807 resultados para Militant cinema
Resumo:
This chapter discusses the various ways in which we can understand 'Australian film'. It is the introductory chapter to the Australian section of the second edition of the Directory of World Cinema: Australia and New Zealand.
Resumo:
This chapter discusses the history of action and adventure films in Australian cinema. It focuses on those films starring Australian actors who have gained international fame, and on those films featuring a female protagonist.
Resumo:
This paper examines art and artefact in the representation and recollection of deeply personal WWII women’s experiences as POW’s under the Japanese. This kind of treatment of internees in the Tjideng Women and Children’s internment camp (and others) in Batavia under the Japanese in WWII, stands in stark and brutal contrast to the idyllic life lived by many families up to that time in what was then known as the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). The deprivation and brutality of the Japanese incarceration of these women and children evoked responses - not military, but certainly militant, if muted. Representations of those responses – as both art and artefact - may be found in the most unlikely places and unexpected forms - and are still being unearthed to this day. However close we might personally be to these artists and artisans, can we, as observers from a distance, ever truly comprehend through spoken or written words alone, the day-today realities of those extraordinary times?
Resumo:
The representation of vampires in horror movies and television programmes has changed considerably over the last two decades. No longer is the vampire portrayed simply as a monster or representation of death. Now, the vampire on our screen such as True Blood’s Bill Compton, or Twilight’s Edward Cullen, passes as human, chooses to make morally sound decisions, becomes an upstanding assimilated citizen, works in the community, and aspires to be a husband to mortal women. The success of recent series such as The Twilight Saga (2009, 2010, 2011, 2012), The Vampire Diaries (2009 - ) and True Blood (2008 - ) has popularised the idea of vampires who cling to remnants of their humanity (or memories of what it means to be human) and attempt to live as human, which builds upon similar – albeit embryonic – themes which emerged from the vampire sub-genre in the 1990s. Within these narratives, representations of the other have shifted from the traditional idea of the monster, to alternative and surprising loci. As this chapter argues, humans themselves, and the concept of the human body, now represent, in many instances, both abject and other. The chapter begins by considering the nature of the abject and otherness in relation to representations of classical vampires and how they have traditionally embodied the other. This provides a backdrop against which to examine the characteristics of the contemporary mainstreaming vampire ‘monster’. An examination of the broad thematic and representational shifts from other to mainstream vampire demonstrates how mainstream monsters are increasingly assimilating into mortal lifestyles with trappings that many viewers may find appealing. The same shifts in theme and representation also reveal that humans are frequently cast as mundane and unappealing in contemporary vampire narratives.
Resumo:
The monstrous landscape and the revenge of nature are recurring motifs in Australian cinema. In the horror genre, the idea of the monstrous landscape emerges from, and builds upon, an established tradition in Australian cinema in which landscape functions not just as a setting for action, but also as a character in its own right. Rather than a picturesque wilderness or countryside, or a serene natural world untainted by civilisation – representations common in landscape cinema celebrating positive aspects of the Australian ‘outback’ – the monstrous landscape is a dangerous, malevolent and threatening force. Drawing upon themes also common in Australian Gothic narratives such as entrapment in a hostile environment, isolation and fear of the unknown (Turcotte, 1988, see also Jonathan Rayner’s essay in this volume), the monstrous landscape acts according to its own logic indecipherable to non-Indigenous Australians and is represented in terms of its alien-ness and inhuman horror.
Resumo:
Auto/biographical documentaries ask audiences to take a ‘leap of faith’, not being able to offer any real ‘proof’ of the people and events they claim to document, other than that of the film-maker’s saying this is what happened. With only memory and history seen through the distorting lens of time, ‘the authenticity of experience functions as a receding horizon of truth in which memory and testimony are articulated as modes of salvage’. Orchids: My Intersex Adventure follows a salvaging of the film-maker’s life events and experiences, being born with an intersex condition, and, via the filming and editing process, revolving around the core question: who am I? From this transformative creative documentary practice evolves a new way of embodying experience and ‘seeing’, playfully dubbed here as the ‘intersex gaze’.
Resumo:
Research Statement: In this research project film groups of 4-5 students under my direction produced a 3-5 minute urban film that explored the Brisbane Northbank, and which would become the basis for an urban proposal and design of a small film studio for independent filmmakers in the site. The theoretical premise was that a film studio does not simply produce movies, it creates urban effects all around it and acts as a vortex of cultural activity and social life. For this modest facility where the cinema goes out into the street, the city itself becomes the studio. Students were called to observe the historical problematics of technique, image and effect that arise in the cinema, and to apply these to their own urban-film practice. A panel of judges working in film and architecture shortlisted the 12 best films in 2010 and a major public film screening event took place at the Tribal Cinema. The Shortlisted films today form a permanent "exhibit" in YouTube. The research project was funded by the Queensland University of Technology, School of Design and received accolades from film faculty in the Creative Industries Faculty. The diverse body of work that emanated from the screening contributed a unique analysis of the Northbank to Brisbane.
Resumo:
Building on and bringing up to date the material presented in the first installment of Directory of World Cinema : Australia and New Zealand, this volume continues the exploration of the cinema produced in Australia and New Zealand since the beginning of the twentieth century. Among the additions to this volume are in-depth treatments of the locations that feature prominently in the countries' cinema. Essays by leading critics and film scholars consider the significance in films of the outback and the beach, which is evoked as a liminal space in Long Weekend and a symbol of death in Heaven's Burning, among other films. Other contributions turn the spotlight on previously unexplored genres and key filmmakers, including Jane Campion, Rolf de Heer, Charles Chauvel, and Gillian Armstrong.
Resumo:
Deleuze (1990) states in Negotiations that signs are realized in ideas. Although Deleuze referred to cinema, his thinking about signs and ideas can apply to drawings. Cinema is moving imagery and drawing is static, however both are informed and constructed from realized ideas that continue to shift beyond the artifact. Theories about children’s drawings have historically pertained to establishing schematic universalities rather than acknowledging the agglomerative connections they make to the multiple things occurring around a drawing as it is created. Universal schemas however persist within early childhood art discourses despite the growth of critical theory research into other aspects of childhood. Deleuze’s assertions about the signs and classifications of cinema help to contest notions of schematic development, i.e. children should progress through particular iconic drawing stages at particular ages. Deleuze’s quotes and thoughts on the imaginary and imagination are referenced to interrogate ‘scientific’ knowledges and the gathering of evidential truths about children’s intellectual growth and development. Four examples from a dataset of drawings from a pilot study, undertaken by the author that tested the methodological potential of intergenerational collaborative drawing in early childhood settings, facilitate focused discussion on the above contestations.
Resumo:
In this chapter we seek to interrogate the methods and assumptions underpinning geocriticism by engaging with and reframing dominant ways of analysing mediated representations of Australian space in cultural narratives, specifically film, literature, and theatre. What, we ask, might geocriticism contribute to the analysis of Australian texts in which location figures prominently? We argue a geocritical approach may provide an interdisciplinary framework that offers a way of identifying tropes across geographic regions and across media representations. Drawing on scholarship spanning Australian cinematic, literary and theatrical narratives, this chapter surveys published work in the field and posits that a refined geocritical mapping and analysis of the cultural terrain foregrounds the significance of geography to culture and draws different traditions of spatial enquiry into dialogue without privileging any particular textual form. We conclude by scoping possibilities for future research emerging from recent technological developments in interactive online cartography.
Resumo:
This article explores how the imaginative use of the landscape in Baz Luhrmann’s Australia (2008) intersects with the fantasy of Australianness that the film constructs. We argue the fictional Never-Never Land through which the film’s characters travel is an, albeit problematic, ‘indigenizing’ space that can be entered imaginatively through cultural texts including poetry, literature and film, or through cultural practices including touristic pilgrimages to landmarks such as Uluru and Kakadu National Park. These actual and virtual journeys to the Never-Never have broader implications in terms of fostering a sense of belonging and legitimating white presence in the land through affect, nostalgia and the invocation of an imagined sense of solidarity and community. The heterotopic concept of the Never-Never functions to create an ahistorical, inclusive space that grounds diverse conceptions of Australianness in a shared sense of belonging and home that is as mythical, contradictory and wondrous as the idea of the Never-Never itself. The representations of this landscape and the story of the characters that traverse it self-consciously construct a relationship to past events and to film history, as well as constructing a comfortable subject position for contemporary Australians to occupy in relation to the land, the colonial past, and the present.
Resumo:
Cinema is central to the mediation of history and the construction of imaginative geographies that offer a politicized view of the land and its people. This article investigates cinematic representations of landscape and analyses the ways in which maps and journeys in Charles Chauvel’s film Jedda (1955) and Baz Luhrmann’s Australia (2008)—both set in the far North of Australia—articulate conceptions of “Australianness” in relationship to Indigeneity and the land. We argue the exotic tropics and arid outback regions of northern Australia function metonymically as representative of the nation in these films, working to naturalize ideological values and affirm dominant narratives of history, identity, and entitlement.
Resumo:
An online interactive map and associated database including textual extracts and audiovisual material of film/novel/play locations in Australia.
Resumo:
The work of Gilles Deleuze has influenced an increasing number of music scholars and practicing musicians, particularly those interested in experimental, electronic and popular music. This is despite the notoriously complex nature of his writings, and the specialised theoretical vocabulary that he employs. This thesis both demystifies some of the key terms and concepts of this vocabulary, before demonstrating how Deleuze’s ideas may be put to work in new and fruitful ways; this is achieved with specific reference to the relationships that music has with thought, time and machines. In Chapter 1, Deleuze’s understanding of the power of thought is examined, in particular his approach to communication, transcendence and immanence, and the “powers of thought.” Each of these concepts helps us to understand Deleuze’s work within broad problem of how to think about music immanently: that is, how to maintain that thought and music are both immanent aspects of life and experience. Chapter 2 examines time within a Deleuzian framework, linking his work on cinema with the concept of the “refrain”; both of these areas prove crucial to his understanding of music, as seen in Deleuze’s approach to the work of Varese, Messiaen, and Boulez. In addition, Deleuze’s understanding of time proves fruitful in examining various aspects of music production, as seen in contemporary electronic dance music. Finally, Chapter 3 looks at the concept of the machine, as developed by Deleuze and Guattari, with reference to the sorts of “machinic” connections that a Deleuzian approach encourages us to seek out in music. Once again, examples from contemporary electronic music are presented, in relation to the notions of becoming and subjectivity. Throughout these chapters, Deleuze’s broad understanding of philosophy as the “creation of concepts” is deployed. This means introducing new ideas and specific types of music that encourage creative and novel engagements with the study of music.
Resumo:
Watching David Williamson’s The Club (Bruce Beresford, 1980) now, as a scandal over performance‐enhancing drugs threatens to destroy at least one AFL club and permanently taint the League’s credibility, while in another form of football a player is bought and sold for a world record fee of almost $150 million, the indignant outrage of the film’s coach and players over the $120,000 fee paid for a pot‐smoking raw recruit appears quaint and comic in unintended ways. Were it ever true, it seems harder than ever now to agree with Nick Parson’s assertion that ‘in Australia the only sphere of endeavour that is considered morally pure is sport.