16 resultados para horror movies
em CentAUR: Central Archive University of Reading - UK
Resumo:
A tribute to Robin Wood, focusing on his influence on horror criticism, and more specifically, on his appraisal of George A. Romero as ‘a great and audacious filmmaker’ through detailed consideration of his zombie movies. The article considers the key elements of his extraordinary influence on horror criticism, and a detailed examination of the monster which most directly responds to horror’s potential ambivalence: the zombie. In order to consider the ambivalence in the relationship between normality and the monster – that central and most important component of Wood’s horror criticism – created by Romero’s zombies, analysis focuses on the materiality of the films through close attention to the bodies on-screen.
Resumo:
In 1999, Elizabeth Hills pointed up the challenges that physically active women on film still posed, in cultural terms, and in relation to certain branches of feminist theory . Since then, a remarkable number of emphatically active female heroes have appeared on screen, from 'Charlie’s Angels' to 'Resident Evil', 'Aeon Flux', and the 'Matrix' and 'X-Men' trilogies. Nevertheless, in a contemporary Western culture frequently characterised as postfeminist, these seem to be the ‘acceptable face’ – and body – of female empowerment: predominantly white, heterosexual, often scantily clad, with the traditional hero’s toughness and resolve re-imagined in terms of gender-biased notions of decorum: grace and dignity alongside perfect hair and make-up, and a body that does not display unsightly markers of physical exertion. The homogeneity of these representations is worth investigating in relation to critical claims that valorise such air-brushed, high-kicking 'action babes' for their combination of sexiness and strength, and the feminist and postfeminist discourses that are refracted through such readings. Indeed, this arguably ‘safe’ set of depictions, dovetailing so neatly with certain postfeminist notions of ‘having it all’, suppresses particular kinds of spectacles in relation to the active female body: images of physical stress and extension, biological consequences of violence and dangerous motivations are all absent. I argue that the untidy female exertions refused in popular “action babe” representations are now erupting into view in a number of other contemporaneous movies – 'Kill Bill' Vols 1 & 2, 'Monster', and 'Hard Candy' – that mark the return of that which is repressed in the mainstream vision of female power – that is, a more viscerally realistic physicality, rage and aggression. As such, these films engage directly with the issue of how to represent violent female agency. This chapter explores what is at stake at a representational level and in terms of spectatorial processes of identification in the return of this particularly visceral rendering of the female avenger.
Resumo:
Contrary to the dearly held belief by Britons that among the nations of the world, they are the favourites of the Americans, Holliwood movies show that even today, judging by the accents of "baddies", the English incarnate the arch-enemy. French villains come a close second. Britain and France are the reactionary, corrupt "old Europe" from whom the Americans tried to cut away ever since 1775, and it is actually the Central-East European countries who as "new Europe" enjoy greater popularity as bearers of hope.
Resumo:
The aim of Terrorist Transgressions is to analyse the myths inscribed in images of the terrorist and identify how agency is attributed to representation through invocations and inversions of gender stereotypes. In modern discourses on the terrorist the horror experienced in Western societies was the appearance of a new sense of the vulnerability of the body politic, and therefore of the modern self with its direct dependency on security and property. The terrorist has been constructed as the epitome of transgression against economic resources and moral, physical and political boundaries. Although terrorism has been the focus of intense academic activity, cultural representations of the terrorist have received less attention. Yet terrorism is dependent on spectacle and the topic is subject to forceful exposure in popular media. While the terrorist is predominantly aligned with masculinity, women have been active in terrorist organisations since the late 19th century and in suicidal terrorist attacks since the 1980s. Such attacks have confounded constructions of femininity and masculinity, with profound implications for the gendering of violence and horror. The publication arises from an AHRC networking grant, 2011-12, with Birkbeck, and includes collaboration with the army at Sandhurst RMA. The project relates to a wider investigation into feminism, violence and contemporary art.
Resumo:
The narrative of Rosemary’s Baby hinges on a central hesitation between pregnancy induced madness and the existence of Satanism. Accordingly, the monstrous element is embodied in both the real and the supernatural: Rosemary’s husband Guy (John Cassavetes) is responsible for her victimisation through rape in either explanation. However, I will argue that the inherent ambiguity of the plot makes it difficult to place him as such a figure typical to the archetypal horror binaries of normality/monster, human/inhuman. By displacing generic convention the film complicates the issue of monstrosity, whilst simultaneously offering the possibility for the depiction of female experience of marriage to be at the centre of the narrative, for the real to be possibly of more significance than the supernatural. Previous writing has tended to concentrate on Rosemary and her pregnancy, so through detailed consideration of Cassavetes’ performance and its placement in the mise-en-scène this focus on Guy aims to demonstrate that he changes almost as much as Rosemary does. The chapter will focus on the film’s depiction of rape, during Rosemary’s nightmare and after it, in order to demonstrate how the notion of performance reveals Guy’s monstrousness and the difficulties this represents in our engagement with him.
Resumo:
Much is made of the viscerally disturbing qualities embedded in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - human bodies are traumatised, mutilated and distorted – and the way these are matched by close and often intense access to the performers involved. Graphic violence focused on the body specifically indicates the film as a key contemporary horror text. Yet, for all this closeness to the performers, it soon becomes clear in undertaking close-analysis of the film that access to them is equally characterised by extreme distance, both spatially and cognitively. The issue of distance is particularly striking, not least because of its ramifications on engagement, which throws up various aesthetic and methodological questions concerning performers’ expressive authenticity. This article considers the lack of access to performance in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, paying particular attention to how this fits in with contemporaneous presentations of performance more generally, as seen in films such as Junior Bonner (Sam Peckinpah, 1972). As part of this investigation I consider the affect of such a severe disruption to access on engagement with, and discussion of, performance. At the heart of this investigation lie methodological considerations of the place of performance analysis in the post-studio period. How can we perceive anything of a character’s interior life, and therefore engage with performers who we fundamentally lack access to? Does such an apparently significant difference in the way performers and their embodiment is treated mean that they can even be thought of as delivering a performance?
Resumo:
This article explores the roles of monster and victim as experienced through the body, and considers how the relationship between violence and the body affects the presentation of these roles through close analysis of performance in Candyman (Bernard Rose, 1992). I aim to demonstrate that commitment to such a detailed approach, offers a more intricate and rewarding critical interaction, reflecting the complexity of narrative film. Consideration of the particulars of performance is crucial, in its affect on our engagement with the performer and their physical presence. Through this attention I intend to demonstrate how the seemingly fixed role of monster is in fact more fluid than first apparent, that monster and victim can co-exist in the same body. Candyman’s physicality and the way it is presented foregrounds the oscillations between violence and suffering, the relationship between the body and the violence inflicted on and by it, ambiguities which are also found in the heroine’s development, thus enhancing the film’s striking preoccupation with the shifting parallels between monster and victim.
Resumo:
The dance film flourished in the 2000s in the form of the hip-hop teen dance film. Such films as Save the Last Dance (Thomas Carter, 2001), Honey (Billy Woodruff, 2002) and Step Up (Anne Fletcher, 2006) drew on hip-hop’s dominance of the mainstream music industry and combined the teen film’s pre-existing social problem and musical narratives. Yet various tension were created by their interweaving of representations of post-industrial city youth with the utopian sensibilities of the classical Hollywood musical. Their narratives celebrated hip-hop performance, and depicted dance’s ability to bridge cultural boundaries and bring together couples and communities. These films used hip-hop to define space and identity yet often constructed divisions within their soundscapes, limiting hip-hop’s expressive potential. This article explores the cycle’s celebration of, yet struggle with, hip-hop through examining select films’ interactions between soundscape, narrative and form. It will engage with these films’ attempts to marry the representational, narrative and aesthetic meanings of hip-hop culture with the form and ideologies of the musical genre, particularly the tensions and continuities that arise from their engagement with the genre’s utopian qualities identified by Richard Dyer (1985). Yet whilst these films illustrate the tensions and challenges of combining hip-hop culture and the musical genre, they also demonstrate an effective integration of hip-hop soundscape and the dancing body in their depiction of dance, highlighting both form’s aesthetics of layering, rupture and flow (Rose, 1994: 22).