742 resultados para animation, animate, moving image, cinema, film
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:
This article extends the traditions of style-based criticism through an encounter with the insights that can be gained from engaging with filmmakers at work. By bringing into relationship two things normally thought of as separate: production history and disinterested critical analysis, the discussion aims to extend the subjects which criticism can appreciate as well as providing some insights on the creative process. Drawing on close analysis, on observations made during fieldwork and on access to earlier cuts of the film, this article looks at a range of interrelated decision-making anchored by the reading of a particular sequence. The article examines changes the film underwent in the different stages of production, and some of the inventions deployed to ensure key themes and ideas remained in play, as other elements changed. It draws conclusions which reveal perspectives on the filmmaking process, on collaboration, and on the creative response to material realities. The article reveals elements of the complexity of the process of the construction of image and soundtrack, and extends the range of filmmakers’ choices which are part of a critical dialogue. Has a relationship to ‘Sleeping with half open eyes: dreams and realities in The Cry of the Owl’, Movie: A Journal of Film Criticism, 1, (2010) which provides a broader interpretative context for the enquiry.
Resumo:
The authors demonstrate four real-time reactive responses to movement in everyday scenes using an active head/eye platform. They first describe the design and realization of a high-bandwidth four-degree-of-freedom head/eye platform and visual feedback loop for the exploration of motion processing within active vision. The vision system divides processing into two scales and two broad functions. At a coarse, quasi-peripheral scale, detection and segmentation of new motion occurs across the whole image, and at fine scale, tracking of already detected motion takes place within a foveal region. Several simple coarse scale motion sensors which run concurrently at 25 Hz with latencies around 100 ms are detailed. The use of these sensors are discussed to drive the following real-time responses: (1) head/eye saccades to moving regions of interest; (2) a panic response to looming motion; (3) an opto-kinetic response to continuous motion across the image and (4) smooth pursuit of a moving target using motion alone.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
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.
Resumo:
This chapter explores the distinctive qualities of the Matt Smith era Doctor Who, focusing on how dramatic emphases are connected with emphases on visual style, and how this depends on the programme's production methods and technologies. Doctor Who was first made in the 1960s era of live, studio-based, multi-camera television with monochrome pictures. However, as technical innovations like colour filming, stereo sound, CGI and post-production effects technology have been routinely introduced into the programme, and now High Definition (HD) cameras, they have given Doctor Who’s creators new ways of making visually distinctive narratives. Indeed, it has been argued that since the 1980s television drama has become increasingly like cinema in its production methods and aesthetic aims. Viewers’ ability to view the programme on high-specification TV sets, and to record and repeat episodes using digital media, also encourage attention to visual style in television as much as in cinema. The chapter evaluates how these new circumstances affect what Doctor Who has become and engages with arguments that visual style has been allowed to override characterisation and story in the current Doctor Who. The chapter refers to specific episodes, and frames the analysis with reference to earlier years in Doctor Who’s long history. For example, visual spectacle using green-screen and CGI can function as a set-piece (at the opening or ending of an episode) but can also work ‘invisibly’ to render a setting realistically. Shooting on location using HD cameras provides a rich and detailed image texture, but also highlights mistakes and especially problems of lighting. The reduction of Doctor Who’s budget has led to Steven Moffat’s episodes relying less on visual extravagance, connecting back both to Russell T. Davies’s concern to show off the BBC’s investment in the series but also to reference British traditions of gritty and intimate social drama. Pressures to capitalise on Doctor Who as a branded product are the final aspect of the chapter’s analysis, where the role of Moffat as ‘showrunner’ links him to an American (not British) style of television production where the preservation of format and brand values give him unusual power over the look of the series.
Resumo:
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.