Reliable entertainment: Spanish consumers' preferences regarding a film's country of origin

This article contributes to the study of cinema audiences in Europe by analyzing the actual behavior of Spanish moviegoers and their level of satisfaction. We modeled moviegoers’ choice of film by country of origin (U.S.A., Spain, and other countries) according to a set of determinants: (1) consumers’ interpretation of several sources of information, (2) motivations and (3) choice rules. We found three clear consumer stereotypes related to each type of film: (1) U.S.A. films were preferred by almost everyone (especially families and younger audiences); (2) Spanish films had audiences composed of middle-age and middle-class moviegoers; and (3) European productions were preferred by a social or intellectual elite. U.S.A. films dominate the Spanish market for the reason that they provide most of what moviegoers prefer, namely, familiar, reliable entertainment in Spanish; three characteristics that are not satisfied by Spanish and European films. Additionally, we discuss the implications for the European cultural policy

Spectacle and value in classical Hollywood cinema

This is a primarily meta-critical essay and is in direct dialogue with the argument presented in my essay on Gone with the Wind (published in 'Screen'). Here, however, the emphasis is much more on the challenge my definition of spectacle represents for important traditions of film analysis, particularly ‘mise-en-scène criticism’. I argue for the possibility of spectacle to form part of the ‘organic’ whole of a film’s texture and form, while noting the challenge the concept represents (by dint of certain ideological associations and its taint of commercialism) with ‘organicist’ traditions of interpretative film analysis.

Return of the 'Angry Woman': authenticating female physical action in contemporary cinema

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.

Digital imaging in popular cinema

This book investigates the challenges that the presence of digital imaging within the cinematic frame can pose for the task of interpretation. Applying close textual analysis to a series of case studies, the book demystifies the relationship of digital imaging to processes of watching and reading films, and develops a methodology for approaching the digital in popular cinema. In doing so, the study places contemporary digital imaging practice in relation to historical traditions of filmmaking and special effects practice, and proposes a fresh, flexible approach the the close reading of film that can take appropriate account of the presence of the digital.

A utopia no Cinema Brasileiro: matrizes, nostalgia, distopias

This book studies the ressurgence of the utopian gesture in Brazilian Cinema from the mid-1990s onwards, as well as its variations and negations. The analysis identifies trajectories of rise and fall, which reflect oscillations in the political scenario, and includes a retrospective look at utopian traditions of the Brazilian cinematic past, in turn derived from the nation's foundational myths. At the same time, it considers the ways in which recent Brazilian film production transcends Cinema Novo's national project to interacts with modern, postmodern and commercial cinemas of the world, thus benefiting from and contributing to a new transnational cinematic aesthetics.

Film as literature, or the Truffaldian Malaise

This chapter looks at L’Homme qui aimait les femmes (1977) as a privileged instance of the self-effacing, obliquely disruptive, reflexive aesthetics that characterizes Truffaut’s cinema, by means of an intermedial approach. Although an original story, written by Truffaut in collaboration with Suzanne Schiffman and Michel Fermaud, the film’s subject is the writing of a book containing the protagonist’s story. More importantly, its mode of address presents this story as literature, through a complex network of flashbacks and voiceover narrations that comment on and make sense of the fragmentary present-tense action scenes. As well as a film, this method resulted in an actual novel, or cinéroman, this time authored exclusively by the director under the same title of L’Homme qui aimait les femmes, thus giving material form to the literary aim of the cinematic enterprise: a book.

Rumo a uma definição positiva de world cinema

However common it has become, the term World Cinema still lacks a proper, positive definition. Despite its all-encompassing, democratic vocation, it is not usually employed to mean cinema worldwide. On the contrary, the usual way of defining it is restrictive and negative, as ‘the non-Hollywood cinema’. Needless to say, negation here translates a positive intention to turn difference from the dominant model into a virtue to be rescued from an unequal competition. However, it unwittingly sanctions the American way of looking at the world, according to which Hollywood is the centre and all other cinemas are the periphery. As an alternative to this model, this chapter proposes: • World Cinema is simply the cinema of the world. It has no centre. It is not the other, but it is us. It has no beginning and no end, but is a global process. World Cinema, as the world itself, is circulation. • World Cinema is not a discipline, but a method, a way of cutting across film history according to waves of relevant films and movements, thus creating flexible geographies. • As a positive, inclusive, democratic concept, World Cinema allows all sorts of theoretical approaches, provided they are not based on the binary perspective.

Going global: the Brazilian scripted film

This article departs from the assumption that a certain section of world cinema, usually defined as ‘independent’, has been evolving on the basis of good scripts. Between the late 1980s and early 90s, there has been a boom of new cinemas in the world, such as the new Iranian, Taiwanese, Japanese, Mexican, Argentine and Brazilian cinemas. A significant part of this production shows a renewed interest in local and national peculiarities of their respective countries, going against the grain of globalisation and its typical cultural dilution. Most of these films are also engaged in reassessing narrative cinema, as a kind of reaction against the deconstructive work carried out by postmodern cinema of the 1980s.Recent new cinemas are supported by a combination of local and international resources, derived from public and private sponsors at home, and funding agencies, festivals and TV channels abroad. In most cases funds are granted after the film script has been analysed and approved by commissions of experts. The New Brazilian Cinema, or cinema da retomada as it is locally called, has been enormously affected by this scheme, which has even caused a ‘script boom’ in Brazil in the past decade. The chapter examins the results of this process.

Além da diferença: a mulher no Cinema da Retomada

This paper analyses the female participation in the Brazilian Film Revival of the 1990s beyond differences of sex, race, class, age and ethnicity. Its main contention is that the most decisive contribution brought about by the rise of women in recent Brazilian cinema has been the spread of team work and shared authorship, as opposed to a mere aspiration to the auteur pantheon, as determined by a notoriously male-oriented tradition.

'Eden Cinema' by Marguerite Duras

Duras’s theatre work has been profoundly neglected by UK theatre academics and practitioners, and Eden Cinema has almost no performance history in Britain. My project asked three interconnected research questions: how developing the performance contributes to understanding Duras’s theatre and specifically Eden Cinema’s problems of performability; how multimedia performance emphasising mediated sound and the live body reconfigures memory, autobiography, storytelling, gender and racial identity; how to locate a performance style appropriate for Durasian narratives of displacement and death which reflect the discontinuous and mutable form of Duras’s ‘texte/film/théâtre’. Drawing on my research interests in gender, post-colonial hybridity and performed deconstruction, I focused my staging decisions on the discontinuities and ambivalences of the text. I addressed performability by avoiding the temptation to resolve the strange ellipses in the text and instead evoked the text’s imperfect and fragmented memories, and its uncertain spatial and temporal locations, by means of a fluid theatrical form. The mise-en-scène represented imagined and remembered spaces simultaneously, and co-existing historical moments. The performance style counterpointed live and mediated action and audio-visual forms. A complex through-composed soundscape, comprising voice-over, sound and music, became a key means for evoking overlapping temporalities, interconnected narratives and fragmented memories that were dispersed across the performance. The disempowerment of the mother figure and the silent indigenous servant in the text was demonstrated through their spatial centrality but physical stillness. The servant’s colonial subaltern identity was paralleled and linked with the mother’s disenfranchisement through their proxemic relationships. I elicited a performance style which evoked ‘characters’, whose being was deferred across different regimes of reality and who ‘haunted’ the stage rather than inhabited it. I developed the project further in the additional written outcomes and presentations, and the subsequent performance of Savannah Bay where problems of performability intensify until embodiment is almost erased except via voice.

Reflexive stasis, scale reversal and the myth of modern cinema

This chapter looks at three films whose Portuguese urban settings offer a privileged ground for the re-evaluation of the classical-modern-postmodern categorisation with regard to cinema. They are The State of Things (Wim Wenders, 1982), Foreign Land (Walter Salles and Daniela Thomas, 1995) and Mysteries of Lisbon (Raúl Ruiz, 2010). In them, the city is the place where characters lose their bearings, names, identities, and where vicious circles, mirrors, replicas and mise-en-abyme bring the vertiginous movement that had characterised the modernist city of 1920s cinema to a halt. Curiously, too, it is the place where so-called postmodern aesthetics finally finds an ideal home in self-ironical tales that expose the film medium’s narrative shortcomings. Intermedial devices, whether Polaroid stills or a cardboard cut-out theatre, are then resorted to in order to turn a larger-than-life reality into framed, manageable narrative miniatures. The scaled-down real, however, turns out to be a disappointing simulacrum, a memory ersatz that unveils the illusory character of cosmopolitan teleology. In my approach, I start by examining the intertwined and transnational genesis of these films that resulted in three correlated visions of the end of history and of storytelling, typical of postmodern aesthetics. I move on to consider intermedia miniaturism as an attempt to stop time within movement, an equation that inevitably brings to mind the Deleuzian movement-time binary, which I revisit in an attempt to disentangle it from the classical-modern opposition. I conclude by proposing reflexive stasis and scale reversal as the common denominator across all modern projects, hence, perhaps, a more advantageous model than modernity to signify artistic and political values.