Luhrmann's Great Gatsby

A few quick observations about the most recent Gatsby remake. More like leads for further analysis than conclusions of any sort.

First 20mins were somewhat annoying,I thought, as the film starts off on a very clip-like note, and does not really shift pace till more than a quarter hour through.

Will definitely need to rewatch, but can easily say that 70% of any merit in the movie comes from Leo DiCaprio, and another 10% or more from the set and costume designs.

When examining any cultural text, the viewer has to consider two main questions:

• What makes the text possible
• What makes the text necessary

The former refers to the founding narrative - if a true story, then the fact of its having occurred would be what makes the text as representation possible. For example, with no 1972 Munich Olympics terrorist attack, there is no Spielberg's Munich.
The latter refers to the reason or the need behind the text - to continue in the same vein, why did Spielberg "need" to make a film about the Munich attack in 2005? Why is it required, in terms of the societal/symbolic force that necessitates a treatment of the bygone event? And why specifically at that time and place - what current or recent events chime and resonate with the preceding event?

But back to Luhrmann's Gatsby.

The basic idea of the-Poor-killing-the-Poor (mechanic shooting Gatsby to avenge death of his Poor wife) while the rich and morally corrupt are left to indulge in their vices, is an obvious link to post-2008 economic crisis realities. Having said that, I'll definitely need another viewing and some further analysis to understand how, exactly (is Buchanan as a symbol of Old Money an allegory to big business, like the car industry and banks, who got bailed out post-2008 and thereafter were left unreformed? By that same token, who is Gatsby/New Money in the current 2000s settings?)
I also have to wonder who is Luhrmann's Indian-looking Jewish bad guy Wolfshiem? Is that an allusion to Bernie Madoff? Hmm.

Many explicit mentions of Afro-Americans taking on airs, which I assume come from the novel (I'll have to read that then... GASP! No, I've not read it). However, so many images of "uppity" Afro-Americans,and such heavy use of current "black" music in the score - I have to wonder how much of this is Luhrmann, and what he was trying to say by including such content.

Are these references to the 1990s and 2000s, with the factual increase in social mobility of African-Americans, accompanied by the rise of African-American entertainers to the apex of popular culture in the US, conquering a big piece of symbolic capital? Not sure I can fully elaborate quite yet on how Luhrmann links this to the moral decadence of the times, or the consequences of the moral decadence - the financial/economic crisis. Will have to give this more thought.

One interesting motif is the broken pearl necklace.
A clear libidinal signifier (one needs only consider the sexually charged slang meaning of 'pearl necklace'), it is given a dialectical twist by Fitzgerald - in as much as a necklace is not phallic.
Tom Buchanan seals the fate of two of the significant women in his life - by giving them a pearl necklace (very much like a leash around their necks); Daisy has to marry him in exchange for it, and Myrtle gets in trouble with her caveman husband, when he finds the necklace Tom's given her.
Specifically, Daisy's necklace breaks when she refuses to marry into money over true love - only to be meticulously rejoined by her cold and calculating mother. And Myrtle dies as she's hit by Gatsby's car, at the same time breaking the necklace.
Ignoring the burden of more thorough interpretation, at least for the time being, I have to quote another broken pearl necklace that signifies death to the woman who received and wore it - Bruce Wayne/Batman's mother.

Attaching shots from Frank Miller's legendary The Dark Knight Returns, depicting the torn pearl necklace.
The motif appears in Nolan's Batman Begins, and I understand that Batman fanatics have detected a recurrence of the same necklace on Anne Hathaway's/Catwoman's slender swan-like collar too.

James, James Bond

One of the oft overlooked, yet most devious and dangerous arch-villains in the Bond series is the person who casts the role of Bond.

Without doubt, nothing got as close to killing good old Jimmy as did License to Kill. Poor old Jimmy, he was already as good as dead almost... and no cliffhanger, neckbreaking scene was more lethal, more fatal for Bond than that dolt's performance in the two films the producers were dumb enough to make with him.

Seriously, casting Dalton was nothing short of murder in cold blood... and if Pierce Brosnan didn't happen to come to the rescue, they would have sent poor Jimmy back in a box!

Who let him onto the set?!

I mean, I understand they were going through a crisis, right? The Soviet Union was just going to bits, their main storyline became hardly believable... but c'mon! Dalton? Nah, this was no honest "mistake" - this was premeditated murder is what it was.

Schindler's List - competing libidinal economies

In the previous three posts, I tried to demonstrate how Schindler's List is structured around exchange and valuation. That is, by looking at several key scenes, I tried to demonstrate that the film works via a series of A-in-exchange-for-B and A-is-greater-than/lesser-than-B.

Strictly speaking, this valuation/exchange matrix is structural, i.e. it isn't a primary means of purveying content. However, it is not entirely neutral either - by structuring the entire narrative on exchange and valuation, the overall effect of the valuation matrix is to establish the economy as the overarching (and hence wish-fulfilling, anxiety-relieving) aspect of reality - pre-traumatic, traumatic and post-traumatic. The relentless logic of reduction to exchange-value, while it could be read as a subversive potential of the filmic text, rather serves to institute the economy as the unifying element of history, holding together the world before, during and after the Holocaust.

In the coming posts I will analyze a particular segment of the valuation/exchange matrix that is not merely structural, that is in fact more content-charged, so to speak. I mean, I'd now like to turn attention towards an element of the valuation matrix that plays a greater role in signification, perhaps the greatest role. Specifically, I would like to examine the tripartite (masked as a mere dual) juxtaposition of diverse libidinal economies.

WTF?!

Exactly. So unlike the discussion of the valuation matrix, where I basically cut several cross-sections along the entire film, I would like to arrange the analysis of the libidinal economies model in a different way - starting from the core, and gradually working my way farther from the center, so as to prevent the claims I'm about to make from seeming too far-fetched. In order to do that, we'll start with what I condiser to be most obivious, and slowly work towards more daring interpretations and claims.

THE core of the film in this sense is the wedding/cellar/female-singer scene. It is precisely this scene that unfolds for the viewer three competing models of libidinal outlet - Schindler's, Goeth's, and in between, the Jewish third way. By use of cross-cutting, Spielberg shows the viewer a clandestine Jewish wedding that takes place in one of the women's barracks in Plasow; a female singer performing in Goeth's villa in front of Schindler and a crowd of SS-men; and Goeth talking to and then physically abusing Helen in his cellar.

First it should be noted that we are still very firmly on valuation-matrix ground - Spielberg collates three models of libidinal economy, nicely placed one next to the other. This juxtaposition necessarily evokes in the viewer a tendency to measure these models one against the other, to establish an order of value and worth; in this case, maybe not so much in the sense of worth-more/worth-less, but more along the lines of perverse (Goeth's sadistic relation with/towards Helen), hedonistic/promiscuous/commercial (Schindler) and normative/morally superior (the Jewish wedding).

This is truly the core of the competing libidinal economies axis, as it lays bare the tripartite character of the comparison. Elsewhere in the film, the role of the Jews is masked or sidelined, as the libidinal economies compete along the lines of the more dominant Schindler vs. Goeth dichotomy (mentioned in the previous posts), thereby bracketing the role of the Jews in the libidinal economy competition. It is therefore important to bear this in mind - as I later return to the role of the Jews in the signification structure of the film, we would do well to remember that they are in fact a crucial element in the libidinal competition, measured as they are against two gentile models of libidinal outlet.

If we look at this scene from a female point of view, Spielberg basically prescribes here three possibilities, three female alternatives:

1) The woman can either suffer male violence (the female Subject as a 'being-in-passion' - passion in the sense of suffering the action of another, in this case a male Subject... in other words, rather as a female object, not so much as a Subject, of male brutality).

2) The woman can become the Object of the male gaze - specifically, as a commodified, stylized item that a male Subject (or audience) can enjoy.

3) Or, finally, the woman can submit to matrimonial protection.

Indeed, seen from the perspective that Spielberg offers here, it appears that the female Jewish newly-wed is the better off of all three females.

However, what is precisely the position of the female Jewess within the framework of marriage?

On the surface of things, Spielberg constructs an extremely egalitarian, almost ultrafeminist setting. Instead of a male rabbi, a woman is the one who recites the blessings and presides over the wedding. In fact, the groom is the only male inside the barrack - in stark contrast with the Schindler-singer scene, where the singer on the stage is the only female person in the hall. Furthermore, the visual subjectivity of the wedding scene contrasts with the male scopophile aspect of both the Schindler-singer and the Goeth-Helen scene: whereas Helen and the singer are both examples of passive objects to one-sided, hierarchical male 'gazes' (where it is quite clear that only the male has the power to enjoy looking at the female, and not vice versa; where the viewer sees the scene exclusively via male eyes), the wedding scene comprises of a multilatteral view - the newly-weds are surrounded by the female crowd from all sides, and the viewer "sees" the scene from multiple, gender-unspecified points of view.

However, as in several other moments in the film, the audio gives away the key to a full understanding of the visual representation.

There are at least 7 blessings (actually more like 9 or 10) that must be recited during a Jewish wedding, and the filmmaker chose to represent the following single blessing in this scene:

Baruch ata Adonai Elohaynu melech ha’olam asher kidshanu bemitzvotav, vetzivanu

al ha’araiyot, ve-asayr lanu et ha’arusot ve-hitir lanu et hanisu’ot lanu

al yidei chuppah ve-kiddushin. Baruch ata Adonai, mekadaysh amo Yisrael al

yeday chuppah ve-kiddushin..

I include two alternative English translations below (one is from Halakha.com the other one I found somewhere on the net, can't remember where):

Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has sanctified us by his commandments and has commanded us concerning the forbidden relations and has forbidden unto us the betrothed and has allowed unto us the wedded through [the marriage] canopy and sanctification.

Praised are you Adonai, Ruler of the universe, who has made us holy through Your commandments and has commanded us concerning sexual propriety, forbidding to us (women) who are merely betrothed, but permitting to us (women) who are married to us through chuppah and kiddushin. Blessed are You, Adonai, who makes your people Israel holy through chuppah and kiddushin.

First of all, anyone who still had doubts whether this scene (and the film in general) is about libido and how it should be handled, surely cannot contest that via the very text of the blessing, even the manifest content of this scene (although most viewers, who do not understand Hebrew, are unaware of it) relates directly to prescriptions and proscriptions of who is and isn't a legitimate object of male libido.

Second, contrary to the seemingly feminist setting (again, exclusively female company other than the groom, a woman presiding over the ritual in lieu of a rabbi), the text of the text of the blessing places us firmly on male exclusivist, patriarchal (not matrimonial) grounds.

If the "Jewish way" proposed by the filmmakers is the legalistic circumscription of libido within clear boundaries ("you can have your way with these, but hands off these-a-ones"), then the Schindler, i.e. Christian/Catholic way, is represented in the on-stage singer scene.

I've already pointed out the male-gaze and commodification aspects of the scene, but it is worthwhile noting in passing that it's symbolism does suggest or reinforce a reading that sees it as specifically Christian. Again, the audio comes to our aid - with the singer's song, Julian Tuwim's (the Jewish Tuwim) poem Milosc ci wszystko wybaczy:

Miłość ci wszystko wybaczy

smutek zamieni ci w śmiech

miłość tak pięknie tłumaczy

zdradę i kłamstwo

i grzech....

And so we have here they very well known iconography which contrasts the legalistic, proscriptive Jewish god, with Christ, the god of Love - that proffers forgiveness and comfort, that redeems betrayal, lies and sin (just quoting the song... google-translate it if you think I'm bluffing).

But that is by far not all there is to the Schindler/Christian way.

One can better realize what is at stake by examining Schindler in contrast with Goeth. And indeed it is this libidinal duo that frames the entire film - with the Jews sandwiched in between, thereby feminized through the framing constituted by two males.

Goeth is driven to violence by his inability to kiss Helen, by an inability to break the taboo, transgression against the National-Socialist proscription.

On the other hand, Schindler kisses every and any woman - as is demonstrated by the scene that follows immediately on the wedding/singer/cellar scene:

Schindler heeds only the voice of the Big Other - he enjoys all and any women; the super-ego's prohibitions, which torment Goeth, are completely foreign to him, as is the Symbolic proscription embodied in the so-called Mosaic Law.

As a matter of fact, Schindler will not even stop at the racial boundary, as he proceeds to kiss the Jewess factory worker, to the dismay and discomfiture of everybody around him.

Goeth in particular, cranes his neck to get a better view, as if he was asking himself: "That Schindler... how does he do it?" - for Schindler has no qualms to go ahead and do in public, that which Goeth could not do in the "comfort" and secrecy of his own cellar.

Enough for now, as this post is becoming too long, again.

I'll pick up here again next time, to examine more closely a few examples of the dual contrast and opposition between Schindler and Goeth's libidinal economies - and also say a few words about the cellar scene with Goeth and Helen.

Juno, what-do-YOU-know

Been a while... again...

Although I have yet another Schindler's List post frying on the pan, I thought of posting some quick observations about Jason Reitman's 2007 Juno.

As I was recently re-watching this cute film (bit-by-bit on my Sony Elm while riding the metro to/from work... if you'll pardon the shameless product-placement for a bit of atmospheric set up), it occured to me I should try a new method of blogging - BlitzBlog.

That is, rather than thinking things through ad nausea and taking ages before I post anything, I should rather sit down for 30mins (I am timing this with a stopwatch) and put some words down into html. All of my previous long-winded posts have gained nothing in coherence thanks to my taking longer to think em and write em, so if incoherence is the ultimate and inevitable outcome anyway, I might as well opt for speedy incoherence - this way I'm at least coming to terms with the ideas and putting some thoughts down on paper (I do in fact write drafts on actual paper... another technique to prevent me from senselessly surfing shite for hours before/instead of writing my blog).

So first thing's first - Juno as wish-fulfillment:

1. Juno is wish-fulfillment in that we wish all teenage mothers were this eloquent and articulate.

2. Juno is wish-fulfillment in that we start believing that we are/could be as beautiful and cool as everything we see on the screen (and hear on the excellent soundtrack).

You could say that this is the most fundamental wish-fulfillment of all films and visual images. I.e. in line with Laura Mulvey's mirror-stage thesis in her founding article "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema", we gain pleasure through looking at the screen, in the same manner that the infant gains pleasure from seeing its own reflection - which necessarily appears to the infant to be more physically coordinated and less anxietized than its own self.

I am tempted to say that the specific pleasure we obtain from watching "films like Juno" - by which I mean highly stylized and aestheticized films, with overwhelmingly "pretty" images and sound, very much like Sofia Coppola's Marie Antionette (or Virgin Suicides and even the more mainstream Lost in Translation), or Jim Jarmusch's Broken Flowers - goes beyond the general pleasure of watching.

If watching anything gives us pleasure, then what is the specific pleasure we gain from watching beautiful images? Does it not go beyond the mirror-stage? Don't we trespass into the realm of wish-fulfillment here, by wanting to believe that what we see on screen is our reflection, although we know it isn't?

We are in fact in a mirror - that is, opposite - position to that of the the infant's. Unlike the infant, who believes that the reflection is somebody else, we know that the images on screen are somebody else, and yet we would like to believe that they are somehow our own reflection.

Wrap this thought up - yes, it's time to reread Mulvey, that's one thing.

Another thing is, that all these "pretty" images should also be interpreted as regression/representation (thoughts and affects translated into visual images), and they also show us how displacement works in film - the more vivid, "pretty" and worked out the image, the less significance does it carry, the more it tries to distract us from registering the return of the repressed: it gets in our way of noticing the filmic placeholder of the symptom.

Oh yeah, and as far as "pretty" images are concerned, Juno is a perfect example of how language in film (the spoken word in the script) could work as an obfuscating beautiful image. Cos Juno is naught if it isn't late-modern Shakespearian, with all its indie/alternative/goth 'swear to blog' and other cute expressions.

3. Juno is wish-fulfillment in that we would like to hope that the supply and demand of all unplanned pregnancies would always match as perfectly as in this film.

* * *

But I sense that all of the above is still very much on the surface of things... I need to dig deeper. Got to get some acheronta movebo going on here...

In the interest of digging deeper, there are two further moments in the film that I think merit more thought and analysis.

The first is the chief crisis in the film, which surprisingly enough is not Juno's pregnancy, but rather Mark's and Vanessa's impending breakup. To be more exact, the crisis is triggered by Mark telling Juno that he's planning to leave Vanessa (while Mark and Juno slow-dance to a song Mark recalls from his prom... and then Mark spills the beans, mere inches away from potentially heavy petting with the precocious, gravid teen surrogate mother of his child...)

What precisely is at stake here? Why is the otherwise resilient and elevated Juno so devestated by the prospect of the soon-to-be-adoptive couple's breakup?

Just a hunch - Juno's fear of the breakup could consist of her wanting to ensure that the child will not have to face the other's desire as the cause of its being.

HUH?!

OK, so if Mark and Vanessa stay together and adopt the child, then it would live in a believable illusion that it is the product of a necessary and ineluctable relationship, one that leaves no room for desire per se (the parents must be together, they wanted a child and got it, with little or no choice involved).

If the child were ever to find out that it was adopted, then that still would leave very little room for choice - the parents wanted a child and got it.

Mark and Vanessa's breakup necessarily belies the illusion of no-choice/desire-free conception.

The fear of shattering this illusion is a typical obsessive (i.e. predominantly male) anxiety. Which leads me to the question I raise at the end of this post.

I suspect that the trauma or potential trauma behind this aspect of the narrative has something to do with the dissevered parental and/or partner roles of all the protagonists in the film. In other words, disciphering the story behind Juno's strong reaction to the breakup requires a closer examination of how Jason Reitman and Cody Diabolo consistently subvert all hope for any of the protagonists to attain a harmonious family-role position.

What am I talking about again?

It seems as though the filmmaker(s) place a glass prism spank in the middle of the partner/parent/child equation, refracting all the protagonists' beams beyond any hope of a straight path.

A few examples to make this point clearer:

Bleeker - unsuspecting and unintentional biological father of the child, won't/can't be its father socially (will not even see it), at the end of the film a reconciled partner of Juno's

Mac MacGuff - Juno's father (though somewhat MIA father, as he fail to protect her from becoming a highschool mom), not the child's father

Mark - would-be adoptive father of the child, can't be a biological father of it or any other child, eventually chickens out of the adoption/his relationship with Vanessa/his little flirt with Juno

Leah - not a mother to any child, fixated on an impossible semi-imaginary relationship with a teacher

Bren - not Juno's mother, not the child's mother (and what's the thing with wanting to have a dog but not being able to due to Juno's allergy...?)

Vanessa - cannot be a biological mother, does eventually become the child's adoptive mother

You could say that this cast of all-but-ideal roles was the result of the filmmakers attempt to write history into the narrative, bringing a taste of our late-modern times, with its diverse family-formation patterns onto the set.

However, I sense that there's more to this than meets the eye.

Why nobody in the film is able to occupy a straightforward partner/parent relationship is one of the core questions critical viewers should confront.

And me thinks that this ties into yet another important question - what is the the true gender of the main protagonist? Is Juno really a female?