Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Nobody's Business: Revealing the Filmmaker through Domestic Ethnography

Alan Berliner’s film, Nobody’s Business, may have been my favourite film from this class to date. I’m very interested in the psychological influences and conclusions of a film and so I was compelled by the autobiographical practice used in this film.
Michael Renov explains the concept of domestic ethnography and its use as “a vehicle of self-examination, a means through which to construct self-knowledge through recourse to the familial other” (218) within his article “Domestic Ethnography and the Construction of the ‘Other’ Self”. This reading outlines the purpose of Berliner’s film very well, through the use of other documentary examples.
In general, the viewer may witness the autobiographical practice that results from Alan’s interview of his father, Oscar. The definition of Alan’s self is created through his opposition and similarities to his father. The greatest opposition was Oscar’s obstinate disinterest in his family’s history and Alan’s obvious fascination with this history. Nobody’s Business was preceded by Alan’s portrait of his grandfather in the film Intimate Stranger. His grandfather is focused on within this film as well; however Oscar shows no concern with the memory of his parents to the point that he didn’t even know their birthdays or wedding anniversary. Alan, on the other hand, is so greatly interested in his family history that he even travels to Poland to visit their places of birth and death. When he is unable to find any definite gravesite, he chooses to associate a specific grave stone with his grandparents as a symbol for his own comfort, a concept that his father laughs at and dismisses as ridiculous. The opposition peaks at the end of the film, with the credits rolling and the sound of dialogue. Oscar is telling Alan that he thinks he’s taken the wrong life path, that he’s wasting his time making films, and, basically, that his work and his life practice are useless because he essentially begs for money. This opposition and harsh disapproval creates obvious “boundaries between self and other” (217) and therefore creates an interesting perception of Alan’s self to the viewer.
The documented history provides a solid base for the documentary and helps to explain the context of the relationship. The interviews that Alan conducts with his sister and his mother further develop the familial dynamics and help to define Alan and his father. The “level of casual intimacy” (218) that Renov describes works to create Alan’s self-portrait. I think the strongest, and most dynamic, element of the film were the one-on-one interviews where Alan was able to break down Oscar’s barriers, if only for a minute. Especially in contrast to their opposing views on the film, their loving relationship is really strengthened by these interviews and the understanding of this relationship helps the viewer to understand the true persons involved. This idea is strengthened even more when Alan’s cousin comments on how the documentary process has been beneficial to Oscar because it keeps him going in a way. I think this is the point in the film where Oscar’s walls are really broken down and the viewer can see his full view.
The one-on-one interview segments also reveal that “blood ties effect linkages of shared memory, physical resemblance, temperament, and … family-forged behavioural or attitudinal dysfunction” (219). The portion of the interview when Alan and Oscar discuss their similarities, in terms of inheritance, helped to create an unarguable bond between the two men. In contrast, the blood linkages between Alan and his mother seemed to force a gap between the mother and son because their bond had not been strengthened throughout the rest of the film. This maternal gap or void also helps to build the image of Alan for the viewer.
Lastly, I think the actual interview and documentary process, Alan’s opportunity to finally sit down and have a heart-to-heart with his father is another dimension of the film that defines Alan. The actual interaction that the viewer is able to witness is a huge development in both of the men’s lives, as it is a point of growth between them and as individuals. The struggle between the two (represented by the boxing matches) work together with the quieter, agreeable moments to build a new connection between father and son.
Renov summarizes the concept of this type of film well and so I would just like to restate that:
“Afforded a depth of access to its subjects, domestic ethnography discloses secrets, performs masquerades of identity, and, temporarily at least, rearranges familial hierarchies. Its sleight of hand is the rendering public of private-sphere material, but not … as spectacle” (226)
Nobody’s Business is an excellent example of domestic ethnography in a documentary film. Alan Berliner discloses family secrets, exposes identities, and challenges his father’s dominance through conducting his interviews. The private familial life is made public and reveals interesting family dynamics and provides a portrayal of the filmmaker, which is no way a spectacle.

A Psychoanalytic Approach to Herzog's "Grizzly Man"

Grizzly Man was a very compelling film, not only in so far as the story of Timothy Treadwell and his life in the North, but on a deeper level as well. While watching the film, I was very intrigued by the development of Timothy’s personality and the depth that the viewer was able to read in through this account of his life with the bears. I found, while watching the film, that Grizzly Man would lend itself very easily to a psychoanalytic criticism through the analysis of Timothy Treadwell. This idea was strengthened by Paul Arthur’s article “Beyond the Limits”. Arthur in fact takes the idea of psychoanalysis one step further, to the point of analyzing Werner Herzog in relation to his documentary as well.
The character development of Treadwell reveals him to be many different entities within one person. He begins as a parallel of a host from a nature show you would find on Animal Planet or Discovery (45). Herzog then establishes him as “Timmy the ‘kind warrior’ who weeps at what he thinks is a dead bee” (46); as the failed actor who “fell into drugs and SoCal surf culture” and invented a new identity for himself (45); as the founder of the Grizzly People and an animal activist; and even arguably as the “alter ego” of Herzog himself, as a “glamorously wacky rebel” (47). The range of characters and personas that stem for Treadwell immediately drew me to a psychological interest in his being.
His troubled past becomes evident several times in the movie, most obviously when Treadwell is talking openly to a ‘fox friend’ about his about his battle with alcoholism. His hatred of mainstream society also becomes quite apparent, if not through his actions alone, then through his constant profession of this fact and his outright rage towards the human element of his otherwise wild and uncultivated environment. With these conclusions, Treadwell’s reasoning for escaping to the wilderness becomes comprehendible.
Society can be seen as Treadwell’s conscious or his ego, the logical, perceivable aspect of his mind. Nature then becomes his unconscious or his id, which is ruled by primitivism and repressed emotional experiences. Arthur reveals this idea when noting that “the terrain inhabited by [Herzog’s] subjects can express inner struggles” (43). Treadwell retreats to his unconscious and is controlled by his id when he is put into a trying situation with his ego, or in reality. The repressed pains of his past build up in his unconscious to a point where they take over and he then connects more easily with his id, which is why he drives himself into nature and away from society.
To delve further into the psychoanalysis of Grizzly Man, we could define Eros and Thanatos, the life and death instincts respectively, through Treadwell’s actions. Herzog first reveals what appears to be Treadwell’s death instinct, merely through the fact that he’s living in such close contact to animals that could kill him with ease. However, he soon develops Treadwell’s Eros, as the viewer begins to understand that his life in nature was actually his escape route from a path of life destruction that he had been on in California, with his alcoholism and depression. Therefore, Treadwell’s voyage into this foreign lifestyle was in fact portraying elements of Eros. However, the pull of Thanatos remains dominant, as Freud would argue, and ultimately controls Treadwell. The close relationship with the grizzly bears reveals the presence of Treadwell’s Thanatos element. He is actually obsessed with the concept of death and, although he attempts to fight the urges at some points in his life, he is eventually consumed by it, quite literally.
The psychoanalytic criticism can transcend the boundaries of the film in order to suggest that the film in fact portrays some unconscious element of Herzog’s mind. Arthur reveals that Herzog is a “self-professed intermediary between opposing worlds” (47), which could suggest that the frontier of reality and film is in fact the border between Herzog’s conscious and unconscious. However, Herzog works to detach himself from this “secret world of the bears” (47) by disagreeing with Treadwell’s view of nature, claiming that the “universe is chaos, hostility, and murder” (47). It would be interesting to look further into Herzog’s life and his body of work to draw more in-depth conclusions on his psychodynamic connection to Grizzly Man or other films.

Monday, October 15, 2007

The Family Photo

On the topic of the family album, I thought I would include the standard family photo on Christmas. I think this is (one of) the most posed pictures I've ever been a part of. The fire place, the Christmas tree, the three daughters surrounding the parental unit, the dog. I think we've fit most of the standards of the "Christmas family photo". Oh and this was probably sent with our Christmas card the following year.

The Issue of the Family Photo Album

After reading “History, Memory, and the Family Album” by Patricia Holland, I am undecided on my interpretation of a photograph and its role as a part of history, memory, and a person’s existence. Holland has built a strong argument to suggest that photographs are a superficial form of memory and are inaccurate or incomplete accounts of the past. I continually found myself agreeing with her statements, but there was always a thought in the back of my mind, asking what the purpose of a family photograph really is. She proves that the family album portrays a certain “deceptive innocence” (1) by using examples like the photograph of the smiling children at a birthday party (taken hours after the birthday girl’s temper tantrum) to claim that photographs simply “project the appropriate emotions” (2). I have to agree with Holland, as it’s easy to look at my own photographs and see (or not see) the true story behind a photograph. A simple example of this that I see everyday is a framed photo of me and one of my best friends. That night we ended up getting in a stupid fight, but I like the picture of the two of us so I have it framed. I don’t have the picture framed to remember that night, and I don’t think of that night when I look at the picture. I have that picture framed because it reminds me of the two of us, and other memories that I have with her. I’ve separated the photo from what it is technically documenting, which is in a way manipulating my memories. However, that’s a memory that I’ve chosen to forget, with or without the photograph. Every person chooses to remember some things and forget others. This is not to say that we are able to choose everything we forget because we aren’t able to retain all memories. In this respect, photographs are helpful for triggering memories that we want to remember.
I can see why it is ‘wrong’ to manipulate our memories by keeping photographs that do not properly represent a certain experience or relationship. However, I can also see the benefits of being able to forget certain things. Holland states that “family albums are about forgetting as well as remembering” (9), which I can see as being a positive characteristic. Humans will try to shut out bad memories or traumatic experiences from their subconscious, so why shouldn’t they be able to do this in a more deliberate fashion as well? I’m not at all suggesting that we should condone practices as drastic as the memory erasing ‘treatments’ of Lacuna Inc. in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, but I do feel that memory is a personal choice. Furthermore, it’s a choice that we will make subconsciously, so I don’t see the harm in using photographs to act as a tangible representation of a person’s memory (as long as the photo album remains a personal item).
The family photo album shapes your perception of family, which is supposed to be the centre of “romantic social fantasy” (5). This is an ideological belief that provides a sense of comfort to most people. From this respect, photographs that convey the happy memories and loving relationships should be considered to be morally ‘considerate’. A photograph is a documentation of the past, which makes it a form of remembrance for a person’s life. In this way, I think photographs are comparable to a eulogy. This may be simplifying the issue, but after a person’s death, we wish to remember the positive elements of that person and the positive experiences, or memories, that we have with that person. In the most primitive sense, humans don’t want to remember the bad events in their past, especially in the family setting because it is supposed to be a loving and comforting institution. I realize that this stance is very one-sided and I am basing my stance on the assumption that viewing photographs remains a personal experience, but this was the general argument that I kept getting drawn back to while reading the Holland article.
Holland summarizes the issue of the family photograph by contrasting the “difference between an antique shop past, with its smell of new wax polish accompanying fading prints in dark wooden frames, and one’s own past, with its ambivalent and uneasy memories” (13). This comparison suggests that photographs are able to portray the past how we want to see it, without all of the sad or embarrassing family stories or even without certain family members. There is a certain homogenization of the photographs that creates an image of the past that is similar to what is presented in an antique store, with all of the useless or unattractive objects from the past discarded.
As I have stated, I think it’s perfectly acceptable to shape your choice of memory through photographs, on a personal level. However, photographs transcend the private life into the public spectrum because of their medium. When photographs become a public entity, the misconstrued past becomes less acceptable and more detrimental. Holland explains this idea well when she considers the ‘folklorisation’ of different cultures and communities. She explains that certain stereotypes are created for cultures like the “Scottishness of Scotland” or the “ruggedness of the Cornish fishing villages” (13), which people will strive to capture in photographs on family trips. It is dangerous when a certain idea of reality is preconceived and then this incorrect perception is relayed in a photograph.
The issue of the power of a photograph is thoroughly analyzed in Barbara Rosenblum’s article “I have begun the process of dying”. This article explains when and why a photograph should convey more than just a group of smiling faces. As I mentioned before, a photograph lives on as a person’s legacy, as a form of representation when someone is no longer with us.
Rosenblum is dealing with the difficulty of exposing and expressing her life in her last months of living. This creates a new purpose of the photograph, which far surpasses my proposal for its purpose to be the representation of good (or wanted) personal memories. She is searching for a way to use a camera to “capture the feelings, the expressions, the emotions” (241) of her subjective and extremely personal experience. The complexity of this process is outlined well when Rosenblum says: “The camera, by its very nature, demands exposure, that I open to it. Subjectivity, by its nature, demands that I shut everything and everyone out, so I can hear myself” (242). This is why I feel that the personal subjectivity must stand separate from the photograph. The image that a photograph portrays will always remain subjective because it can never be fully explained.
This subjectivity is made particularly apparent when reading Rosenblum’s account of her supportive and devoted relationship with her lover, Sandy. I think most people have seen this form of support and devotion in their own life and can understand that it is something a photograph will never be able to adequately communicate. However, by looking at a photograph of the two people in this loving relationship, an outsider is able to recognize and appreciate the true relationship that the photo symbolizes. This relationship will be interpreted differently by all observers, even by the two people in the photograph.
Basically, to sum up my interpretation of the readings about the family photo album is to say that I am left unsure of my opinion of the family photograph. I don’t know how it’s possible to properly transmit a memory in a photograph. I don’t even know if it’s necessary to properly transmit a memory in a photograph. I feel that a photograph is not able to portray an entire history, which makes it an inadequate means of representation and should not be relied on as heavily as it is for the portrayal of any type of past.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Seeing Life and Death Through One's Own Eyes: My Analysis of Brakhage

As I expressed in lecture and in my previous post in response to Brakhage’s “The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes”, I originally found the film to be very inappropriate and unnecessary. I responded to the film primitively, basing my response solely on my emotions without considering any elements of the film’s production or purpose. I was actually angry at Brakhage for creating such a disturbing film. However, after analyzing the film on a critical level, through the claims of the Bart Testa article, I was able to form an appreciation for the film and I was able to form my own interpretation of the film.
Testa explains the defining elements of a documentary, as well as the elements that the viewer expects from a documentary. The main defining feature that people recognize in a documentary film is the overriding argument or explanation, that one reason for exposing the visual elements as a form of supporting evidence. We (the general public) are expecting the visual images to be used as part of a greater argument that is supported by “the use of voice-overs, printed titles, and/or ‘quasi-verbal’ montage constructions” (Testa 270). The idea of the image being used as support for a greater argument or explanation can be referred to as the act of showing. Testa explains this concept well, stating that when an image is used “to illustrate a procedure that needs to be explained, for example, or to support a moral argument, [the film] provides a ready-made position from which to comprehend what is shown” (271).
In contrast to many documentary filmmakers, Brakhage strives to take the viewer out of their comfort zone. The first hint of this is the lack of sound in many of his films, including “The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes”, which he utilizes to eliminate the context of the film's subject. Furthermore, he separates the visual elements from any sort of verbal or communicative explanation and in turn eliminates the act of showing from his films. Brakhage leaves the visual image unaided or prompted by features like voice-overs or dramatic music in order to force the viewer to see everything. Testa reminds us how easily the viewer would “slip behind verbal explanations of the pathologists’ procedures, analyses of the cause of death, or perhaps some moral argument that necessitates showing such images” (270) if we were given the option when faced with such graphic and shocking content. Brakhage forces us into the act of seeing, which the title of the film aptly alludes to. In retrospect, I can see that I fell into this act of seeing, because I couldn’t think about anything but the images that were flashing in front of me for the duration of the film. I was immersed in the act of seeing or observing these unreal, unfamiliar images on the screen.
This concept of the act of seeing is emphasized well within the Testa article, as the Brakhage film is contrasted with Peter Greenway’s “Death in the Seine”, which is a reflexive pseudo-documentary that uses actors to portray deaths from 1795 to 1801 in Paris and the resulting autopsies (271). The two films address the same topic but in completely opposite ways. “Death in the Seine” relies on the act of showing to reveal the overall message of film, which is quite obviously different from Brakhage’s work.
The decision to omit sound from the film was an issue of controversy after the film was released and was even a topic of discussion and debate within our own class. As I’ve stated, it was effective because it forced the viewer to watch and see the entire film. By seeing the film, there wasn’t an outside influence on the viewer’s interpretation of the film. We were forced to create our own voice-over or narrative in order to make our own interpretation. This then allows the viewer to search introspectively. The viewer must decide if their response to the images is appropriate or accepted, which draws in a personal and moral element to the process of watching the film.
The film is part of Brakhage’s Pittsburgh trilogy that documents three different city institutions (the police, a hospital, and a morgue) and reveals a form of “public seeing”. This is a concept that made me feel a little more comfortable with the subject of the film. The trilogy consisted of “Eyes”, “Deus Ex”, and “The Act of Seeing With One’s Eyes”. The Testa article outlines the idea of public seeing within the three movies:
“Eyes casts city police as the means we use to watch over our public lives; Dues Ex depicts the hospital as the house of the protective and curing medical gaze; and the coroner’s look, … is the last collective gaze we cast upon ourselves, our bodies in death.”
Testa reveals and extensively supports the importance of vision within this film. First off, Brakhage sees vision as a whole-body experience and the film clearly connects the concept of the body with the concept of seeing. The most evident connection between vision and the body is when Brakhage takes the viewer into the skull through the eye socket (the camera enters the skull cavity). The camera is documenting the anatomical machine of vision, and we are looking at this body part through our own vision. Brakhage is displaying the “literal confrontation between our act of seeing and the body’s means of seeing” (281). This confrontation leads to the more apparent confrontation between life and death. Many critics have suggested that it is difficult or impossible to “show death” and yet, Brakhage allows us to experience the difference between life and death through this confrontation.
The opposition of life and death, or seeing and not seeing, can be further explained through Jacques Derrida’s philosophy of differance and binary oppositions. To sum up his concepts roughly is to say that language is defined by what it is different from, not by what it is. However, the idea of binary oppositions suggests that there are similarities within such common oppositions (like man/woman, life/death) because there must be some connection between the two words or concepts. For example, “life” is connected to “death” because “death" is partially defined as something that is not "life". When this philosophy is applied to the film, the viewer is witnessing the difference and similarities of life and death.
As Brakhage takes us into the “means of seeing” in a dead body (the eye socket and skull cavity), we are able to recognize that this body is no longer able to see. This is something we are realizing as we are seeing, which separates us from this body. The viewer is able to comprehend the difference between life and death by witnessing their living abilities in comparison to the dead body’s inabilities.
After viewing the film, the most disturbing aspect for me was the dehumanizing element that Brakhage displayed. To quote my first blog entry, “I don’t want to be forced to think of a person as a dead body”, meaning that I found it difficult to observe something as sacred as a human life in such a degrading form. I felt that Brakhage had brought the human body down to its most demeaning level. I now realize that there are many more levels to this portrayal of the human body as a dead body. He uses the context of a morgue to show the power and importance of seeing. The film transforms the space from a mysterious, foreign zone into a space where the body transforms from its human form, and the film does this solely by allowing people to see this unknown space (Testa 283). Brakhage’s film is about this transformation, as it is self-contained within the morgue.
Brakhage has made several films that examine the rituals surrounding death and the body that remains after death, including “Sirius Remembered” and “The Dead”. Although they both cover very different events, there is a connection to “The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes”. Brakhage reveals the concept of death through the act of seeing within this film. By forcing the viewer to see and to interpret the film independently, it brings about some moral issues and pushes our personal limits, but the film goes past that to display the binary opposition of life and death. Like any opposition, one element can only exist in relation to the other, which in fact makes the two concepts similar. My interpretation of “The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes”, after reading the Testa article, is that Brakhage is putting the preconceived notions of life and death into question. By forcing the viewer to see the entire film and by organizing the film in a way that never allows the viewer to become desensitized, Brakhage makes the viewer acknowledge the unbreakable connection between life and death and forces us to accept this within in our lives.
Even through the name of the film, we can see the connection between life and death. When Brakhage takes the camera into the eye socket of the corpse, we are essentially seeing out of the eyes of the dead body. Consider this idea in relation to the title: "The Act of Seeing with One's Own Eyes". Brakhage creates a connection between our vision and the dead body's vision and uses the film's title as an ambiguous connection between the two. He very subtly hints that we are seeing out of our own eyes, which is not to say that we are this specific dead body, but that we will all be in the same position at some time. Brakhage forces the image of death into our field of vision quite obviously, but when looking on a more analytical level, we can see the binaries of life and death that he is portraying to the viewer.



http://youtube.com/watch?v=luO9uTzYi3s : Here's the link to Brakhage's film "Sirius Remembered" for anyone who didn't find "The Act of Seeing with One's Own Eyes" too disturbing.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

my job history

I think I've had pretty typical jobs in the past, but I can definitely see how they affect my life outside of work. My first job was at a clothing store, where my main job was folding clothes and cleaning my designated area. I worked in the outside tent of Sporting Life, where customers seem to think there is a special exception for making a mess. So I did a lot of cleaning that summer, which made me very bitter everytime I went shopping. It got to the point where I didn't feel like I should attempt to fold clothes wherever I went shopping because no one did it at my store for me.
I worked at a golf course for a couple summers, partly driving around the beverage cart. I had to track the number of pepsis, gatorades, coors light, bud light, keiths, smirnoff, guiness, etc so everytime I put more drinks or refreshments on the cart I'd have to count them out. I find myself still counting everything I do. If I'm packing stuff to go away for a weekend or something like that, I sometimes find myself counting out the number of shirts, socks, etc. It's really strange because I don't even notice it sometimes but my old job gave me a mild case of OCD it seems! Another thing that I brought home from my job at the golf course was my fake conversation voice. I came up with a couple different phrases that I said all the time at work to the members because there were a lot of older couples that I had to talk to in a certain way. This also happened when I worked as a fundraiser for a couple different charities. I had to stand on the street and ask people if they "had a minute for (insert charity name here)". Again, I came up with a couple safe phrases or responses that I said once every couple minutes basically. I ended up saying these phrases and using my fake voice outside of work and it just became second nature. It seems impossible to separate yourself from work, and I'm not sure if you really should. As Terkel shows, your job is a big part of who you are. I think summer jobs are a little bit less true in this sense, but they are still a big part of your life and, obviously, have an affect on different elements of your life that you may not expect.