Journal articles on the topic 'American Silent films American drama'

The article studies the methods and means used in modern American film drama to control the audiences emotional state, sorting out the major techniques of such control as exemplified by specific films. The main focus is on the catharsis as the key moment of watching a film.

This study focuses on the depiction of homosexuality in American films. It is intended to identify the images of gays depicted in American films as well as the characteristics of American gay movies. It incorporates library research by applying an analytical descriptive approach in analyzing the data. The symbol and reflective theory is used to analyze 18 American movies and 14 gay films from other countries in the early 2000s. It shows that gay films can attract audiences by describing gays as the objects for laughs; gays revealing their sexual identities; sexual scenes of gays; masculine gay men; and violence in gay life. They appear in genres like drama, comedy, romance, detective, western, and horror/mystery with two images of gay people shown in American gay movies; they are the portrait of gays as a minority and the pessimism. However, it also shows that some American gay films picture good gay life, happy gay couples, gay marriage, etc.

AbstractThe portrayal of Arab women in Hollywood from the silent movies to today stands in sharp contrast to the portrayal of American women over the same time period and can be defined by off screen politics. By examining important American films over nearly 100 years, this article describes Arab and American women characters through five political-historical phases of US international relations that define their Hollywood images: 1) pre-World War II, 2) from World War II to the 1960s, 3) the 1970s, 4) the 1980s to 11 September 2001 and 5) post-9/11. The analysis reveals a variety of archetypes for both Arab and American women, but the main finding suggests a limited role for American women and the near absence of Arab women in Hollywood movies. Independent filmmakers and upcoming Arab-American movie makers may yet be able to fill this void.

Many of the top-grossing feature films spanning from 1915–1927 utilized rape as a device for defining manhood and thereby establishing power relationships. The images of rape in these silent films idealized the power of respectable white men over the men and women of other classes and races and subordinated the women from their own social station. These movies constructed white men as heroes and guardians of morality and civilization, white women as frail but morally superior figures, and African-American and immigrant men and women as uncontrollable sexual deviants who threatened civilization. These films reflected the fears of the white middle class that massive immigration, waves of black migration to the North, and the increasingly public role of women were irrevocably changing American society and threatening the power of the traditional dominant group in the United States: white middle- and upper-class men.

Abstract Picking up on recent feminist calls for an emphasis on social histories of cinema, the author argues for the importance of socio-historical contextualization in order to preserve feminist goals of critiquing epistemologies and power relations. Analyzing two early Edison films, she shows that the historical importance of each can be located in the ways they depict ideological confusion over female sexuality and mobility in changing urban spaces. Through socio-cultural contextualization, she further illuminates how Laughing Gas (Edison, 1907) depicts social tensions about the national rise of African American female domestics.

Abstract Bronisław Mirski (b. 1887 as Moszkowicz in Żyrardów near Warsaw, Poland – d. 1927 in El Paso, Texas) belongs to the substantial group of Polish émigré artists of Jewish origin. A violinist and conductor educated in Europe, he permanently settled in the United States at the end of 1914 under the name of Nek Mirskey and soon began working as a music director in movie theatres. He was in charge of the musical settings for elaborate artistic programmes composed of silent films as well as music and stage attractions. His first widely acclaimed shows were presented at the Metropolitan Theatre of Harry M. Crandall's chain in Washington, D.C. Based primarily on the American press of 1921–23, this article discusses Mirski's work methods and his involvement in improving the quality of live musical accompaniment for silent films. The work that he continued till the end of his life places him among the foremost musicians of the silent film era.

Tina Benko is an American stage, screen and television actress who has steadily trodden the Broadway boards for twenty years while starring in films and TV series and teaching acting and movement in New York City. An intensely focused and versatile performer, Benko has played in a broad variety of genres, ranging from screwball and Shakespearean comedies to realistic Russian, Scandinavian and American plays. In this interview, she discusses the factors that attracted her to drama and theatre, her acting training and approach to character-building, and theatre as a space for healing and reconciliation as she experienced it while working in Desdemona (2012), a cross-cultural theatre adaptation of William Shakespeare’s Othello staged by American theatre and opera director Peter Sellars, with texts by African American Nobel Laureate Toni Morrison, and music and lyrics by Malian singer-songwriter Rokia Traoré.

Although food has been part of motion pictures since the silent era, for the most part it has been treated with about as much respect as movie extras: it's always been there on the screen but seldom noticed –– that is until the 1970s and 1980s when food's photogenic qualities were discovered by a handful of filmmakers who made food a star, thus giving birth to a new genre: food films. To document how food has been treated in movies from the silent era to the present, the author reviewed over 800 American and foreign films. This article, excerpted from the enlarged and updated second edition of the author's book, Food in the Movies, to be released in November, 2009, highlights some of the significant technological, cinematic and cultural forces at work over the past century that helped give birth to as many as thirty food films released in the past thirty years. Some of the more popular ones include: Tampopo (1986), Babette's Feast, (1987), Like Water for Chocolate (1992), Eat Drink Man Woman (1994), Big Night (1996), Mostly Martha (2001), and most recently No Reservations (2007). The article also provides a behind-the-scene look at the extraordinary culinary efforts required to prepare the sumptuous dishes we see on the screen.

The article focuses on the first period in the history of Australian cinema. It is well-known that the present is always rooted in the past. This is true of any national cinema, and the Australian one is no exception. This subject is relevant in the light of the fact that, in the first place, the reasons for the contemporary boom in Australian cinema are impossible to understand and analyze unless they are derived from the awareness of the first steps of Australian cinema. It was in the very first years of the existence of Australian cinema that there emerged a special worldview, inherent in the cinematographic messages of this nation, that would later become iconic of Australian cinema: addressing the reality of Australia, love for its wild and beautiful nature and for the people who civilize this severe land. In their works the filmmakers of the Green Continent have almost always unflaggingly introduced two protagonists, an animate one, a manly, daring human being, and an inanimate one, the nature, magnificent, powerful, unexplored... At the same time, there was formed an image of a Hero: a fair, proud man, for whom honor and dignity are closely linked to striving for freedom. A conflict between the Individual and a soulless system is manifested in the early bushranger films and in the contemporary ones alike, now that the films by the Australian filmmakers come out again and again featuring the Individuals attempts at breaking his bondage. The novelty of this research lies in the fact that while the contemporary period of Australian cinema is well-covered in the global film criticism, the past of this national cinema is almost unknown. Considering the interest in the phenomenon of the contemporary cinema of the Green Continent, the author concludes that the global success of the Australian films today is largely linked to the accomplishments of the cinema pioneers, who against tough competition from American and English films, have laid a foundation for the future victories of this special national cinema.

The image of Chinese women portrayed in American films is essentially the West’s imagination of China, conveyed by the female body and constructed in the Orientalist discourse. Over the past one hundred years, Chinese women have been primarily depicted as docile, weak, submissive, voiceless, and in need of being rescued and guided by Occidentals. With the evolution of the global order and the rise of China’s international status, the silent Orient has taken the initiative to resist and reshape this voiceless, “other-ed” image. This article aims to focus on the female characters in Saving Face, an American film directed by Chinese American director Alice Wu in 2004, and analyzes how the director reverses the stereotyped Chinese female image based on the theoretical framework of Orientalism and postcolonial studies, not only “the other” with regards to men, but also “the other” as to the Occident, thus dismantling long-held misreadings of China.

Abstract Ten film reviews by Siegfried Kracauer from the 1920s and early 1930s are translated here for the first time, with a brief introduction by the translator. Leaving aside reviews that have already been translated elsewhere, and focusing almost exclusively on the silent period, the present selection was guided by two considerations. First, it includes reviews of several films that have entered the canon of world cinema (The Last Laugh, The Blue Angel, The Man with the Movie Camera, Girls in Uniform). Second, it reflects Kracauer’s attraction, particularly during the early 1920s, to American slapstick.

The opening sequence of Ragtime (1981) takes place in a theater during the silent film era where the protagonist, Coalhouse Walker Jr. (Howard Rollins, Jr.), accompanies a newsreel featuring the stars of American public life in the early decades of the twentieth century. While postmodern theorists and film historians have linked the content and form of textual and visual fictions with their historical counterparts, less attention has been given to musical and aural styles as historiographic interventions. And while new research in historical film studies has revealed the flirtations of mainstream feature films with postmodern critique, much of this work skirts the racially coded structures of historiography. This article explores screenwriter Michael Weller and director Milos Forman’s decision to focus on Coalhouse’s story (over novelist E. L. Doctorow’s objections) and to deploy ragtime as both African American counter-beat and explosive historical style.

This essay examines the underappreciated work of the Hollywood scenarist and humor writer Anita Loos. In general, Loos is known separately to film scholars, as a prominent writer of silent films, and to historians of American culture, as an important twentieth‐century humorist. However, her film‐writing career and her work in the theory of film writing influenced the narrative structure and assumptions of her fiction. Through readings of Loos's three early novels, the essay demonstrates how the humor and complex cinematic structure of these texts depend on a stark text‐image divide that stems directly from her ideas about writing for silent film. Looking at Loos's fiction in the light of her intimate familiarity with the film industry provides new insight into dialogues about high and popular culture and into the engagement of modernism with cinema. (BEH)

The article explores the functions of film costumes in the works of Cecil B. DeMille, the American film director, whose pictures of the late 1910s and early 1920s are notable for their artistic achievements in the field of set and costume design. On the material of certain films from his “matrimonial cycle”, the author analyses the narrative and spectacular functions of costumes, while making an emphasis on the director’s role in the development of the artistic uniqueness and visual extravagance of Hollywood films of this period. The films of this cycle display some key strategies in film costume function- ing and design methods that would be adopted by the Hollywood film industry to become the new production standard in this field.

In the summer of 2009, while on vacation in Italy, I lay on a deck chair on a beach under the scorching sun reading Ecology of Fear: Los Angeles and the Imagination of Disaster. I had taken Mike Davis's book as holiday reading after becoming interested in attitudes to sustainability as represented in films through supervising the unpublished dissertation ‘The Science and Fiction of Sustainable Living’. The dissertation analysed approaches to the green movement of the 1970s versus those held today. It did this through the study of ecological science fiction movies made during the two periods. As someone grounded in humanities research, using film studies research methods rather than conventional building science methods seemed to me an engaging, original approach to sustainability. The dissertation compared the 1972 American environmental science fiction film Silent Running to the 2007 British science fiction film Sunshine. During this supervision, the student gave me a copy of the films. Because Silent Running resonated with me, I took it on that same Italian holiday and watched it again. I recall thinking that Silent Running offered a departure point for an alternative kind of sustainable design studio. Then and there, I selected a film clip that I screened – in the background and without volume – at studio presentations to students held in September 2009.

Abstract The paper presents the author’s research on the representation of painters and sculptors, their models and their art works in Italian silent cinema of the 1910s and early 1920s. This research deals with both the combination of optical (painterly) vs. haptical (sculptural) cinema. It also problematizes art versus the real, as well as art conceived from cinema’s own perspective, that is within the conventions of European and American cinema. In addition to research in these filmic conventions the author compares how the theme manifests itself within different genres, such as comedy, crime and adventure films, diva films and strong men films. Examples are : Il trionfo della forza (The Triumph of Strength, 1913), La signora Fricot è gelosa (Madam Fricot is Jelous, 1913), Il fuoco (The Fire, Giovanni Pastrone, 1915), Il fauno (The Faun, Febo Mari, 1917), Il processo Clemenceau (The Clemenceau Affair, Alfredo De Antoni, 1917) and L’atleta fantasma (The Ghost Athlete, Raimondo Scotti, 1919). I will relate this pioneering study to recent studies on the representation of art and artists in Hollywood cinema, such as Katharina Sykora’s As You Desire me. Das Bildnis im Film (2003), Susan Felleman’s Art in the Cinematic Imagination (2006) and Steven Jacobs’s Framing Pictures. Film and the Visual Arts (2011), and older studies by Thomas Elsaesser, Angela Dalle Vacche, Felleman and the author.

The command crisis as a story line has been used in many references of the cinema war genre throughout years, but it is in the stories framed under the surface of the sea where it can reach its greatest destabilization capacity. The films of the subgenre suggested to exemplify this study are the North American Run Silent Run Deep (Robert Wise, 1958) and Crimson Tide (Tony Scott, 1995). Both films were produced during a post-war era and narrate the rivalry of a commander and his executive officer in wartime submarines of the United States Navy. Commanding problems severely affect the ecosystem of the ships, creating a struggle for control during patrol. By means of observation, the relationship between History and these films will be analysed, as much as the strategy and narrative process with the objective of verifying keys in the use of the plot.

The article examines the largely forgotten British émigré film Dark Journey, its Swedish setting and Scandinavian release. The spy drama, which tells the story of German and French secret agents in Stockholm during World War I by mixing thriller elements with romance, raises a number of questions regarding the representation of spies in a Scandinavian context, Sweden as a contested film market in the later 1930s and the transnational production strategy of films made at the Denham studios in Britain. It is one of the films that helped the profession of secret agents to change its image from a dingy and unchivalrous activity to an adventurous, illustrious and cosmopolitan enterprise. Interestingly, the film offers a very positive portrayal of its German protagonist, played by Conrad Veidt, that is at odds with other Anglo-American spy films but not at all uncommon for Swedish spy fiction.

The plays of the American avant-garde writer and director Richard Foreman present actors with a significant problem: their characters exist in a constant state of flux, detached from the usual narrative moorings, with the result that conventional acting methodologies do not apply. Drawing on interviews with Foreman himself, with the actors who worked with him on his New York production of King Cowboy Rufus Rules the Universe (2004), and on the rehearsal process of a student group preparing for the UK premiere of Pearls for Pigs (1993), Neal Swettenham investigates in this essay the precise challenges posed by these unusual texts. He argues that Foreman wants to provoke in his actors a sense of being permanently ‘off-balance’, requiring each of the performers in King Cowboy Rufus to develop their own way of navigating the play's contradictory demands. Similarly, the UK actors discovered that the unconventional dialogue, stripped of all contextual clues, must still be delivered with intention and rigour. Certain very specific European films cited by Foreman provide possible pointers to an acting style appropriate to the plays but, in the final analysis, the actor's problem remains. Neal Swettenham lectures in drama at Loughborough University. His ‘Irish Rioters, Latin American Dictators, and Desperate Optimists' Play-boy’ appeared in NTQ83 (August 2005).

AbstractIn many histories of American film music, Max Steiner's score forKing Kong(1933) marks a new era by establishing norms in original, symphonic underscoring that would dominate Hollywood for decades.Kong's reign, however, eclipses diverse approaches to underscoring practiced at studios before and after its release. In this study, I compare the methods of Max Steiner at RKO and Nathaniel Finston at Paramount to show how both influenced film music implementation and discourse in the years leading up toKong. Steeped in the practices of silent cinema, Finston championed collaborative scoring and the use of preexistent music in films likeFighting Caravans(1931). Steiner preferred to compose alone and placed music strategically to delineate narrative space in films, as inSymphony of Six Million(1932), a technique he adapted for mediating exotic encounters in island adventure films precedingKong. Although press accounts and production materials show that Steiner and Finston's methods proved resilient in subsequent years,Kong's canonic status has marginalized Finston's role and threatens to misdirect appraisals of Steiner's other work. Considering Finston's practices at Paramount alongside Steiner's pre-Kongscores at RKO illuminates the limitations of using onlyKongas a model, and shows that Finston's perspective on film scoring in the early 1930s provides a corrective balance for understanding film musicians’ work before and afterKong.

The current study is mainly intended to explore linguistic realizations of impoliteness strategies employed in speeches uttered by the characters in Death of a Salesman written by the American playwright, Arthur Miller. Occurrences of impoliteness strategies in the data are searched for and then quantitatively counted. Ninety-five impolite speeches are extracted as the data and analysed in terms of Culpeper’s model (1996) so as to unwrap the aesthetic function of language. The analysis reveals that the most dominant impolite speeches are mirrored by positive impoliteness (utilizing taboo words) which constitute 37% followed by bald impoliteness constituting 21%, negative impoliteness (invading the other’s space) constituting 9.5%, sarcasm or mock impoliteness constituting 6.32%, negative impoliteness (scorn or ridiculous) constituting 6.32%, negative impoliteness (associating the other with a negative aspect explicitly) constituting 5.3%, positive impoliteness (calling the other names) constituting 4.22%, positive impoliteness (inappropriate identity markers) and (disassociating from the others) constituting 3.17% and withhold politeness (being silent) and (failing to thank) constituting 1%, respectively. The findings show a manifestation of lack of edification and morality during the characters’ interaction. The characters’ disharmony and mutiny move the plot of the drama forward and tandem evoke the interest of the audience. Accordingly, the study significantly concludes that such characters’ unfriendly interaction, profanity and disequilibrium reflect the domestic and social severity of life and the psychological persecution due to the middle-class anxieties during the postwar II period in America which are liable to be highlighted via a thought-provoking dramatic embodiment.

This essay briefly discusses recent American films about urban public schools, citingresearch to suggest that the genre accurately captures the dysfunctions of many schools as bureaucracies. This sets up a lengthy review of the most talked about education drama of 2012, Won’t Back Down. On its artistic merits, Won’t Back Down is something of an after school special, with great acting wasted in the service of a melodramatic script. The education policy instrument portrayed, the “parent trigger” enabling parents to take over dysfunctional schools, has questionable utility. That said, the movie captures nonresponsive bureaucracies, school boards indifferent to the interests of children, how bureaucrats can make activist parents and teachers pay a heavy price, and the sort of organizing tactics that can outlast the educational establishment. Most notably, the film excels at explaining the tactics and motivations of union leaders and members. In short, while it fails as a work of art, Won’t Back Down works as work of social science, exploring dilemmas of bureaucracy and democracy.

Questions have been raised by many filmmakers over the years as to whether the 1965 coup in Indonesia was the handiwork of the Indonesian Communist Party. American/British documentary filmmaker, Joshua Oppenheimer, who has previously made The Act of Killing on the same subject, poses the question again with a new documentary. But this time, he takes a cinematic approach by fully utilising the language of film to create a solemn and meditative work. He focuses on the faces and the silence of the individuals involved, in an effort to probe their minds. The individuals are some of the surviving killers as well as the brother and family of one of those who were killed. Oppenheimer also places emphasis on landscape as character. In the area of the killings, the landscape stands as a silent witness to the horrors perpetrated there. The demonisation of the communists continues till today in Indonesia, as it does in Malaysia as well as Singapore. The millennium saw revisionist histories surfacing that explored the blatant demonisation and vilification of communists. Films with a creative approach began to be made by young people who explored what had transpired, in an effort to foreground the truth.

The opening scene of Joel and Ethan Coen's A Serious Man has baffled many. What does an unsettling tale of an encounter with what may or may not be a dybbuk, set in the mid-nineteenth century in a Polish shtetl, and played out entirely in Yiddish, have to do with the story of a Jewish professor of physics and his family in suburban Minnesota in the summer of 1967, related in English? Is the scene to be viewed as a warm-up of sorts before the main attraction, akin, if you will, to the short-subject films—newsreels, animated cartoons, and live-action comedies and documentaries—that movie houses of old used to play before the main feature? If so, what is the significance of presenting an odd Yiddish scene to an American audience notorious for turning a cold shoulder to non-English-speaking cinema? Or is the scene to be viewed as a prologue to the movie? If so, in what sense could it be said to impart to the audience either the “state of suspense of the plot produced by the previous history” or, alternatively, the argument of the drama?

The cinema of the 1910s witnessed the birth of the film star, modelled after theatrical strategies that were spearheaded by actresses of international renown such as Sarah Bernhardt. She can be seen to have given birth to the notion of ‘famous players in famous plays’ in 1912, though in Denmark, the influential Nordisk Films Kompagni had already invested more extensively in marketing the appeal of theatrical stars that crossed over into the realm of film by this time. I will trace how Nordic drama was marketed internationally by analysing the trajectory of one of the most important, yet undervalued, actresses of the time, Betty Nansen (1873–1943) – also known as the Bernhardt of Scandinavia. Nansen was the model for the new ‘post-Ibsen’ female in Scandinavian society, both on and off the stage, and additionally a key example of how theatre and film uniquely managed to bridge the gap in Denmark. Betty Nansen’s stage and screen work reinforced each other, from the Danish Royal Theatre to the American Fox Film Corporation, and to managing her own theatre in Copenhagen, the still extant Betty Nansen Teatret.

The potential and the problems of multicultural theatre have frequently been described and debated in this as in other theatre journals, but discussions of its value and viability have generally been in ethical terms – over how far it is possible for the West to ‘import’ or otherwise employ the theatrical traditions of other cultures without resort to an imperialist appropriation of what is found ‘consumable’, to the detriment of the culture thus despoiled. While not ignoring the moral arguments, John Russell Brown here deals also with the practical issues – notably, how far different kinds of theatre depend on being ‘site-specific’ not only in terms of the performers involved, but also in terms of audiences and their responses. He argues that, paradoxically, truly intercultural theatre is more often to be found where western influences from Hollywood films or pop music have become part of the lived experience of eastern cultures, or in western communities where (for example) British and West Indian or ‘Anglo’ and Latino-American traditions have become intertwined. He suggests that rather than trying to embrace the substance of ‘other’ traditions, western theatre might better benefit by exploring the conventions that modulate the relationship between actors and audience, or the approach of the actor to different kinds of ‘text’. He concludes: ‘By using overseas research to develop its own inheritance, a theatre might discover what it alone needs to create and encourage a more active and imaginative response from its local audience.’ A widely published writer on drama and theatre, John Russell Brown was first Head of the University of Birmingham's Department of Drama and Theatre Arts, and was subsequently an Associate Director at the National Theatre in London. Currently he is visiting Professor at Columbia University, New York.

The vampire is a phenomenon in western literature and culture. As many literary works featuring vampire are produced every year and continue to interest of the audiences, the creature becomes even embedded in the heart of not only western people, but also most people in the world. Currently, the researches on the creature either as a part of the myth or a character in literary works is so booming. They conclude that there is transformation of vampire both in myth and literary work. The research on literary works mostly generalizes vampire and Dracula as similar terms referring to blood sucker in general. In fact, those two terms actually refer to different signifieds. Therefore, this research aims to discuss specifically the development of literary works, especially films featuring the Dracula character since Stoker’s story is still adapted in the current era. The discussion focuses on the conventions and inventions of Dracula films in the early twenty first century and how those new formulas are related to the social background. This research is qualitative research and data are collected from the library. In addition, the basic theory used is genre analysis which situates texts within textual and social contexts. In the field of American Studies, such analysis is relevant to McDowell’s theory of “past, present and future” which supports interdisciplinary studies of time development.As the finding of the research on twenty four films produced during 2000 to 2014 the researcher concludes that most of them mix the elements of some genres. There are eleven pure horror Dracula films, eight horror action, two horror drama, one horror adventure, one horror sci-fi, and one horror romance. Furthermore, the researcher found five formula inventions including: 1. the shifting themes which include the emergence of science and the blurring of sexuality; 2. the variation of the stereotypical characters which includes the turn of the villain into hero and the challenge of women as heroes; 3. the changing motive; 4. the variation of setting, and 5. the replacement of properties. In the further analysis, the development of the formulas is certainly the result of the mixing genres, and also the response to two major issues flourishes in today’s era such as the issue of modernity and rationality and the phenomenon of ‘New Women’ and ‘Now Women.’Keywords: vampire, Dracula, formula, convention, invention

This article investigates the ‘glocalization’ of the US TV popular drama series The West Wing, while focusing on one (in some ways) exceptional episode . Because politics is inherently linked to language, discourse and communication, I will take an approach from the perspective of critical discourse analysis (the discourse-historical approach), with a particular focus on elements of argumentation theory and rhetoric, and combine this with media studies. More specifically, I attempt to illustrate how a thorough understanding of the topoi operating within the complex dialogues and interactions helps to reveal the series’ (manifest and latent) political and didactic objectives, embedded in a longstanding tradition of conveying US American liberal values via films and TV.The episode analyzed in this article, Isaac and Ishmael (which was broadcast immediately after 9/11) is exceptional because it explicitly relates to salient real life events; its topical focus on the ‘war on terror’ shifts attention from US domestic politics to an issue that, according to US policy rhetoric, concerns the whole world. Thus, this episode links the debates taking place in one of the world’s most famous institutions, The White House, with those occurring in workplaces across the world: a truly ‘g/local’ moment. The interdisciplinary analysis allows insight into the intricate and complex discursive construction of new glocal narratives, particularly in times of political crisis, revealing which norms are projected and recontextualized both locally and globally, given the many translations of the series worldwide.

Abstract This paper analyses two recent works by American filmmaker Ken Jacobs that deal with aspects of remediation. The first is A Tom Tom Chaser, in which Jacobs records the telecine process that transforms the classic silent film Tom, Tom, the Piper’s Son from chemical into electronic media. The film is riddled with poetic turns inviting the audience to rediscover the medial noise hidden by images. Moreover, Jacobs focuses on the moment of transition from a material medium (the film strip) to the immaterial (the image, the video), so that the noise brings the viewer closer to a perception or brief capture of the medium in itself. Images are both figured and disfigured along this process. The second work is The Guests, an unconventional 3D film in which Jacobs transforms a short take from a Lumière Brothers film by discovering unseen views of the original footage. In his remediation of the 3D technology, Jacobs employs the Pulfrich effect, which allows him to blur the images of the archival film and to create instances of uncertainty between the views coming from the two human eyes. As a result of this procedure, the characters in the film seem to look directly at the audience. The analysis of both films highlights the poetry of the typical manoeuvre by which Jacobs perverts the archival medium, whereupon the viewing mode between media denaturalizes the usual media gaze (framed and representational), focusing on the moment of viewing in itself. This, as a result, favours the medium for what it is and subverts the gaze that expects something representational, discursive, perhaps story-driven.

The idea of replacing revenues from alcohol sale with income from cinema attendance was put forward by L. Trotsky in Soviet Russia in the early 1920s. At the stage of transition from silent cinema to the sound one this idea received a significant number of supporters. Anyhow attendance statistics proved a considerable gap between alcohol profitability and yield, calculated on theatre booking. In order to heal the situation quite a number of new cinemas had to be built. Since the state did not have adequate resources at its disposal, it was decided to refurbish the churches into cinema theatres. As a result the two important aims were to be gained: efficient increase of attendance and effective antireligious propaganda. Achievements of Soviet cinema in the early 1930s supported the idea of cinema to triumph over alcohol. Iosif Stalin proclaimed the replacement of the income from vodka with income from cinema as an official party and state program: expanding industrial base of the Soviet cinema, making more films, increasing the film circulation, building more cinemas. I. Stalins idea was to be realized by the chairman of the GUKF B. Shumyatsky. Acquainted with American and European experience, he proposed a number of reforms in the film industry, the key to which was the creation of the Cinema city in the South of the country, the Soviet Hollywood. As a result, the Soviet film industry had to be increased 10 times. But the project of the Cinema city was not approved by the government. While B. Shumyatsky was working over this project, the assets of the Soviet cinema were actually put on the slide. As a result, the output of film production in Russia decreased significantly, not allowing to execute the annual plan. Thus the idea to replace vodka income into cinema one turned out unfulfilled.

The purpose of this study is to characterize the image of the protagonist of the saga of the boxer Rocky through the prism of mythopoetics as a type of new cultural hero in the field of sports. Research methods are historical and cultural, mythopoetic, and comparative. Its application allows to outline the genetic connection of the image of the hero-boxer with the literary tradition; identify its main parameters as a mythohero; allocate the points of intersection of the author's myth with the myth of the American dream; consider the acquisition of the mytheme of Rocky the beginnings of the ideologeme.Results of the research: The genesis of the image goes back to the traditions of neo-romantic literature. The active appeal to a ritual and a myth, and a new wave of interest in sports as an embodiment of the principle of agony and, therefore, the popularity of sports drama, resulted in the mythologization of the boxer character in the culture of the 20th century. The distinct feature of the movie is a genre syncretism; it is a combination of sports drama, film-biography, action, and melodrama with typical for mytho-scenario archetypic situations. This determines the mass audience and the range of interpretation of Rocky’s story, formed as a mythological scenario. Rocky’s biography interweaves the facts of life of the real prototypes (boxers Rocky Marciano, Rocky Graziano), fictional characters (heroes of Hollywood sports movies), and autobiographical (Sylvester Stallone). The connection with sports as a ritual gives the film a mythological connotation. Simultaneously, it highlights the utilitarian aspect, inherent in the American tradition of Enlightenment and focused on the practical application of the context. The stories of Rocky’s boxing matches, and the stories of his relationships we perceive as “steps” of his initiation to a new cultural hero or a hero of mass culture. This occurs in a chronotope with characteristics of large (Philadelphia) and small (boxing ring) topos as places of professional and personal recognition. Rocky IV stands out among the films of the franchise; the protagonist embodies the athlete-defender of the national way of life that fights against a boxer from the “empire of evil”; and from the cult hero from of mass culture he turns into a mytho-ideology.Conclusions. The popular character of world cinema Rocky Balboa realizes the typical for the 20th century need for the new cultural heroes. Belonging to the two entertainment spheres – cinema and sports – the character created by Stallone gained immense popularity and a long screen “life”. Whereas Rocky’s assertion to the mytheme, and then ideologeme, led to a “fantastic” origin as a character, that is, a combination of biographies of real and fictional prototypes; connection of life scenario with rituals; correlation of moral and ethical beliefs of the hero with the ideas of the national myth of the American dream; his life trials as stages of initiation in the sacred chronotope.Key words: Rocky, mythohero, ritual, sports drama, chronotope, mytho-ideology. Мета цієї студії – схарактеризувати образ протагоніста кіносаги про боксера Роккі крізь призму міфопоетики як тип нового культурного героя із царини спорту. Методами дослідження є історико-культурний, міфопоетичний і порівняльний. Їх застосування дає можливість окреслити генетичний зв’язок образу героя-боксера з літературною традицією; визначити його основні параметри як міфогероя; вказати на точки перетину авторського міфу з міфом американської мрії; розглянути набуття міфологемою Роккі обрисів ідеологеми.Результати дослідження: з’ясовано, що ґенеза образу персонажа-спортсмена сягає неоромантичної традиції. Тоді як міфологізація кіногероя-боксера в культурі ХХ ст. зумовлена активним зверненням до ритуалу і міфу; новою хвилею інтересу до спортивних змагань як втіленням принципу агонічності; популярністю жанру спортивної кінодрами. Разом із тим масову глядацьку аудиторію і потужний інтерпретаційний потенціал персонажа Роккі забезпечував і жанровий синкретизм фільмів про нього: поєднання елементів спортивної драми, фільму-біографії, бойовика, мелодрами з типовими для міфосценарію архетипними ситуаціями. Визначено, що в екранній історії Роккі переплітаються факти з життя боксерів Р. Марчіано, Р. Граціано, героїв спортивних кінодрам і факти біографії самого С. Сталлоне. Зв’язок зі спортом як ритуалом надає фільмам про Роккі міфологічного підтексту і водночас окреслює його «утилітарний» аспект, притаманний американській просвітницькій традиції і орієнтований на практичне застосування переглянутого. Історії боксерських поєдинків кіногероя разом з історіями взаємин із «ближнім колом» сприймаються етапами ініціації на шляху до нового культурного героя у хронотопі, де великий (Філадельфія) і малий (ринг) топоси стають місцями здобуття ним професійного і особистісного визнання. Наголошено, що серед фільмів франшизи виокремлюється четвертий епізод, де Роккі втілює спортсмена-захисника національного способу життя, виступаючи проти боксера з «імперії зла». У такий спосіб герой масової свідомості переходить у міфоідеологему.Висновки. У культовому персонажеві світового кінематографу Роккі Бальбоа зреалізована характерна для людини маси ХХ ст. потреба в нових культурних героях. Завдяки приналежності до двох видовищних сфер – кіно і спорт – персонаж, створений С. Сталлоне, здобув величезну популярність і тривале екранне «життя». Тоді як утвердження Роккі у статусі пев-ної міфологеми, а потім й ідеологеми, зумовило «чудесне» походження як персонажа, тобто поєднання біографій реальних і фікційних прототипів; зв’язок життєвого сценарію з ритуалами; кореляцію морально-етичних переконань героя з ідеями національного міфу американської мрії; його життєві випробування як етапи ініціації в сакральному хронотопі.Ключові слова: фільм «Роккі», міфогерой, ритуал, спортивна драма, хронотоп, ідеологема.

While the lack of black femme presence is theorized explicitly with respect to film genres and the canon of American cinema in the work of Kara Keeling, the ontological position of the black femme (whom Keeling understands to be both visually impossible and interdicted yet full of cinematic possibility) has long been a point of interrogation in Black Studies with an extensive critical genealogy. In Saidiya Hartman's book Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route, the loss of the black mother animates the historical imagination of transatlantic slavery, just as her loss is irreducibly felt in relation to its afterlife. In the work of Frank B. Wilderson III, there is an explicit rejection of the potential of the black woman within film, specifically the viability of her maternal function, insofar as the black mother remains categorically essential to the construction of black (masculine) subjectivity. In light of the contradictory arc of this genealogy, the current task is not only to theorize the black maternal as an extension of the black femme, but to bring that position into view as the unthought. The black mother tends to be dramatized as the singular figure through which the cinema cultivates a distinctly black visual historiography. Even when placed under narrative erasure or withheld from view, the mother crystallizes a cinematic black aesthetic that fashions and envisions diasporic culture and forms of black collectivity as tied to a speculative and fraught filial genealogy. The critical arc in black narrative cinema over the last ten years from Get Out to Pariah, to Mother of George, and finally to Moonlight insists upon black motherhood as integral to the aesthetics of form and the genre-making capacities of film. One could go so far as to claim that the elements of cinematic form that drive these narratives reflect aesthetic choices that have to do with coloration, shot position, and narrative flashbacks that are themselves bound up with and inflected through the haunting and cipher-like construction of black maternal figures. Furthermore, these films insist upon simultaneously marking and excluding the mother from the emotional drama of black subjective life and its complex and contradictory expressions of intimacy, which have as much to do with the breaking and splintering of familial bonds as bridging gaps. It is clear that the mother sutures these bonds; she is a scar, a visible reminder and remainder of a terrible historicity that cannot be assimilated into the idealization of the American family.

This essay offers a succinct but comprehensive overview of Icelandic cinema from its early 20th-century emergence to the present day. Split into two parts, the first half focusses on filmmaking in Iceland prior to the founding of the Icelandic Film Fund in 1978, which was to establish a continuous local film production for the first time. Prior to that filmmaking in Iceland boiled down to the occasional efforts of local amateurs, albeit often quite skilled ones, and professional filmmakers visiting from abroad. Indeed, the few silent feature films made in the country all stemmed from foreign filmmakers adapting Icelandic literature and taking advantage of its photogenic landscapes. The first Icelandic feature was not made until 1948 and although immensely popular, like those that followed in its wake, the national audience was simply too small to sustain filmmaking without financial support. Although this changed fundamentally with the Icelandic Film Fund, which instigated contemporary Icelandic cinema and the subject of the essay’s second half, the Fund’s support proved insufficient as the novelty of Icelandic cinema began to wear off at the local box office in the late 1980s. The rescue came from outside sources, in the form of nordic and European film funds, whose support was to transnationalize Icelandic cinema in terms of not only financing and production but also themes and subject material. These changes are most apparent in Icelandic cinema of the 1990s which also began to garner interest at the international film festival circuit. In the first decade of the twenty first century, however, American genre cinema began to replace the European art film as the typical model for Icelandic filmmakers. Hollywood itself also began to show extensive interest in Icelandic landscapes for its runaway productions, as did many other foreign film crews. In this way Icelandic cinema is increasingly characterized by not only national and transnational elements but also international ones.

We propose a universal methodology for analyzing scripted films based on the “hero’s journey” structure defined by Joseph Campbell. This methodology helps in identifying new meanings in a dramatic work, regardless of the genre of the film. Eldar Ryazanov’s tragicomedy Watch Out For the Automobile (also known as Uncommon Thief in the United States) is a classic example of Campbell’s monomyph. According to Campbell, the hero’s journey consists of three acts: “departure,” “initiation,” and “return.” Each act consists of six stages, if we amend the “departure” act to include the “ordinary world” stage, described by Christopher Vogler in The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure For Writers. There exists a correspondence between the stages of the hero’s journey and the compositional structure of drama, which has been pointed out by a number of researchers (mainly American authors like Syd Field, Linda Seger, Christopher Vogler, etc.) We, however, will attempt to prove that comedy films can also be analyzed from the standpoint of Campbell’s “hero-adventure”. Eldar Ryazanov’s film Watch Out For the Automobile (1966) is centered around the character of Yuri Detochkin. The climax of every episode of the film is focused on Detochkin, just as the climax of every stage of the hero’s journey is associated with the hero of the myth. However, this is not the primary similarity. The character of Detochkin, portrayed by Innokenty Smoktunovsky, having passed through a series of trials, acquires integrity and becomes transformed. As in a monomyth, we are dealing with the character arc of a hero who has completed his journey, and has thus fulfilled his mission. In the spirit of “hero-adventure”, Campbell’s allegories help interpret a variety of dramatic situations. This is because, in essence, all of these situations are archetypes. It is very important, however, to define their placement in the structure of the story. Most often this happens spontaneously, by way of the artist’s intuition, but the structure proposed by Campbell helps approach the creative process more deliberately. The goal of this research was to demonstrate the congeniality of the two methods: the intuitive method used by the authors of the film Watch Out For the Automobile, and the rational method used by the author of the book The Hero with a Thousand Faces based on a vast collection of legends and myths. Our hypothesis was entirely confirmed: Eldar Ryazanov and Emil Braginsky were using the same artistic logic for guidance as their predecessor Joseph Campbell.

With the invention of moving pictures, the creators sought to supplement them with sound. Even before the invention of cinemat, E. Reynaud in the optical theatre gave performances in which moving images were combined with sound. It was pre-cinema experience, which represented the theatre model of audiovisual show. The attempts to synchronize the dynamic images and sound were taken by T. Edison, S. Meshes, L. Gaumont, O. Kellum, E.Tigerstedt, J. Engel, G. Phocht and J. Massol. However, the systems suggested by these inventors were not perfect. An important step towards creation of a sound film was the appearance of the optical sound recording system Phonofilm designed by Lee de Forest. In 1923, he became acquainted with Brothers Fleischer, outstanding American animators. Together with H. Riesenfeld and E. Fadiman they organized Red Seal Pictures Corporation and began to shoot Ko-Ko Song Car-Tunes, which consisted of a series of animated shots Sing-alongs (featuring the famous bouncing ball). It was a kind of multimedia shots, as there was no plot, no character and no narrative structure. They were created basing on popular songs, but did not illustrate them. The Sing-alongs shots were produced for the audience to sing their favorite songs before the session, while reading the text of the songs from the screen. The animated ball bouncing on the syllables helped them to follow the rhythm of the melody. These films became the prototype of the modern karaoke and music animated shows. The series were released from May 1924 till September 1927. The Fleshers created more than 45 shots, more than 19 of which using the Phonofilm. The first sound animated shots where the images were synchronized with the sound and recorded on the same media, were released in 1925. The film Come to Travel on My Airship was the first where the speech was heard, and in the shot My Old House in Kentucky the Fleischers managed to synchronize the speech with the facial expressions of cartoon characters as they were speaking. When the animating and shooting technology changed, the film structure underwent changes too. Detailed animation parts with the story content appeared. The text animation became variable as well. Since the 1930s, the shots have included scenes with singers and jazz-bands. The animated film series Ko-Ko Song Car-Tunes shot by the Brothers Fleischer established the principle of movement and sound synchronism in the animation. They not only out paced the sound films by P. Terry and W. Disney, which were considered to be the first sound animation films for a long time, but also proved that the sound animation had been possible and the thirty-year era of the silent animation came to an end.

In the 1920 s, the politically heterogeneous Ukrainian emigration community in inter-war Czechoslovakia, with its back in World War I and losing national liberation competitions, desperately needed both physical and spiritual rest. However, the status of «emigrants» transformed the imagination of the natives about leisure and leisure. The recreational regulator was, on the one hand, the scientific and technical implications of the 'stormy twenties' and, on the other, the urgent need to keep 'one's band', that is, a collective form of rest and leisure. Ukrainian exiles visited various theatrical performances, book exhibitions, music concerts, sections and circles, and enjoyed excursions. Slowly, with some nuances, cinema was also part of the Ukrainian emigration leisure. It should be noted that the Ukrainian emigration in the inter-war Czechoslovakia, because of the 1920 s «quick return concept» and the priority, first of all, of its own political projects, did not leave any jobs or references to film vacations. The Great Depression of the 1930 s and the Losses dismissed the issue of leisure in general and film recreation in particular, making it difficult to physically work to survive. Contemporary scientific intelligence on the impact and role of cinema in the life of the Ukrainian emigration community in the interwar CSR is absent because of the fact that despite the status of Prague as a powerful political, cultural and scientific emigration center, it has not become a leading European cinema center, yielding here Berlin. Only those edited by Doctor of Historical Sciences, Professor IB Matyash, the book «Diplomatic History of Ukraine by Yevgeny Slabchenko (Eugene Deslav)», relevant to the subject of our intelligence, and the article by Roman Roslyak «Ukrainfilm».Based on the above, the purpose of the publication is to argue that, despite some efforts by the Ukrainian emigration community in the interwar CSR, a powerful European film center in Prague, unlike Paris, Vienna, Berlin and New York, never. The Ukrainian emigration community in the Czechoslovak Republic numbered about 20-22 thousand people. In its social composition, it was mainly peasant workers, the layer of her intelligentsia was small. Thus, most Ukrainian immigrants either used the moment to seek education in order to further have a higher social status or to work hard without being able to study. First of all, the Ukrainians, as a national community in exile with a lack of sufficient financial base, even in the «scientifically technical twenties» and «economically unstable thirties», were forced to stand in conservative positions on leisure issues. The first «moving pictures» appeared on the territory of the Czech Republic in 1896 in Prague and Karlovy Vary, thanks to the director and cameraman Jan Krzyzyniecki, who, since the second half of the 1890s, made several short documentary films. And a year later, one of the private American film companies came to the Czech Republic to start filming a black and white silent film in Bohemia. Whereas the first permanent cinema on Czech lands was started by the illusionist Victor Ponrepo (1858–1926) in 1907 in Prague. The Czechoslovakian film industry gained considerable momentum during the interwar period. Since 1921 professional film studios have started. And by 1932, the championship was kept by black and white silent films. The soundtrack of films in the Czechoslovakia began in 1930. In addition, in 1930 Czechoslovak authorities imposed a ban on the import of any German-language films. Prohibition of German-language film production leads to the fact that in 1933, the Czech studio «Barrandov Studio», established by the brothers Vaclav and Milos Havel in 1921, is firmly on its feet, and the number of cinemas is counted in 1938. 1824. However, there were attempts to create a quality Ukrainian emigration film product and, accordingly, Ukrainian (emigration) film studios in the Czechoslovak Republic. These attempts were linked to the names of Boris Khoslovsky and Roman Mishkevich. Khoslovsky since 1926 the head of production of advertising departments of the firm «Vira Film». Since 1928 organizer and owner of the «Mercury Film» Studio, specializing in the production of promotional films. Another Ukrainian film studio, «Terra Film», originated in Brno in the early 1930s on the initiative of Roman Mishkevich. This film studio tried to shoot science and plot (situational-natural) films. Until 1939, Myshkevich's firm remained the largest importer of motion pictures from the Czech Republic to Japan, China, India and Central America. Yet, to develop a powerful Ukrainian film industry in the Czechoslovakia proved impossible. There were several reasons for this. First, political (emigrant status) and economic (lack of sustainable financial flows from the Czechoslovakia) were hampered. Secondly, the Ukrainian film industry did not have the support of both Ukrainian and Czech (private) businesses. Thirdly, the low potential of Ukrainian film enthusiasts and the lack of professional education and experience were evident. Fourth, the Ukrainian Prague film production consisted mainly of documentaries, short films, plot films, reports and chronicles.

An independent U.S.-Swiss co-production released by Lionsgate Films and Roadside Attractions, Maggie 2015 is marketed as apost-apocalyptic Horror drama and appears most obviously as azombie-apocalypse film. It soon becomes apparent, however, that Maggie differs markedly from other, more traditional zombie-apocalypse films. It blends recognizable elements from several mainstream genres and, though largely conforming to the well-known conventions of so-called classical realism, echoes some of the alternative narrative strategies traditionally associated with independent American and European cinemas. Although Maggie is rich with interpretive possibilities, this article shall touch on a less overt, some might even say fringe aspect of its narrative; namely, its engagement with a number of aspects of America’s frontier mythology. This might seem astrange connection to make at first since the frontier myth as apopular cultural referent is most often associated with the Hollywood Western, and the Western is clearly not Maggie’s most recognizable narrative schema. However, the myth’s association with the Western, while historically dominant, is far from exclusive and it would also be amistake to deny the myth’s links to other film genres through the related connections that exist between categories of films that, on the surface, seem to have little to do with one another. This is especially so in afilm as “genre confused” as Maggie.To be clear, this article does not claim Maggie to be a Western, at least not in any traditional sense that we might understand it. Rather, it interprets Maggie as apart of amore general trend in contemporary cinema typified by the hybridization of the codes and conventions of numerous genres and subgenres; especially, but not exclusively, those that bring an international perspective to bear on traditional genre categories. In the case of Maggie, this works to undermine audience expectations through aprocess of inversion and deconstruction that reconfigures the erstwhile familiarity of the zombie-apocalypse’s popular-cultural terrain. For, in referencing the Western and its related frontier mythology in the way that it does, Maggie demonstrates the adaptability and continued relevance of both in relation to the complex dynamics of contemporary global film genres. It is within this context that Maggie references the Western and, in so doing, highlights the continuing influence of frontier mythology in contemporary popular culture. PERSONALIZACJA APOKALIPSY — MITOLOGIA POGRANICZA I GATUNKOWA HYBRYDOWOŚĆ W FILMIE MAGGIE HENRY’EGO HOBSONANiezależna amerykańsko-szwajcarska produkcja zrealizowana przez Lionsgate Films i Roadside At­tractions — Maggie 2015 — jest reklamowana jako postapokaliptyczny horror, a jawi się w sposób najoczywistszy jako zombie-apokaliptyczny film. Wkrótce stanie się jednak oczywiste, że obraz ten różni się znacząco od innych, bardziej tradycyjnych zombie-apokaliptycznych obrazów. Łączy w so­bie rozpoznawalne elementy z wielu gatunków głównego nurtu kina i mimo że przeważnie opiera się na znanych konwencjach tak zwanego klasycznego realizmu, przywołuje pewne alternatywne strate­gie narracyjne, tradycyjnie identyfikowane z niezależnym amerykańskim i europejskim kinem. Mag­gie obfituje w liczne możliwości interpretacyjne, jednak niniejszy artykuł koncentruje się na mniej widocznym, można by nawet rzec marginalnym, aspekcie jego struktury. Mianowicie na obecności w nim kilku aspektów mitologii amerykańskiego Pogranicza. Na pierwszy rzut oka może się to wydać dziwnym odniesieniem, ponieważ mit pograniczny jako odwołanie w kulturze popularnej jest najczę­ściej kojarzony z hollywoodzkim westernem, a sam western nie jest też najbardziej rozpoznawalnym narracyjnym schematem filmu Hobsona. Jednakże skojarzenie mitu z westernem, historycznie domi­nujące, nie jest przecież wyłączne i byłoby również błędem odmawianie związków zmitem innym filmowym gatunkom przez ich pokrewieństwa, istniejące między kategoriami filmów, które na pozór wydają się mieć niewiele wspólnego. Jest tak szczególnie w przypadku utworu tak „gatunkowo mie­szanego” jak Maggie. Dla jasności — w artykule film ten nie jest definiowany jako western, przynajmniej nie w tradycyjny sposób rozumienia gatunku. Jest raczej interpretowany jako część bardziej ogólnego trendu we współczesnym kinie, naznaczonego hybrydyzacją kodów i konwencji wielu gatunków i podgatunków; zwłaszcza, choć nie wyłącznie, tych, które przynoszą międzynarodową perspektywę na podstawie tra­dycyjnych gatunkowych parametrów. W przypadku Maggie działa to tak, aby podważyć oczekiwania publiczności przez proces inwersji i dekonstrukcji, który przeformułowuje dotychczasową swojskość popkulturowego zombie-apokaliptycznego obszaru. Dlatego że odwołując się do westernu i ide­ologii Pogranicza w sposób, w jaki czyni to Maggie, film ten demonstruje zdolność adaptowa­nia się i trwającą ważność obu tych fenomenów w relacji do złożonej dynamiki współczesnych glo­balnych gatunków filmowych. To właśnie w tym kontekście Maggie przywołuje western i — czyniąc to — rzuca światło na trwający wpływ ideologii Pogranicza na współczesną popularną kulturę. Przeł. Kordian Bobowski

Although 2002 was a difficult year for most organizations, Disney Corporation has had it tougher than most. Share prices plummeted, films flopped (its updated version of Treasure Island was a box‐office disaster in the US) and the ability of Chairman and CEO Michael D. Eisner was seriously questioned. But it is the drama behind the scenes that is keeping corporate America enthralled at present. Although Disney directors are notorious in their unanimous silence as far as the media is concerned, one insider described the unrest between some board members as “a civilized war”. And not only is there tension within the corporation, but shareholder relations are also far from picture perfect.

Introduction In this paper, I examine the practices of representing Deaf ‘voices’’ to hearing audiences in two recent US television crime dramas. More literally I look at how American Sign Language is framed and made visible on the screen through various production decisions. Drawing examples from an episode of CSI: New York that aired in December 2006 and an episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent that aired in April 2007, I examine how the practices of filming Deaf people and the use of American Sign Language intersect with the production of a Deaf ‘voice’ on the screen. The problem of representing a Deaf ‘voice’ on the screen is akin to the problem of representing other minority languages. Film and television producers in the United States have to make choices about whether the majority audience of English speakers will have access to the minority language or not. In the face of this dilemma media producers have taken several approaches: subtitling foreign speech, translating foreign speech through other characters, or leaving the language inaccessible except to those who use it. The additional difficulty with representing national sign languages is that both the language and the recording medium are visual. Sometimes, filmmakers make the choice of leaving some portions of the signed dialogue inaccessible to a non-signing hearing audience. On the one hand this choice could indicate a devaluing of the signed communication, as its specific content is considered irrelevant to the plot. On the other hand it could indicate that Deaf people have a right to be visible on television using their own language without accommodating hearing people. A number of choices made in the filming and editing can subtly undermine positive representations of Deaf ‘voices’ particularly to a Deaf audience. These choices often construct an image of sign languages as objectified, exoticised, disjointed, incomplete, or a code for spoken language. Simple choices such as using simultaneous speaking and signing by Deaf characters, cropping the scene, translating or not translating the dialogue have powerful implications for the ways that Deaf ‘voices’ are becoming more visible in the 21st century. Typical filming and editing conventions effectively silence the Deaf ‘voice.’ Over 20 years ago, in the comprehensive book, Hollywood Speaks: Deafness and the Film Entertainment Industry (1988), Schuchman’s complaint that the filming and editing techniques of the day often did not attend to preserving the visibility and comprehensibility of sign language eon the screen, still applies today. As editing techniques have evolved over the years, fr om reliance on wide and medium shots to frequent intercutting of close-ups, the tendency to cut sign language off the screen, and out of the comprehensible view of the audience, may have even increased. Recent Portrayals of Deaf People on Television During one television season in the United States between August 2006 and April 2007, 30 episodes of six different serial television programs portrayed signing Deaf characters. Three of these programs had on-going Deaf characters that appeared in a number of episodes throughout the season, while three other programs portrayed Deaf people in a one-off episode with a Deaf theme. Initial air date for the season Program and Season # of Episodes 1 14 Aug. 2006 Weeds, Season 2 5 2 20 Sep. 2006 Jericho, Season 1 13 3 28 Jan. 2007 The L Word, Season 4 9 Table 1. Dramas with Ongoing Deaf Characters during the 2006-2007 USA Television Season Initial air date Program, Season, Episode Episode Title 1 13 Dec. 2006 CSI: New York, Season 3, Episode 12 “Silent Night” 2 3 Apr. 2007 Law and Order: Criminal Intent, Season 6, Episode 18 "Silencer" 3 12 Apr. 2007 Scrubs, Season 6, Episode 16 “My Words of Wisdom” Table 2. One-off Episodes with Signing Deaf Characters during the 2006-2007 USA Television Seasons Ironically, although the shows with ongoing characters sometimes allow the Deafness of the character to be incidental to the character, it is only the one-off crime dramas that show Deaf people relating with one another as members of a vibrant community and culture based in sign language. Often, in the ongoing series, the characters remain isolated from the Deaf community and their interactions with other Deaf people are sparse or non-existent. For example, out of the 27 episodes with an ongoing Deaf character only two episodes of The L-Word have more than one Deaf character portrayed. In both Weeds and The L-Word the Deaf character is the love interest of one of the hearing characters, while in Jericho, the Deaf character is the sister of one of the main hearing characters. In these episodes though some of realities about Deaf people’s lives are touched on as they relate to the hearing characters, the reality of signing Deaf people’s social lives in the Deaf community is left absent and they are depicted primarily interacting with hearing people. The two episodes, from CSI: New York, and Law and Order: Criminal Intent, focus on the controversial theme of cochlear implants in the Deaf community. Though it is true that generally the signing Deaf community in the U.S.A. sees cochlear implants as a threat to their community, there is no record of this controversy ever motivating violent criminal acts or murder as portrayed in these episodes. In the episode of CSI: New York entitled “Silent Night” a conflict between a young Deaf man and Deaf woman who were formerly romantically involved is portrayed. The murdered young woman who comes from a Deaf family does not want her Deaf baby to have a cochlear implant while the killer ex-boyfriend who has a cochlear implant believes that it is the best option for his child. The woman’s Deaf parents are involved in the investigation. The episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent, entitled “Silencer,” is also ultimately about a conflict between a Deaf man and a Deaf woman over cochlear implants. In the end, it is revealed that the Deaf woman is exploring the possibility of a cochlear implant. Her boyfriend projecting the past hurt of his hearing sister leaving him behind to go off and live her own life, doesn’t want his girlfriend to leave him once she gains more hearing. So he shoots the cochlear implant surgeon in the hand to prevent him from being able to perform the surgery. Then he accidentally kills him by crushing his voice box to prevent him from screaming. Analyzing Two Crime Dramas In both television dramas, the filmmakers use both sound and video editing techniques to mark the experiential difference between hearing and Deaf characters. In comparing the two dramas two techniques are evident : muting/distorting sounds and extreme close-ups on lips talking or hands signing. Though these techniques may heighten awareness of deaf experience to a non-signing audience they also point to a disabling stereotyping of the experience of being Deaf as lacking — framing their experience as hearing loss rather than Deaf gain (Bauman & Murray; Shakespeare 199). By objectifying sign language through extreme close ups American Sign Language is portrayed as something strange and unusual that separates Deaf signers from hearing speakers. The auditory silences can either jolt the hearing non-signer into awareness of the sensory aspect of sound that is missing or it can jolt them into awareness of the visual world that they often don’t really see. In the opening few scenes of the episodes both CSI: New York and Law and Order: Criminal Intent use sound editing alternately muting or distorting sounds as they cut between a ‘deaf’ auditory perspective and a ‘hearing’ perspective on the action as it unfolds. Even though the sound editing does play a part in the portrayal of Deaf people’s experience as lacking sound, the more important aspects of film production to attend to are the visual aspects where Deaf people are seen authentically signing in their own language. Scene Analysis Methodology In taking a closer look at a scene from each episode we can see exactly how the filming and editing techniques work to create an image of sign language. I have chosen comparable scenes where a Deaf individual is interviewed or interrogated by the police using a sign language interpreter. In each scene it can be assumed that all the communication is happening in both English and ASL through an interpreter, so at all times some signing should be occurring. In transcribing the scenes, I noted each point when the editor spliced different camera shots adjacent to each other. Because of the different visual aesthetics in each program where one relied heavily on continuous panning shots, I also noted where the camera shifted focus from one character to another marking the duration of screen time for each character. This allowed for a better comparison between the two programs. In my transcripts, I included both glosses of the ASL signs visible on the screen as well as the flow of the spoken English on the audio track. This enabled me to count how many separate shifts in character screen time segments contained signing and how much of these contained completely visible signing in medium shots. CSI:NY Witness Interview Scene In the first signing scene, Gina (played by Marlee Matlin) is brought in for an interview with Detective Taylor and a uniformed officer interpreter. The scene opens with a medium shot on Detective Taylor as he asks her, “What do you think woke you up?” The shot cuts to an extreme close up of her face and hands and pans to only the hands as she signs FOOTSTEPS. Then the scene shifts to an over the shoulder medium shot of the interpreter where we can still see her signing VIBRATIONS and it cuts to a close up of her face as she signs ALISON NOISE. Though these signs are cropped, they are still decipherable as they happen near the face. Throughout this sequence the interpreter voices “Footsteps, I felt vibrations. I thought maybe it was Alison.” Next we have a close-up on Detective Taylor’s face as he asks her why her family moved and whether she had family in the area. During his question the camera shifts to a close up reaction of Gina listening and then back to a close up on Taylor’s face, and then to a medium shot of the interpreter translating the last part of the question. Next, while Gina responds the camera quickly cuts from a medium shot to a close-up side view of the hands to a close-up bird’s eye view of the hands to a close up of Gina’s face with most of the signs outside of the frame. See the transcript below: [medium shot] NOT PLAN HAVE MORE CHILDREN,[close-up side view of hands] PREGNANT,[close-up from bird’s eye view] DECIDE RAISE ELIZABETH[close-up Gina’s face signs out of frame] SAFE While this sequence plays out the interpreter voices, “My husband and I weren’t planning on having any more children. When I got pregnant my husband and I decided to raise Elizabeth outside of the city where it’s safe.” The kind of quick cuts between close-ups, medium shots and reaction shots of other characters sets the visual aesthetic for this episode of CSI: NY. In this particular clip, the camera shifts shot angles no less than 50 times in the space of one minute and 34 seconds. Yet there are only 12 conversational turns back and forth between the two characters. This makes for a number of intercut reaction shots, interpreter shots as well as close-ups and other angles on the same character. If only counting shifts in screen time on a particular character, there are still 37 shifts in focus between different characters during the scene. Out of the 22 shots that contain some element of signing — we only see a medium shot with all of the signing space visible 4 times for approximately 2 seconds each. Even though signing is occurring during every communication via the interpreter or Gina, less than half of the shots contain signs and 18 of these are close ups from various angles. The close ups in this clip varied from close-ups on the face, which cut out part of the signs, to close ups on the hands caught in different perspectives from a front, side, top or even table top reflected upside-down view. Some of the other shots were over the back shoulder of Gina catching a rear view of the signs as the camera is aimed in a medium shot of the detective and interpreter. The overall result from a signing perspective is a disjointed jumble of signs leaving the impression of chaos and heightened emotion. In some ways this can be seen as an exoticisation of the signs making them look surreal, drawing attention to the body parts displaying the signs and objectifying them. Such objectification may seem harmless to a non-signing hearing audience or media producer as a mere materializing of the felt amazement at signed communication moving at such a pace. But if we were to propose a hypothetical parallel situation where a Korean character is speaking in her native tongue and we are shown extreme close ups and quick cuts jumping from an image of the lips moving to the tongue tapping the teeth to a side close up of the mouth to an overhead image from the top of the head – this type of portrayal would immediately be felt to be a de-humanization of Korean people and likely labeled racist. In the case of sign language, is it merely thought of as visual artistry? Law & Order: Suspect Interrogation Scene Law & Order: Criminal Intent has a different film aesthetic. The scene selected is an interview with a potential suspect in the murder of a cochlear implant surgeon. The Deaf man, Larry is an activist and playwright. He is sitting at a table with his lawyer across from the male detective, Goren, and the interpreter with the female detective, Eames, standing to the side. Unlike the CSI: NY scene there are no quick cuts between shots. Instead the camera takes longer shots panning around the table. Even when there are cuts to slightly different angles, the camera continues to pan in the same direction as the previous shot giving the illusion that almost the entire scene is one shot. In this 45-second scene, there are only five cuts to different camera angles. However, the act of panning the camera around the room even in a continuous shot serves to break up the scene further as the camera pulls focus zooming in on different characters while it pans. For the purposes of this analysis, in addition to dividing the scene at shifts in camera angles performed through editing, I also divide the scenes at shifts in camera angles focusing on different characters. As the camera moves to focus on a different interlocutor (serving the same purpose as a shift done through editing), this brings the total shifts in camera angles to ten. At several points throughout this Law & Order: CI episode, the cinematographer uses the technique of zooming into an extreme close-up on the hands and then pulling out to see the signer. But in this particular scene all of the visible signed sequences are filmed in medium shots. While this is positive because we can actually see the whole message including hand and face, the act of panning behind the backs of seated characters while Larry is signing blocks some of his message just as much as shifting the edit to a reaction shot would do. Of the ten shots, only one shot does not contain any signing: when Detective Eames reacts to Larry’s demands and incredulously says, “A Deaf cop?” While all of the other shots contain some signing, there are only two signed interchanges that are not interrupted by some sort of body block. Ironically, both of these shots are when the hearing detective is speaking. The first is the opening shot. The camera, in a wide shot on 5 characters, opens on their reflections in the mirrored window located in the interview room. As the camera pulls back into the room, it spins around and pans across Detective Eames’ face to settle on Detective Goran. While Goran begins talking the shot widens out to include the interpreter sitting next to him and catch the signed translation. Goran says, “Larry? There’s a lot of people pointing their finger at you.” With a bit of lag time the interpreter signs: A-LOT PEOPLE THINK YOU GUILTY. Overall Comparison of the Two Scenes For both scenes there were only four segments with unobstructed medium shots of signers in the act of signing. In the case of Law & Order: CI this might be considered a good showing as there were only nine segments in the entire scene and 8 contained signing. Thus potentially yielding 50% visibility of the signs during the entire stream of the conversation (however not all signs were actually fully visible). In the case of CSI: NY, with its higher ratio of segments split by different camera shots, 22 segments contained signing, yielding a ratio of 18% visibility of signs. Though this analysis is limited to only one scene for comparison it does reveal that both episodes prioritize the spoken language stream of information over the sign language stream of information. CSI: New York Law & Order: CI Time duration of the clip 1 min 34 sec 45 sec # shifts in character conversational turns 12 times 10 times # edited camera shots to different angle 50 5 #shifts in screen time of the characters (edited or panned) 37 9 Total # screen time segments with signing 22 8 # medium shot segments with signing fully visible 4 4 # segments containing close ups of signs, cropped off signs or blocked 18 4 Table 3. Count comparison between the two scenes Filmmakers come from a hearing framework of film production where language equals sound on an audio track. Within that framework sound editing is separate from video editing and can provide continuity between disjointed visual shots. But this kind of reliance on sound to provide the linguistic continuity fails when confronted with representing American Sign Language on the screen. The sound stream of translated English words may provide continuity for the hearing audience, but if left to rely on what is available in the visual modality Deaf viewers may have to rely on closed captioning to understand the dialog even when it is portrayed in their own language. Disjointed scenes showing quick cuts between different angles on a signed dialog and flashing between reacting interlocutors leaves the signing audience with a view on a silenced protagonist. Recommendations How can media producers give voice to sign language on the screen? First there needs to be an awareness and concern amongst these same media producers that there is actually value in taking the care required to make sign language visible and accessible to the signing Deaf audience and perhaps raise more awareness among the non-signing hearing audience. It may be entirely possible to maintain a similar visual aesthetic to the programs and still make sign language visible. Hearing producers could learn from Deaf cinema and the techniques being developed there by emerging Deaf film producers (Christie, Durr, and Wilkins). In both examples used above careful planning and choreography of the filming and editing of the scenes would make this possible. With the quick cutting style of frequent close up shots found in CSI: NY, it would be necessary to reduce the number of close ups or make sure they were wide enough to include enough of the signs to maintain intelligibility as with signs that are made near the face. In addition, medium shots of the interpreter or the interpreter and the hearing speaker would have to become the norm in order to make the interpreted spoken language accessible as well. Over the shoulder shots of signers are possible as well, as long as the back of the signer does not obscure understanding of the signs. In order to avoid objectification of sign language, extreme close-ups of the hands should be avoided as it de-humanizes sign languages and reduces language to animalistic hand gestures. In addition, with adopting the visual aesthetic of panning continuous shots such as those found in Law and Order: CI, care would need to be taken not to obstruct the signs while circling behind other participants. Other possibilities remain such as adapting the visual aesthetic of 24 (another United States crime drama) where multiple shots taking place simultaneously are projected onto the screen. In this manner reaction shots and full shots of the signing can both be visible simultaneously. Aside from careful choreography, as suggested in previous work by scholars of Deaf cinema, (Schuchman, Hollywood; Jane Norman qtd. in Hartzell), hearing media producers would need to rely on excellent ASL/Deaf culture informants during all stages of the production; typically, cinematographers, directors and editors likely will not know how to make sure that signs are not obscured. Simultaneous signing and talking by Deaf and hearing characters should be avoided as this method of communication only confirms in the minds of hearing signers that sign language is merely a code for spoken language and not a language in and of itself. Instead, hearing media producers can more creatively rely on interpreters in mixed settings or subtitling when conversations occur between Deaf characters. Subtitling is already a marker for foreign language and may alert non-signing hearing audiences to the fact that sign language is a full language not merely a code for English. Using these kinds of techniques as a matter of policy when filming signing Deaf people will enable the signing voice some of the visibility that the Deaf community desires. Acknowledgements This article is based on work originally presented at the conference “Deaf Studies Today!”, April 2008, at Utah Valley State University in Orem, Utah, USA. I am grateful for feedback that I received from participants at this presentation. An earlier version of this article is published as part of the conference proceedings Deaf Studies Today! Mosaic edited by Brian K. Eldredge, Flavia Fleischer, and Douglas Stringham. References Bauman, H-Dirksen, and Joseph Murray. "Reframing from Hearing Loss to Deaf Gain." Deaf Studies Digital Journal (Fall 2009). < http://dsdj.gallaudet.edu/ >. Chaiken, Ilene (writer). The L Word. Television series. Season 4. 2007. Chbosky, S., J. Schaer, and J.E. Steinbert (creators) Jericho. Television series. Season 1 & 2. 2006-2007. Christie, Karen, Patti Durr, and Dorothy M. Wilkins. “CLOSE-UP: Contemporary Deaf Filmmakers.” Deaf Studies Today 2 (2006): 91-104. Hartzell, Adam. “The Deaf Film Festival.” The Film Journal (May 2003) < http://www.thefilmjournal.com/issue5/deaf.html >. Kohan, J. (creator), M. Burley (producer). Weeds. Television series. Lawrence, B. (creator), V. Nelli Jr. (director). “My Words of Wisdom.” Scrubs. Television series episode. Season 6, Episode 16. 12 Apr. 2007. Lenkov, P. M., and S. Humphrey (writers), A.E. Zulker (story), and R. Bailey (director). “Silent Night.” CSI: New York. Television series episode. Season 3, episode 12. CBS, 13 Dec. 2006. O'Shea, M. (writer), D. White (director), M.R. Thewlis (producer). "Silencer." Law and Order Criminal Intent. Television series episode. Season 6, Episode 18. New York: Universal, 3 April 2007. Schuchman, John. S. Hollywood Speaks: Deafness and the Entertainment Industry. 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