ILUMINACE
Časopis pro teorii, historii
a estetiku filmu
The Journal of Film Theory, History,
and Aesthetics
1
/ 2015
Ročník / Volume 27
TÉMA / MAIN TOPIC:
AMERICAN CINEMA AND YOUTH: NEW GLOBAL HISTORIES
Guest Editor:
Richard Nowell
OBSAH
Editorial .......................................................................................................................................................... 5
Články k tématu
Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents.
East Harlem Youth and the Movies, 1931–1934................................................................................. 9
Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus. Hollywood, Starlets,
and the Czech Star System of the early-to-mid 1930s ..................................................................... 29
Jindřiška Bláhová — Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”. Czechoslovak Communists, Late Cold War
Cultural Policy, and Youth-oriented American Films .................................................................... 43
Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?” Traditional Media Targets
the Digital Youth Generation .............................................................................................................. 63
Rozhovory
Richard Nowell: Developing a Research Program in Youth Cinema Studies
and Revising Generation Multiplex. An Interview with Timothy Shary ....................................... 77
Richard Nowell: American Teen Film: Something more Slippery than it used to be.
An Interview with Catherine Driscoll ............................................................................................... 85
Ad fontes
Jiří Kutil: Filmový umělecký sbor (1946–1948) .............................................................................. 93
Marcela Týfová: Archivní pomůcky oddělení písemných archiválií NFA on-line ..................... 95
Obzor
Anna Batori: Addressing the Russian Other (Ewa Mazierska — Lars Kristensen —
Eva Näripea (eds.), Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European Cinema:
Portraying Neighbours on Screen) ....................................................................................................... 97
Mária Ferenčuhová: Krátky český ilm 30. až 50. rokov v piatich hlbokých nádychoch
(Lucie Česálková, Atomy věčnosti. Český krátký ilm 30. až 50. let) ..............................................102
Jiří Horníček: Amatérský ilm v zemích východního bloku
(Konference Inédits v Praze, 30. října až 1. listopadu 2014) ...........................................................106
Projekt
Václav Krůček: Rezonance ilmové stáze ........................................................................................109
Příloha
Přírůstky Knihovny NFA...................................................................................................................120
CONTENTS
Editorial .......................................................................................................................................................... 5
hemed Articles
Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents.
East Harlem Youth and the Movies, 1931–1934................................................................................. 9
Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus. Hollywood, Starlets,
and the Czech Star System of the early-to-mid 1930s ..................................................................... 29
Jindřiška Bláhová — Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”. Czechoslovak Communists, Late Cold War
Cultural Policy, and Youth-oriented American Films .................................................................... 43
Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?” Traditional Media Targets
the Digital Youth Generation .............................................................................................................. 63
Interviews
Richard Nowell: Developing a Research Program in Youth Cinema Studies
and Revising Generation Multiplex. An Interview with Timothy Shary ....................................... 77
Richard Nowell: American Teen Film: Something more Slippery than it used to be.
An Interview with Catherine Driscoll ............................................................................................... 85
Ad fontes
Jiří Kutil: Film Artistic Committee (1946–1948) ............................................................................ 93
Marcela Týfová: Archival Tools of NFA’s Special Collections Department On-line .................. 95
Horizon
Anna Batori: Addressing the Russian Other (Ewa Mazierska — Lars Kristensen —
Eva Näripea (eds.), Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European Cinema:
Portraying Neighbours on Screen) ....................................................................................................... 97
Mária Ferenčuhová: Czech Short Film of the 1930s–1950s in Five Deep Breaths
(Lucie Česálková, Atomy věčnosti. Český krátký ilm 30. až 50. let) ..............................................102
Jiří Horníček: Amateur Film in the Countries of the Eastern Block
(Inédits Conference Prague, 30th October — 1st November 2014) ................................................106
Project
Václav Krůček: Resonation of Film Stasis ......................................................................................109
Appendix
Recent Acquisitions of the NFA Library .........................................................................................120
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American Cinema and Youth:
New Global Histories
Scholarship on American cinema and youth is dominated by examinations of Hollywood
teen ilms that relate depictions of young Americans to social, psychological, and/or industrial currents running through the United States. Broadening our understandings of
this important and complex media-audience relationship is both a salient and timely endeavor, not least because such fare has consistently occupied a preeminent position in audiovisual cultures across the globe, and because their numbers, loyalty, and supposed vulnerability have made young movie-watchers — American or otherwise — a point of
interest for producers, marketers, politicians, watchdogs, and other claims-makers. he
themed content of this English-language issue of Iluminace aims to do just that by spotlighting the transnational dimensions of this relationship, by foregrounding its transmedia dimensions, and by revising our understandings of well known topics and ilms. It is
comprised of four original essays, which can be seen as answering such calls insofar as
they respond to the broader impulses driving them, and two interviews with leading
scholars in the ield relecting on this important aspect of global audiovisual culture.
he irst of themed essays is a revisionist reception study in which Lisa M. Rabin reopens the casebook on a series of studies conducted in the 1930s into the implications of
young people’s consumption of motion pictures in New York City. Researchers initially
proposed these youths’ testimonies were evidence of their pathological relationships to
the movies. However, Rabin suggests these data actually reveal a more nuanced picture,
one in which movie-going and content in fact helped Italian and Puerto Rican youths negotiate personal identity and human interactions in this economically and socially challenging environment.
If Rabin’s essay considers transnational dimensions of studies of American cinema and
youth while maintaining a focus on the United States, the second essay provides a casestudy of the cross border low of a talismanic embodiment of American cinema and youth:
the starlet. In her contribution, Šárka Gmiterková examines how images of young
Hollywood actresses were taken up in two key media sectors of 1930s Czechoslovakia. he
country’s leading ilm magazine, she argues, utilized these alluring and otherworldly ig-
6
American Cinema and Youth: New Global Histories
ures as a means of imagining local equivalents and of securing female readers on the
promise that they too could break into the movies. Moreover, a major ilm production
company saw in Hollywood starlets a potentially replicable model of talent acquisition
and development that would help increase the appeal of its output; a leeting practice
which ultimately proved to be rather ill-suited to the dynamics of this small national
market.
he third essay, co-written by Jindřiška Bláhová and myself, also approaches the relationships between American cinema, youth, and Czechoslovakia, albeit from a quite different perspective to that of the previous contribution. We consider the diferent ways this
nation’s communist-controlled ilm company appropriated youth-oriented American imports in the 1970s and 1980s, and framed them for local audiences in a manner derived
from changing cultural policies. We try to make the case that these ilms were used in four
historically situated ways: to blame student unrest on lax parenting, to demonize American
capitalist democracy, to undermine subversive indigenous youth subcultures, and to
suggest the liberalization of the cultural sphere. In so doing, this essay — not unlike
Gmiterková’s — illustrates that some overseas elites embraced youth-oriented dimensions
of American cinema rather than only voicing concerns about them.
Whereas the movement of ilm and ilm-related phenomena across diferent texts and
channels is central to the three preceding contributions, transmediality is the principal
concern of the fourth and inal essay. Valerie Wee’s contribution brings the historical perspective of this issue very much up to date with an examination of the handling of the
Glee franchise, especially the 2011spinof Glee the 3D Concert Movie. Wee considers
the industrial dynamics and moral implications of industry stakeholders encouraging
young fans to contribute their creative labor to the production, content, and promotion of
this property through various online activities marshaled around a competition inviting fans
to pronounce themselves the world’s “biggest Gleek”. In so doing, she highlights a media
conglomerate’s eforts to capitalize on the Gen-Z consumer-producer or “produser”.
hese four themed essays are followed by the aforementioned interviews I conducted
with two world leading authorities on American cinema and youth.
It is at this point that I would like to stress that the point of this issue is not to dismiss
or downplay the type of work highlighted in the opening paragraph: much of it still needs
to be done ater all. Rather, it is to suggest that new work in this vein might be complemented with additional approaches which develop our insights into American cinema
and youth. Accordingly, the irst of the interviews was conducted with a scholar whose
work in this vein is routinely cited to enable others — including myself, I should make
clear — to spotlight their intended contributions to the ield: Timothy Shary. Shary considers the processes of writing and subsequently revising and updating his seminal study
of American youth-centered ilms of the late twenty irst century, Generation Multiplex, so
as to respond to subsequent developments in this sphere of cultural production and in
scholarship examining it.
he themed content of this issue concludes with an interview I conducted with
Catherine Driscoll. As well as providing insights into her longstanding research into the
topic, Driscoll posits in some detail the value of work which approaches American youth
cinema as an international and a multimedia phenomenon; scholarship considering the
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transnational dimensions of such fare and its status as a node in the networks of objects
and texts traversing audiovisual cultures past, present, and future.
With inward-looking studies of American cinema and youth far from exhaustive, and
with the international and transmedia dimensions of this topic only just being systematically explored, much work still needs to be done on this most important of media-audience relationships. While its limited scope means a volume such as this can only make the
most leeting of gestures towards broadening our understanding of the topic, it does so in
the hope of inspiring other scholars to work — or to continue working — along similar
lines.
RN
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Lisa M. Rabin
The Normals, the Questionables,
and the Delinquents
East Harlem Youth and the Movies, 1931–1934
In the working-class, largely Italian and Puerto Rican neighborhood of East Harlem, New
York City, the best attended ilms of the late 1920s and early 1930s included Underworld
(1927), Alias Jimmy Valentine (1928), All Quiet on the Western Front, (1930),
Cimarron, Little Caesar, Skippy, Up for Murder (all 1931), and Taxi! (1932).1) East
Harlem teenagers were among the most avid consumers of these ilms and others like
them screened at East Harlem’s 16 movie theaters.2) Sometimes they skipped school or
louted their parents’ disapproval to see them, and sometimes they acted them out on city
streets, oten causing adults to worry about the efects the movies might have been having
on their upbringing. One East Harlem parent, for example, testiied that “in the moving
pictures they learn all bad things”.3) Similarly, New York City police commissioner William
Mulrooney asserted that the city’s second-generation immigrant youth “learned twisted
things from the movies”.4)
At this time, the anxieties that parents and the police harbored about working-class
immigrant teenagers and the movies were not limited to New York City. hey were spread
throughout the nation, and were entrenched in larger discourses connecting movies to delinquency. As ilm historians have pointed out, sociological interest in the urban immigrant child and his/her relationship to movies and other forms of commercialized leisure
1) Paul Cressey, ‘he community — a social setting for the motion picture’ (unpublished manuscript, 1932),
Hoover Institution on War, Revolution and Peace, Motion Picture Research Council, 162, reprinted in Garth
Jowett, Ian Jarvie, and Kathleen Fuller, Children and the Movies: Media Inluence and the Payne Fund
Controversy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 72. Further citations of Cressey’s document
in this essay are all from the original manuscript.
2) Frederic hrasher, ‘Final report on the Jeferson Park branch of the Boys’ Club of New York’, 1935, he
Bureau of Social Hygiene Project and Research Files (1911–1940), a Collection of the Rockefeller Archive
Center of the Rockefeller University, North Tarrytown, New York, Series 3.3, Boxes 11, 12, and 13, p. 232.
3) ‘Interview by Boys’ Club study staf member with resident of East Harlem’, quoted in hrasher, ‘Final Report’,
p. 303.
4) S.J. Woolf, ‘Mulrooney talks of youth and crime: the police commissioner says the number of youngsters in
the line-up shows the city to be in a bad way’, New York Times, 15 March 1931, p. 83.
10
Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
intensiied in the 1920s and 1930s.5) his close scrutiny of working-class youth was conditioned by the Progressive-Era truism that mass culture — and particularly movie-going
and ilm consumption — was in competition with settlement houses, social service agencies, and public schools in their socialization of youth.6) Such a position posited that movies ofered too much of an unregulated environment, which threatened to foster antisocial
behaviors such as violence, sexual wantonness, and criminality.7)
East Harlem teenagers lived in what sociologists deemed an “interstitial” neighborhood
— “a kind of urban frontier”,8) where the lack of an infrastructure was thought to make
these young people particularly vulnerable to the inluences of mass culture. As such, they
would become the subjects of three sociological studies on the subject of movies and youth,
all of which were conducted in the neighborhood in the late 1920s and early 1930s. he irst
of these studies was the New York University Motion Picture Study (MPS), which the sociologist Paul Cressey conducted on the movie-going activities of 2400 teenage boys, and which
was originally expected to become a part of the Payne Fund Studies (PFS).9) Meanwhile,
640 teenage girls from East Harlem participated in a study on female youth leisure activities undertaken by the Columbia University educational sociology student Dorothy Reed.10)
In a third study, the National Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA) surveyed
1,045 East Harlem girls on their movie-going habits and other leisure activities.11) hese
studies generated a wealth of documentation, including Reed’s dissertation, the YWCA
5) Lea Jacobs, ‘Reformers and spectators: the ilm education movement in the thirties’, Camera Obscura 22
(1990), pp. 29–49; Richard deCordova, ‘Ethnography and exhibition: the child audience, the Hays Oice and
Saturday matinees’, Camera Obscura 23 (1990), pp. 90–107; Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the
Movies, pp. 24–29; Dana Polan, Scenes of Instruction: he Beginnings of the U.S. Study of Film (Berkeley & Los
Angeles: University of California Press, 2007), pp. 335–338; Lee Grieveson, ‘Cinema studies and the conduct
of conduct’, in Haidee Wasson and Lee Grieveson (eds), Inventing Film Studies (Durham and London: Duke
University Press, 2008), pp. 3–37; Mark Lynn Anderson, ‘Taking Liberties’, in Wasson and Grieveson (eds),
Inventing Film Studies, pp. 38–65; Mark Lynn Anderson, Twilight of the Idols: Hollywood and the Human
Sciences in 1920s America (Berkeley. Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2011), pp. 12,
68–69, 171–174.
6) Sarah Chinn, Inventing Modern Adolescence (Rutgers, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 2005), pp. 77–102.
7) Polan, Scenes, pp. 335–338; Grieveson, ‘Cinema studies’, p. 22; Anderson, ‘Taking liberties’, pp. 38–65;
Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 171–174.
8) Frederic hrasher, he gang: a study of 1,313 gangs in Chicago (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1927),
p. 22; Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 62; Anderson, ‘Taking Liberties’, pp. 41–42.
9) he Payne Fund Studies was a series of twelve social science projects researching the efects of the movies on
children that were conducted across the country from 1929–1932. he series was underwritten by the private foundation he Payne Fund, and was overseen by W.W. Charters at Ohio State University. Well-known
academics including educationalist Edgar Dale, sociologist Herbert Blumer, and the psychologists Frank
Shuttleworth and Mark May directed other projects in the series. he projects covered a range of movie inluences on children including knowledge acquisition, social attitudes, sleep, and behavior. Cressey used the
MPS as material for his dissertation ‘he Social Role of Motion Pictures in an Interstitial Area’ at NYU, but
he never completed the East Harlem project for the Payne Fund and apparently never submitted his dissertation. Meanwhile, MacMillan published nine volumes and a summary of the Studies between 1933 and
1935. For an overview of the series and its historical signiicance for mass media studies see Jowett, Jarvie,
and Fuller, Children, 30, 17–124.
10) Dorothy Reed, ‘Leisure time of girls in a “Little Italy”’ (Dissertation: Columbia University, 1932).
11) ‘Report of the East Harlem Study, submitted by the Industrial Secretary of the City of New York Y.W.C.A,
December 1928, YWCA of the USA Records, 1876–1970, Microform reel #196, ‘Local associations in New
York City’, call #689.
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national records, and the manuscript collection of Leonard Covello, who was the principal
at the Benjamin Franklin High School that was attended by many of Cressey’s male subjects.
A close analysis of these studies reveals richly textured testimonies that the East
Harlem teenagers provided on their movie-going activities, as well as on their engagement
with ilms and ilm-related phenomena like stars.12) Existing scholarship on both the MPS
and similar studies conducted at this time has tended to focus on the sociologists’ discursive construction of the teenagemoviegoer and its imbrications within larger structures of
power and knowledge.13) My research indicates that the documents produced on East
Harlem youth also ofer an opportunity to historicize youth ilm reception. Accordingly,
this essay ofers a case study of teenage ilm audiences in the working-class immigrant
community of East Harlem in the late 1920s and early 1930s. I situate my work within an
expanding historiography of ilm audiences that approaches reception as a form of social
history, and which in so doing considers movie-going and ilm culture to represent a signiicant way in which individuals and groups perform and crat social identities. To date,
scholars have tended to centralize the ilm text when researching historical audiences.
However, as Richard Maltby has pointed out, such an approach risks using individual
movies “as proxies for the missing historical audience”.14)
Alternate approaches, such as that employed here, ground their analysis on examinations of both primary and secondary sources.15) his essay therefore draws upon documents related to the three East Harlem studies, upon newspapers and academic journals,
and makes use of secondary sources on US immigrant history in order to analyze the social role that cinema played in the lives of East Harlem youth. Because it focuses on the
historical speciicity of East Harlem teenagers, the essay also contributes to understandings of the valence of class, race, ethnicity, gender, and/or intergroup relations in the historical formation of youth identity.16) In particular, it develops current understandings of
12) I am grateful to Dana Polan for providing me with this insight.
13) I am grateful to Christina Petersen and Laura Isabel Serna for helping me with this insight. See for example
deCordova, ‘Ethnography’; Jacobs, ‘Reformers’; Sharon Lowery and Melvin Lawrence Deleur, Milestones in
Mass Communications Research (New York: Longman, 1994), pp. 31–54;; Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children;
Polan, Scenes of instruction, pp. 335–338; William J. Buxton, ‘From park to Cressey: Chicago sociology’s engagement with mass culture’, in David W. Park and Jef Pooley (eds), he History of Media and Communication
Research: Contested Memories (New York: Peter Lang, 2008), pp. 345–362; Grieveson, ‘Cinema studies’;
Anderson, ‘Taking liberties’; Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 12, 68–69, 171–174; Christina Petersen, he
crowd mind: the archival legacy of the Payne Fund Studies’ Mediascape 2013 (Winter). Movies and Conduct
(1933), <http://www.tt.ucla.edu/mediascape/Winter2013_CrowdMind.html> [accessed 18 November
2014].
14) Richard Maltby, ‘New cinema histories’, in Richard Maltby, Daniel Biltereyst, and Philippe Meers (eds),
Explorations in New Cinema History: Approaches and Case Studies (Malden, MA & Oxford: Blackwell, 2011),
p. 12.
15) For useful overviews of this approach see Philippe Meers and Daniel Biltereyst, ‘Film audiences in perspective: the social practices of ilm going’, in Helena Bilandzic, Geofroy Patriarche, and Paul J. Traudt (eds), he
Social Use of Media: Cultural and Social Scientiic Perspectives on Audience Research (Bristol: Intellect, 2012),
pp. 120–140; Maltby, ‘New cinema histories’, pp. 3–40; Eric Smoodin, ‘Introduction: the history of ilm history’, in Jon Lewis and Eric Smoodin (eds), Looking Past the Screen (Durham & London: Duke University
Press, 2007), pp. 1–34.
16) As Andrew Diamond points out, the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies projects on “youth subcultures” were seminal to the development of this ield. See for example Stuart Hall and Tony Jeferson (eds),
12
Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
the roles that the mass media played in the emergent youth cultures of the early twentieth
century.17) I show that cinema played an important role in East Harlem teenagers’ psychological development, serving as a springboard from which teenagers could “try on” or
“play with” new subjectivities. We know from developmental psychologists and anthropologists that ictional worlds are used throughout life to cope with increased complexity,
and to imagine alternative outcomes. With these points in mind, this essay considers how
the psychological investments of East Harlem youth in late 1920’s and early 1930’s cinema
are situated both historically and culturally.
The East Harlem Studies
In 1929, the year in which the MPS began, East Harlem was bounded by 98th and 99th
streets on the south, 126th Street and the Harlem River on the north, Fith Avenue on the
West and the Harlem and East Rivers on the east. Twenty blocks in length and six avenues
wide, this urban neighborhood, which is now known as Spanish Harlem and populated
mostly by Latin@s, was then mainly home to Italian immigrants and their children. In the
1920s and 1930s, up to 90,000 Italian immigrants lived there, constituting the largest
Italian American area of the day.18) A smaller although not insigniicant number of Puerto
Rican immigrants also lived in the western area of the neighborhood. By the 1940s, they
had superseded Italians as the largest ethnic enclave in this part of the city.19) According to
a 1930 survey conducted by the Casa Italiana Educational Bureau, small numbers of
African Americans, Jews, Germans, Finns, Scandinavians, and Slavs were also resident in
the area.20)
17)
18)
19)
20)
Resistance through Rituals: Youth Subcultures in Postwar Britain (London: Harper Collins Academic, 1976);
Paul Willis, Learning to Labor: How Working Class Kids Get Working Class Jobs (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1977); Dick Hebdige, Subculture: he Meaning of Style (London: Routledge, 1979). Andrew
Diamond, Mean Streets: Chicago Youths and the Everyday Struggle for Empowerment in the Multiracial City,
1908–1969 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009), pp. 5, 316 n. 12. I am indebted in particular to
US histories of working-class youth culture, including Joseph Kett, Rites of Passage: Adolescence in America
1790 to the Present (New York: Harper Collins, 1978); Kathy Peiss, Cheap Amusements: Working Women and
Leisure in Turn-of-the-Century New York (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986); Ruth Alexander,
he “Girl Problem”: Female Sexual Delinquency in New York, 1900–1930 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1995); Grace Palladino, Teenagers (New York: Harper Collins, 1996); Joel Austin and Michael Willard (eds)
Generations of Youth: Youth Cultures and History in Twentieth-Century America (New York: New York UP, 1998);
Randy McBee, Dance Hall Days: Intimacy and Leisure Among Working-Class Immigrants in the United States
(New York: New York University Press, 2001); Chinn, Inventing Modern Adolescence; Kelly Schrum, Some
Wore Bobby Sox (London: Palgrave McMillan, 2005); Mark Wild, ‘So many children at once and so many
kinds: the world of center city children’, in Street Meeting: Multiethnic Neighborhoods in Early TwentiethCentury Los Angeles (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), pp. 94–120; Diamond, Mean Street.
See Kett, Rites of Passage, Palladino, Teenagers; Chinn, Inventing Modern Adolescence; Chinn, Schrum, Some
Wore Bobby Sox; Wild, ‘So many children’.
Simone Cinotto, ‘Leonard Covello, the Covello papers, and the history of eating habits among Italian immigrants in New York’, Journal of American History, vol. 91, no. 2 (2002), p. 1.
Virginia Sánchez Korroll, From Colonia to Community: he History of Puerto Ricans in New York City
(Berkeley & Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1994), 58–62; Richard T. Schaefer, Encyclopedia of
Race and Ethnicity, Volume I (housand Oaks, London, New Delhi, Singapore: Sage, 2008), pp. 429–430.
Casa Italiana Educational Bureau, ‘East Harlem population by nationality, nativity, and color — 1930’,
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Figure 1. Youth at the New Progress heatre, 1892 hird
Avenue (106th Street), East Harlem
In the 1930s, East Harlem was one of the poorest areas of New York City. Apartments
were cramped, oten lacking central heating and baths, and public spaces were few and far
between.21) East Harlem’s lack of a signiicant economic infrastructure resulted in eighty
percent of neighborhood workers commuting.22) he Great Depression hit this community particularly hard. In 1930 and 1931, 45 percent of adults were out of work, and 28 percent of residents had relief jobs.23) Many East Harlem youths were, however, employed.
Around 28 percent of the girls interviewed in Reed’s study held jobs, with almost 11 percent of these positions part-time jobs the girls worked ater school.24) A study conducted
by sociologist Frederic hrasher and a team of NYU sociologists revealed that of the
96 percent of boys who were in work, almost twenty ive percent held full-time positions.25)
To address a lack of public space for play, and to encourage “wholesome” activities
among the neighborhood’s male youths, the Boys’ Club established a Jeferson Park Branch
in East Harlem in 1927. Consequently, between 1928 and 1934, hrasher and his collaborators, who were funded by the Rockefeller Foundation’s Bureau of Social Hygiene, conducted a major study of the Boys’ Club’s role in preventing delinquency.26) Ater researching the behavior of 11,190 7–18 year-old boys, as well as some young men enrolled at the
club, hrasher concluded that the organization did not prevent crime. Boys’ Club mem-
21)
22)
23)
24)
25)
26)
CP Box 6, Folder 7, and Box 77, Folder 5, cited in Michael Johanek and John Puckett, Leonard Covello and
the Making of Benjamin Franklin High School: Education as if Citizenship Mattered (Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 2007), p. 67.
Gerald Meyer, ‘Italian Harlem: America’s largest and most Italian little Italy’. <http://www.vitomarcantonio.
com/eh_italian_east_harlem.html#> [accessed 14 November 2014].
Ibid.
Ibid.
Reed, Leisure Time of Girls, p. 30.
hrasher, ‘Final report’, p. 881.
Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the Movies, pp. 3, 130–131.
14
Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
bership was in fact correlated with increased levels of delinquency; members participated
in extralegal activities at a signiicantly higher rate than the area’s non-members.27)
Underwritten by the Payne Fund and charged with studying the efects of movie-going on
East Harlem Boys Club members, the MPS emerged out of hrasher’s Boys’ Club project.
As noted above, the MPS had originally been projected as one of twelve monographs that
would comprise what are now known as the Payne Fund Studies. Paul Cressey was principal researcher of the MPS. From 1931 to 1934, he and his team surveyed 2,400 East Harlem
teenagers on their movie-going habits.28) Cressey did not share the strident views on causal relations between movies and youth delinquency held by his former colleagues at the
University of Chicago and other PFS researchers such as Herbert Blumer and Philip
Hauser. Nevertheless, much like hrasher and their mutual mentor sociologist Robert
Park, Cressey still believed mass culture played a profound and poorly understood role in
the moral education of American immigrants, and, as a consequence, he felt this relationship should be carefully examined and ultimately regulated.29)
Cressey’s research revealed that East Harlem boys aged 12 to 16 attended movie screenings at an average rate of 83.4 times annually or 1.6 times per week. Cressey pointed out
that the minimum of 166.8 hours per year these youths spent in theaters was about the
same as they spent in school.30) hese data supported Cressey’s belief that movies were in
direct competition with American schools and other institutions for the hearts and minds
of immigrant youth. In 1933, Cressey lamented to the Ohio State University Professor of
Education and PFS research director W.W. Charters that
[c]ertainly it is true that if we were to name the most inluential teachers of youth
today we would be forced to include, among others: James Cagney, Robert
Montgomery, Norma Shearer, William Powell, Joan Crawford and Edward G.
Robinson — to mention only a few of the contemporary cinema educators of this
new era.31)
By studying how forms of unregulated mass culture served the working-class youth,
Cressey hoped to provide leverage for those elites planning to initiate more wholesome
and closely regulated forms of education and recreation, including the development of
movie curricula at public schools and a series of screenings at immigrant youth agencies.32) Because Cressey conceptualized his study of movie inluence within what he and
hrasher termed the “total situation” — or the range of social forces shaping the world of
27) hrasher, ‘Final report’, pp. 1185–1186, 1187–1191. Although it was submitted to the Bureau of Social
Hygiene in 1935, hrasher’s report was not complete (Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the Movies,
p. 131).
28) For a detailed history of the MPS see Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the Movies.
29) hrasher, he Gang, 22; Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 62; Anderson, ‘Taking liberties’, pp. 141–142.
30) Paul Cressey, ‘he motion picture as informal education’, Journal of Educational Sociology, vol. 7, no. 8
(1934), p. 504.
31) Cressey, letter to W.W. Charters, 05 May 1933, W. W. Charters Papers, Special Collections, Ohio State
University Libraries. Cressey ile.
32) Cressey, ‘he community’, pp. 1–64; Cressey, ‘he motion picture’. For an analysis of hrasher’s and Cressey’s
roles in the sociologically-trained “media expert” in American society see Anderson, ‘Taking liberties’.
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East Harlem boys and possibly contributing to asocial behaviors — Cressey’s methods encompassed twenty diferent approaches. hese included movie “life histories” of his subjects, face-to-face interviews, and “special investigations” conducted by anonymous researchers who secretly followed boys in their movie-going activities.33)
Meanwhile, Columbia University doctoral researcher Dorothy Reed yielded key data
on the movie-going activities of teenage girls during this period by examining the recreational interests of East Harlem girls aged around 15 years.34) Almost all of Reed’s 640 interviewees went to the movies twice a week, and nearly 30 percent of them went more than
once a week; frequent movie-goers were quoted as saying “they went as oten ‘as we got
took’, or ‘whenever we can get money’”.35) Around 93 percent of the girls whom Reed studied preferred movies to other leisure activities, including going down to the front step of
one’s apartment building, where girls would occasionally be allowed to watch — although
not participate in — the world going by.36) Meanwhile, nearly one third of the interviewees
in a 1927 YWCA study of East Harlem girls’ leisure activities reported movies were second
only to family among their “major interests”.37)
he testimonies of East Harlem youths clearly stood at odds with the sociologists’ assumptions. Although Reed sought to establish a link between commercialized leisure and
delinquency, her study failed to establish a correlation between movie-going and antisocial behavior. Indeed, girls from all the three groups studied by Reed (whom she termed
“normal,” “questionable,” and “delinquent”) reported similar patterns. Conversely, female
youths in East Harlem used the movies for what adult elites would have endorsed at this
time as positive forms of socialization: being with friends in safe outdoor locations, achieving a measure of independence thanks to expendable income, escaping boredom and
cramped spaces, and relective thought. Cressey’s MPS meanwhile provided scant evidence that movies were even partially linked to emergent criminal behavior among teens,
and the nominal data that was produced — such as boys’ appropriation of crime techniques that had been shown in gangster ilms — could not be unraveled from broader discourses that may already have convinced teenagers that movies fostered “twisted ideas”.
One young male MPS subject speculated that he was being interviewed “[s]o you can put
me in the papers, eh?”.38) Instead, the teenage boys who participated in the MPS revealed
that they had gained many positive things from the movies, including a sense of independence, increased self-conidence and self-worth, and inspiration for self-invention.
hese experiences were either a product of the performative roles that they cultivated during courting rituals, or of their negotiating of social ranking in the urban environment.
33) Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the Movies, p. 126. On the aegis of this holistic method in the Chicago
School of Sociology see Anderson, ‘Taking liberties’, pp. 47–50. he multiple approaches in the MPS are described by Cressey with co-authors Philip M. Hauser, Edgar Dale, and Charles C. Peters in ‘he motion picture experience as modiied by social background and personality’, Journal of Educational Sociology, vol. 6,
no. 4 (1932), pp. 240–243.
34) he YWCA study included no ethnographic data from teenagers themselves.
35) Reed, Leisure Time of Girls, p. 47.
36) Ibid., p. 44.
37) YWCA, ‘Report’, Chart IV.
38) Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 127. For this insight, I am grateful to Jowett, Jarvie, and Fuller, Children and the
Movies, pp. 68, 91; Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 171–174.
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Close analysis of such documents reveals that developmental processes for these workingclass youngsters overlapped with cinema culture, and that their reception of ilms was
rooted in their social worlds.
Movies as the Material of Daydreaming and Subjectivity
One of the most fruitful debates in Screen Studies concerns the supposedly “immersive”
efects that audiovisual media exert upon audiences.39) Although the East Harlem documents do not record testimonies acquired from subjects during ilm consumption, it is
persuasive that a sense of mental reverie and “transport” repeatedly accompanied the
teenagers’ subsequent discussions of ilm. heir testimony oten bore witness to the extent
to which ilm appeared in their daydreaming and imaginative role-play. he small amount
of available ethnographic evidence that emerged from Reed’s East Harlem study of teenage girls, suggests that romances — her subjects’ preferred genre of ilm — ofered a world
of escape that provided some relief from experiences of deprivation, as well as from boredom, and from the sense of claustrophobia endured in the cramped spaces common to
East Harlem life in the 1930s.40) Statements of this sort included: “I like to see the swells
and forget we’re poor”, “I like to see people love each other and be happy”, “I like to be diverted and forget”, “[w]e don’t get not chance to live that way and you can pretend when
you see the pictures that it’s you”, and “[t]he movies takes you away from home where
there ain’t nuthin’ to do but sit”.41)
he capacity of movie-going and movie-watching to provide a measure of independence — which is clearly evident from these respondents’ anecdotes — seems to be an experience that was distinct to the young female members of East Harlem’s immigrant working-class community; a community in which parents were especially conservative when it
came to raising their female ofspring. In the YWCA study, researchers found that of the
758 employed youths surveyed, which included young women up to the age of 25, only
60 girls and women did not require their parents’ permission to leave the family home,
thereby highlighting the close control that Italian immigrant families in East Harlem sought
to exert over female children.42) Robert Orsi’s examination of the history and culture of
East Harlem reveals that family and community strictures were overwhelmingly focused
on containing and delimiting young girls’ sexuality, by making the “upbringing of female
children in East Harlem … exceedingly strict and fraught with anxiety and dread”.43) In
39) For a partial overview of the debate, see Laura Rascaroli, ‘Like a dream. A critical history of the Oneiric metaphor in ilm theory’, Kinema: A Journal for Film and Audiovisual Media (Fall 2002). <http://www.kinema.
uwaterloo.ca/article.php?id=141> [accessed 18 November 2014]; Philip Sandifer, ‘Out of the screen and into
the theater: 3-D ilm as demo’, Cinema Journal, vol. 50, no. 3 (2011), pp. 66–78.
40) Reed, Leisure Time of Girls, p. 47.
41) Ibid., p. 48. Reed’s transcripts, like those of the MPS, demonstrate the researchers’ attempts to replicate East
Harlem teenagers’ non-standard speech. Richard Dyer’s analysis of entertainment’s “utopian sensibility” has
been helpful to me here. Richard Dyer, ‘Entertainment and utopia’, in Bill Nichols (ed.), Movies and Methods:
Volume II (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1985), pp. 220–32.
42) YWCA, ‘Report’, p. 4.
43) Robert Orsi, he Madonna of 115th Street (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985), p. 136.
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this environment, conlicts oten turned on the movies. hus, twenty-year-old “Miss S.”
who was interviewed by the well-known educator Leonard Covello as a part of his doctoral research on Italian American culture and families, yearned to attend movie screenings,
and deeply resented her father’s strict dictum on their “demoralizing” efects.44) Still, girls
and young women did ind ways of circumventing parental control in order to frequent
their favorite commercial establishments. Reed discovered that while the girls and young
women whom she interviewed may have required an escort to attend movie screenings,
they frequently louted this rule. Reed wrote that the girls “side-stepped [their parents’
rules] by going without permission and inding another excuse”.45)
Diachronically produced histories of young working- and middle-class women’s movie-going in the early twentieth century have demonstrated the inluence that ilm culture
and other commercialized aspects of culture exerted on evolving forms of public culture
and self-expression, although not on their feminist agency.46) In light of this research, the
signiicance of the data from the studies of East Harlem girls is deepened. hese data suggest that cinema ofered a form of independence which enabled young people to circumvent strict parental control, for at least part of the time. When they are compared to other
public and commercialized entertainment, movie theaters may also have ofered a “safe
space” in which to mix with others. Kathy Peiss’ history of women and early cinema supports such an assessment. Peiss argued that a movie culture characterized by interaction
both with other women and families provided a relative haven for young women, one that
facilitated hetero-sociality without the social and physical risks of engaging in more direct
forms of contact with men, as might have been the case with visits to dance halls and
amusements parks.47) Moreover, although both hrasher and Cressey worried about what
hrasher called “sub-rosa activities” in movie houses,48) theater attendance in East Harlem
— characterized by one teenage boy as a “married couples with one or two children, old
ladies, old men, young girls in groups of from [sic] two to six and young fellows who come
in gangs of from three to ten” — seemed relatively safe.49) Teenagers told MPS investigators about the protocols of courtship that shaped heterosexual interaction at theaters, suggesting boys and girls mutually agreed the limits of sexual contact,50) with unwanted ad44) CP, Box 65, folder 14. Cited in Orsi, Madonna, p. 126.
45) Reed, Leisure-Time, p. 46. Notably, these questions were not asked in the MPS study, presumably because it
was understood that immigrant teenage boys were extended certain freedoms in East Harlem. For an historical analysis of the conservative attitudes of Italian families towards their female children in American cities
of the early twentieth century see Kathy Peiss, Cheap Amusements: Working Women and Leisure in Turn-ofthe-Century New York (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986), pp. 68–70, 73, 51; Linda Gordon,
Heroes of heir Own Lives: he Politics and History of Family Violence, Boston, 1880–1960 (New York:
Penguin, 1988), pp.10–11; Palladino, Teenagers, pp. 11–12; Orsi, Madonna, pp. 129–149.
46) Judith Mayne, ‘Immigrants and spectators’, Wide Angle, vol. 5, no. 2 (1982), pp. 32–41; Peiss, Cheap
Amusements; Miriam Hansen, Babel and Babylon: Spectatorship in American Silent Film (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1991); Shelley Stamp, Movie-Struck Girls (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2000); Schrum, Some Wore.
47) Peiss, Cheap Amusements, p. 153.
48) Frederic hrasher, ‘Social attitudes of superior boys’, in Kimball Young and Luther Lee Bernard (eds) Social
Attitudes (New York: H. Holt & Co., 1931), p. 247; Cressey, ‘he community’, pp. 103–110.
49) hrasher, ‘Social attitudes’, p. 249.
50) Cressey, ‘he community’, pp. 108–109, 110.
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vances rejected easily by girls and young women. “A few of the males are so thick-skinned
that only a good slap in the face will cure them of their ‘hand trouble’”, explained one
youth;51) another suggested that “De girl calls an usher if dey get wise”.52)
For the young immigrant girls of East Harlem interviewed in Reed’s study, movie-going and ilm consumption ofered a way of temporarily circumventing the diiculties of
material circumstances, of living in close quarters, of loneliness, and of poverty, as well as
the possibility of achieving both homo- and hetero-sociality in safe, public spaces.53) Reed’s
study nuances the girls’ connection between getting outside to the movie house, and an expansion of the mind, by which I mean a getting outside of the normative views on teenage
female heterosexual desire, with romance movies providing them with “ideas”. Indeed, in
the one movie testimony from a teenage girl that is in fact cited in the MPS documents,
the writer asserts that the girl used such fare to try on new states of mind and to explore
her emotions:
[T]he best thing about a movie is that it’s like a dream. … [T]he movies give us
a chance to enjoy things we wouldn’t dare do ourselves and to realize what they’re
like second hand. … We wouldn’t dare do some of the things we see the movie heroines do, but we let the movie heroine do it for us. But we don’t know, really. Maybe
we’d violate the commandment and do those things if we were faced with the situation shown in the picture. hat’s why I don’t always condemn a movie heroine for
doing them. In fact, when I see a picture I sort of put aside in my mind what she did
and how she met her problem, as a sort of reference to myself, in case I might run
into that problem in the future.54)
Although Cressey comments on this girl’s “imaginative adjustments”, he expressed
doubts about her and her peers’ capacity to deal with “problems in sex conduct which they
encounter [on the screen]”.55) Yet, however much Cressey’s comments might emphasize
the need for pedagogical intervention into teenagers’ engagement with “love pictures”, this
young girl clearly demonstrates a sophisticated propensity for self-relection. Her description of making a “reference to myself ” suggests she is placing ilm narrative onto a mental
bookshelf illed with other stories; one which she may “consult” at a later date. In this respect, the girl can “try on” an adult judgment safely without needing to experience that
story irsthand.
51) hrasher, ‘Social attitudes’, p. 247.
52) Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 109.
53) I am indebted to Annette Kuhn’s view of British movie theaters as independent childhood destinations.
Annette Kuhn, Dreaming of Fred and Ginger: Cinema and Cultural Memory (New York: New York University
Press, 2002), pp. 16–37.
54) Paul Cressey, ‘Youth looks at the world’, in Youth Looks at the World: Speciic Contributions of the Photoplays
to Youth. Unpublished manuscript, n.d., CP Box 65, Folder 14, pp. 9–10.
55) Ibid., p. 9. Cressey was probably referring to the so-called fallen woman pictures that Lea Jacobs identiied
as a signiicant source of anxiety and regulation during the 1930s. See Lea Jacobs, he Wages of Sin:
Censorship and the Fallen Woman Film, 1928–1942 (Berkeley & Los Angeles: University of California Press,
1995).
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he girl’s anecdote coheres strikingly with what developmental psychologists and anthropologists have suggested about the world of play, which includes the spheres of art,
reading, ilm consumption and relection, and other cultural practices. From these perspectives, playing with reality — as in the girl’s drawing on romantic ilms as a “reference”
in her mind — is an essential way of modulating life’s complexities and expanding one’s
sense of possibility in the world.56) Providing additional perspectives on these theoretical
concepts is Ien Ang’s and Jackie Stacey’s research on women audiences. Both Ang and
Stacey argue that although media texts like television shows or feature ilms might express
traditional patriarchal values, some women still ind the very act of consumption and relection of these media to be liberating, because they use these experiences mentally to
“transcend” everyday circumstances and hardships, and to consider ideas from multiple
angles. Similarly, even though the romance ilms that East Harlem girl teenagers preferred
did not feature liberatory narratives, they did ofer content and themes that facilitated East
Harlem girls’ consideration of new states of desire — ones that were disavowed in the repressive environment of their immigrant culture.57) hese ideas could help girls to test the
adult world’s conceptions of sexuality and gender in a non-threatening way — that is without needing, as other commercial establishments demanded, the presence of a real-life
male partner. In Blumer and Hauser’s study, a teenage girl in Chicago summarized the value of these ilms thus: “[p]assionate love pictures make me think most”.58)
The Movies and Role-Play
he MPS contains a wealth of information about East Harlem male teenagers’ imitations
of movie stars, and about their using ilm to try on new versions of themselves, whether
privately, among peers of both sexes, or in the wider adult world. heir adult interviewers
may have sometimes dismissed teens’ actions as “dressing up” or as mimicking the idiolect
of movie stars, but a signiicant amount of material exists to suggest that the teenagers embodied these characters wholesale by playing them out on city streets. Many instances of
role-play described in MPS documents revolved around the actors Rudolph Valentino and
James Cagney, and tended to engage with ethnic and gendered aspects of their respective
star personae.
In what is perhaps the richest document on role-play included in the MPS, one teenage boy, who is described as “like [Valentino] both in appearance and nationality”,59) recounts this star’s efect on his fantasy life in the following way:
56) D.W. Winnicott, Playing and Reality (New York: Routledge, 1971), p. 13; Johan Huizinga, Homo Ludens:
A Study of the Play Element in Culture, pp. 11–12, 18–27; Roger Lancaster, ‘Guto’s Performance’, Daniel
Balderston and Donna J. Guy (eds), Sex and Sexuality in Latin America (New York & London: New York
University Press, 1997), pp. 24–26.
57) I am indebted for this insight to Hansen, Babel and Babylon, p. 120; Janet Staiger, Perverse Spectators: he
Practices of Film Reception (New York & London: New York University Press, 2000), pp. 77–92.
58) Herbert Blumer and Philip Hauser, Movies, Delinquency, and Crime. Payne Fund Studies Vol. 8 (New York:
MacMillan), p. 85.
59) Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 149.
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My irst yearning to become a movie star was when Valentino passed away. hat was
because my folks and friends were saying that I looked very much like him. I had
a scar on myself as he had and combed my hair in the same style. hen I did not
think of the fact that I lacked eight or nine inches to be as tall as he was. I could already picture myself taking Vilma Banky in my arms and kissing her. Flashing my
eyes here and there. And whenever I would reach the Grand Central Station young
ladies would beg for my autograph or attempt to kiss me and probably swoon away.
he idea of running away to Hollywood began to gnaw on my brain but thank heavens I got over it ater a few years.60)
From a developmental perspective, role-play, whether it is enacted as play or in therapeutic contexts, is considered to be a developmentally complex undertaking that shows
a person’s ability to stand outside the self and to crat the self diferently, even as a possible
“self ” he or she may inhabit one day.61) In the passage cited above, the young man advances a remarkable narrative of self-transformation that reveals something of his social world.
He inserts himself into the narrative of Valentino’s 1926 ilm he Son of the Sheik when he
talks of “taking [the actress] Vilma Banky into my arms and kissing her”, even as he relocates this story to a local setting by adding “when I arrived at Grand Central Station, the
girls would swoon”. his youth’s imagined diegetic and extra-diegetic participation in the
ilm is rich in kinetic and spatial detail, which conveys his connection to Valentino’s physicality. he youth’s identiication with Valentino also overlaps with extra-textual discourses that circulated contemporaneously around this star, especially his appeal to both working-class immigrant and middle-class non-immigrant women fans. Valentino’s cross-class
and cross-ethnic appeal is recast by this youth as the teenager’s own magnetism for girls in
East Harlem and at Grand Central Station.62) By invoking Valentino’s Hollywood success,
this youth also invokes a public manifestation of the immigrant worker’s socio-cultural integration, inancial prosperity, and professional success that were central to the American
Dream.63) he testimony of this Italian-American teenager supports recent claims about
the more radical dimensions of immigrant audiences’ perceptions of Valentino’s star persona, particularly its invocation of the social boundary-crossings ofered by contemporaneous urban life, including mixed-class, racial, and ethnic socialization, as well as its embodiment of a form of male heterosexuality that departed from dominant norms of white,
middle-class masculinity.64) Valentino inaugurated what Anderson called the “desegregation of modern cinema”, a phenomenon that would be continued by such immigrant stars
60) Ibid.
61) Peter Fonagy, Gyorgy Gergely, Elliot Jurist, and Mary Target, Afect Regulation, Mentalization, and the
Development of the Self (New York: Other Press, 2002), unpaginated.
62) Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 70–124; Hansen, Babel and Babylon, pp. 245–94; Gaylyn Studlar, his
Mad Masquerade: Stardom and Masculinity in the Jazz Age (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996),
pp. 150–198.
63) Anderson considers the ambivalent reception of this story. See Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, 106–109; see
also Hansen, Babel and Babylon, pp. 258–259).
64) Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 70–154; Giorgio Bertellini ‘Duce/Divo: masculinity, racial identity, and
politics among Italian Americans in 1920s New York City’, Journal of Urban History, vol. 31, no. 5 (2005),
pp. 685–726.
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as the Mexican-born heartthrob Ramón Navarro and the attractive Polish-born actress
Pola Negri; Valentino himself opened myriad points of identiication for diverse ethnic
groups.65) Accordingly, Giuseppe Bertellini has heralded Valentino as a new model for
Italian-American audiences, one marked by youthful, urbanized sophistication and pleasure-seeking sensuality, which working-class Italian Americans could celebrate as a departure from nativist and Italian middle-class gender norms.66) In the MPS, East Harlem boys
frequently referred to themselves and their male peers as “a sheik” (by which they meant
a lady’s man), or they shared Valentino’s inluence on their own courting practices. A special investigator interviewed a youth called “Patsy”, reporting that “I … asked him if he
knew Big Jack (a youth who resembled Clark Gable). ‘Sure, I know that shiek [sic]. He’s
a sucker for de women’”.67) In another movie life story, a youth recalled emulating
Valentino’s “long kiss” on a irst date, and boasted that his date had called him a “man of
the world” [emphasis in original].68) his youth’s anecdote reveals how Valentino’s projection of a mysterious, sexually-experienced, and exotic persona resonated with boys and
girls who wished to escape the conines of East Harlem’s patriarchal culture, if only through
a leeting kiss.69)
As suggested by the irst Valentino movie anecdote cited above, the possibilities evoked
by Valentino’s reputation as an adventurous libertine had uses beyond East Harlem.
Robert Orsi has underlined the importance of the southern Italian “domus” or patriarchal
culture in circumscribing immigrant social relations in East Harlem. He argued that immigrants were expected to perform traditionally gendered roles of self-abnegation and
loyalty to family and community, both at home and in public:
In a very fundamental way, the individual could not exist apart from the domus and
remain a human being. He or she could not make plans or take steps apart from the
priorities of the domus. All were expected to forego personal satisfaction on behalf
of it.70)
Orsi explains that this loyalty was translated frequently into indiference and aversion
to community outsiders — attitudes which contributed to hostility among Italians towards their African-American and Puerto Rican neighbors.71)
From an anthropological perspective, role-play is a means of testing of social relations,
as one group member tries out a role or a social activity that has a bearing on the entire
group’s belief system and culture.72) For the East Harlem youth who breaks away from the
neighborhood in his imagined role-playing of the star, Valentino — especially in terms of
65)
66)
67)
68)
69)
Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, pp. 138; Bertellini, ‘Duce/Divo’, p. 706.
Bertellini, ‘Duce/Divo’, p. 717.
Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 142.
Ibid., p. 145.
I am grateful here to Anderson’s subtle analysis of Valentino’s “ideological crossing of sexual desire and an
exotic distant past”. See Anderson, Twilight of the Idols, p. 128.
70) Orsi, Madonna, p. 82.
71) Ibid., p. 102.
72) Nigel Rappaport and Joanna Overring, Social and Cultural Anthropology: he Key Concepts (London:
Routledge, 2000), p. 30.
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Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
his youth and physicality — represented independence, mobility, and a trying on of new
social relations, notably in terms of forging new intimacies outside the circumscription of
ethnicity and class. Ater all, Grand Central represented both the quintessential “central’
station to New York’s mixture of cultures and a prime route to the outside world. “[T]hank
goodness I got over that”, remarked the youth. Such a declaration invites a number of interpretations: his recognition of the caprice of his Hollywood dream, his comprehension
of the futility of crossing larger structural boundaries of class and ethnicity, and his resignation to the domus. Although it is impossible to know precisely what this youth is referring to, his testimony does make it possible to more fully conceive of Valentino’s meaning
for immigrant male youth in East Harlem. Valentino ofered a vehicle through which
these youth could test social boundaries, ofering a sense of possibility for otherwise unattainably luid forms of contact and intimacy.
Cressey notes in the MPS that in 1930–1931 James Cagney and Edward G. Robinson
were the “unquestioned ‘favorite actors’” of East Harlem.73) One interviewee noted
“[a]lmost all the guys imitate Cagney”.74) A smaller survey determined that 50% of the
20 older teenage boys that were interviewed in this study emulated Cagney. he investigator wrote that most subjects:
[Used] Cagney’s friendly, ‘one, two’ punch to the rib, chin, and shoulder. hey imitate his little jig. hey fake his ‘shake hands’ and laugh at you as they point their
thumbs back over their shoulder as Cagney might have done. hey develop that big
Cagney swagger. hey smiled a la Cagney with all teeth exposed and two of the boys
wear the Cagney spear head shirts.75)
One MPS interviewer noted that his Italian-American subject had adopted Cagney’s
trademark accent and dialect, encapsulated in the following utterance:
I ain’t going to get in Dutch wid de law [meaning: to get in trouble with the law]
‘cause I’m gonna get protection before I do anything. An’ I ain’t havin’ no broads
aroun’ while dere’s work to do. You can’t trust ‘em and dey get you in trouble. If it
wasn’t for a broad dey never woulda got Little Caesar.76)
Cagney’s codiication of the gangster type in The Public Enemy (1931) and later ilms
held special signiicance for second-generation immigrant male youths, who were negotiating the demands of American society and traditional attachments in the 1930s.77) As well
as contemporaneous new gangsters played by George Rat, Paul Muni, and Edward G.
73)
74)
75)
76)
77)
Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 140, n.1.
Ibid., p. 154.
Ibid.
Ibid., p. 136.
Richard Maltby, ‘Why boys go wrong: gangsters, hoodlums, and the natural history of delinquent careers’, in
Lee Grieveson, Esther Sonnet, and Peter Stanield (eds), Mob Culture: Hidden Histories of the Gangster Film
(New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2005), p. 55; Lizabeth Cohen., Making a New Deal: Industrial
Workers in Chicago, 1919–1931 (Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 144–147.
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Robinson, Cagney’s personae signiied an explicit confrontation with the larger structural
order.78) In the MPS interview cited immediately above, Cagney’s sartorial and vernacular
style serves to enhance the content of the interviewee’s testimony or to support his claim
to have igured out the system, as exempliied by his boast that “I ain’t going to get in
Dutch wid de law because I’m gonna get protection”. his teenager’s afectation of Cagney’s
style is at least in part a resistance to power.79) It also illuminates gendered power relations
in East Harlem. Both Robert Sklar and Norman Mailer have pinpointed Cagney’s speciic
and inimitable contribution to the tough guy igure, namely what Sklar called Cagney’s
“sotie side” — a trait rooted in his characters’ dependence on strong women.80) Cagney’s
embodiment of masculine independence, coupled with an attachment to strong females,
was perhaps particularly appealing to East Harlem’s immigrant male youth, on account of
their need to negotiate what Orsi has called the “public patriarchy” and the “private matriarchy” of the domus.81) Orsi writes that mothers in the community were the “hidden center of the domus-centered society, the fountainhead of the blood which bound together
members of the domus and connected it to the rest of the community”.82) Compared to
playing at Valentino, taking on the role of Cagney on the city streets may well have represented a diferent and a more complex way of testing social relations. he role of Cagney
revealed the gender conlicts subtending East Harlem culture, even as it represented
a challenge to the larger racialized order.83) In another MPS testimony, a teenage boy rationalized his emulating of Cagney thus: “Well, it makes me feel big”.84)
Crucially, however, it was not gangster pictures’ narratives — the rise and fall trajectories of some high-proile ilms or the redemptive arcs of others — that were naturalized by
East Harlem youth.85) As Cressey laments with respect to the older teens, “there is a strong
discounting of the (outcome) of the underworld pictures”.86) Such sentiments are apparent
in the previous Cagney testimony, where the youth asserts that while he likes “Little Caesar
and Jim Cagney … dat’s de baloney dey give you in de pictures. Dey always die or get
canned. Dan’t ain’t true. Looka Joe Citro, Pedro Salami, and Tony Vendatta. Looka de ol’
man”.87) During this interview, the teenager — and perhaps even more so in his afectation
78) Giorgio Bertellini, ‘Black hands and white hearts: southern Italian immigrants, crime, and race in early
American cinema’, In Grieveson, Sonnet, and Stanield (eds), Mob Culture, p. 209.
79) Kuhn draws similar conclusions about working-class male youth subjects growing up in 1930s England. See,
Kuhn, Dreaming of Fred and Ginger, pp. 108–109). Meanwhile, Chicano poet José Montoya wrote a poem
entitled “El Louie” about a Northern California pachuco (a Chicano teenager identiied by his idiolect and
zoot suits) who was also an admirer of 1930s gangster stars: “El Louie’s” emulation of the gangster stars is
linked in the poem to the pachuco culture’s larger resistance to Anglo power structures. José Montoya, ‘El
Louie’, El Sol y Los De Abajo and other R.C.A.F. poems por José Montoya (San Francisco: Ediciones Pochoche, 1972), unpaginated.
80) Norman Mailer, cited in Richard Schickel, James Cagney: A Celebration (New York: Applause, 1999, p. 10;
Robert Sklar, City Boys: Cagney, Bogart, Garield (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992), p. 34.
81) Orsi, Madonna, pp. 120, 131.
82) Ibid, p. 131.
83) I am grateful to Cindy Dell Clark for this insight.
84) Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 153.
85) For an analysis of the later, reformist narratives of the gangster genre, see Lee Grieveson, ‘Gangsters and governance in the silent era’, in Grieveson, Sonnet, and Stanield, Mob Culture, pp. 13–40.
86) Cressey, ‘he community’, p. 136.
87) Ibid.
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Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
of Cagney’s speech and dress — distinguishes between the movie gangster’s style and the
fate of actual local gangsters. he reality of successful extralegal activity in East Harlem is
encapsulated in an anecdote that he was told by a Boys’ Club counselor, and which is
printed in hrasher’s inal report. he counselor, who worked in a male youth reformatory, instructed his students to drat a job application letter. All of the students wrote to
gangsters. Perhaps assuming that the mass media had a negative efect on vulnerable
youth, the counselor was surprised to ind that they were not writing to celebrity criminals
of the day, but to local gangsters. Extralegal activity was clearly a source of income, survival, and even deference on the streets of East Harlem. As Orsi revealed, the Maia was seen
as a protector and enforcer of East Harlem’s patriarchal culture.88) he community conlated the mob’s extralegal activity with the domus, believing it to be an institution that outsiders misunderstood and unfairly maligned.89) hus, the fate of celluloid gangsters had little purchase for youth in a neighborhood where gangsters “g[o]t away”, ran well-known
businesses, forged important political connections, and garnered respect from the community. For East Harlem’s teenagers, if not for well-meaning middle-class reformers, it
was obvious that one’s fate was conditioned by structural forces, and not by the inluence
of James Cagney.
Conclusion
East Harlem youths of the 1930s viewed movie-going as an act of independence that involved a location to which they returned time and again in the process of separating themselves from the adult world.90) he route to the movies was hewn by these teenagers, oten
with their own income, in pursuit of freedom and breathing room from the home, the
school, and the street; for aspiring to a future; for imagining and sometimes trying out romantic intimacy in a safe and secure environment; and for trying on new roles, including
those that promised to generate visibility and status in the community. In particular, cinema seemed to ofer a way for East Harlem immigrant youth to mitigate the strains of negotiating the polarizing modes of growing up between the patriarchal strictures of their
immigrant families and the individualizing and oten racializing culture of American consumerism and schooling. In this sense, theatres provided an opportunity to get lost in play
and to try on new subjectivities, actions which psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott deems necessary to lifelong human development.91) Just as love stories and fallen woman pictures allowed East Harlem’s teenage girls safely to imagine new states of desiring, so Valentino’s
star persona permitted teenage boys increasingly lexible options for asserting gendered,
sexual, and class identities, and Cagney provided many boys a conduit through which to
take a public stance in their neighborhood and in the culture at large.
Importantly, East Harlem youths’ play with ilmic worlds also created local culture, as
teens engaged their movie knowledge in courting rituals, cinema talk, and public perfor88)
89)
90)
91)
Orsi, Madonna, pp. 103–104, 127–129.
Ibid.
Here I am again indebted to Kuhn, Dreaming of Fred and Ginger, pp. 16–37.
Winnicott, Playing with Reality, p. 13.
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Figure 2.
c. 1940
25
East Harlem youth, photograph Helen Levitt,
mances on city streets. Crystallizing this phenomenon is a rare Puerto Rican testimony in
hrasher’s inal report on the Boys’ Club Study. Entitled “Porto Rican Life in East Harlem”,
this document recounts the separate behavior of diferent generations of Puerto Ricans at
a wake. While the elders are described as “immediately gathering to exchange their various premonitions before the unfortunate incident occurred”, the youth notes that “[t]he
younger people gather and discuss the various topics such as dances, movies, parties, etc.,
all of course, with proper decorum”.92) he juxtaposition of adult discussion of older Puerto
Rican folkways related to death, on the one hand, and on the other youth talking about
movies and other urban leisure activities, underscores how cinema helped to create new
demarcations of social groups in East Harlem between the generations.93) While their elders looked to the past, the teenagers embrace the present and the possibilities of the nottoo-distant future.
Recent developments in Reception Studies stress that movie-going and movie culture
can provide deep fonts of social history. Meanwhile, existing histories of twentieth-century childhood and adolescence have shed new light on the role that movies and other consumer culture played in helping teenagers to more clearly demarcate the culture of adolescence.94) his essay has developed these two strands of historiography by showing that
in East Harlem, ilm and ilm culture helped teenagers forge youth identities. he East
Harlem Movie Studies aimed to determine how working-class immigrant youth’s consumption of movies was connected to what their writers saw as a failure of culture in that
community: a lack of tradition, of middle-class morals, of parental control, of schooling.
What the documents reveal, however, is that cinema was very much a part of East Harlem
teenagers’ own culture, a culture in which issues of class, ethnicity, and gender were both
salient and deeply intertwined. As I hope this essay demonstrates, East Harlem youth used
the images and narratives of cinema for vital, creative, and social acts: that is, for making
themselves subjects in the world.
92) Unnamed Porto Rican resident, quoted in hrasher, ‘Final report’, p. 296.
93) Sarah Chinn’s historicization of an earlier generation gap between immigrant teenagers and adult society in
the irst decades of the twentieth century has been helpful to me here. See Chinn, Inventing.
94) Joseph Kett, Rites of Passage: Adolescence in America 1790 to the Present (New York: Harper Collins, 1978);
Palladino, Teenagers; Chinn, Inventing; Schrum, Some Wore.
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Lisa M. Rabin: he Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents
Notes
I am extremely grateful to Dana Polan, Lewis Grossman, Richard Nowell, and my anonymous readers for their perceptive readings of earlier iterations of this essay. Kathryn
Fuller-Seely generously shared documents and insights from her inluential research on
the Payne Fund Studies. Kathy, Mark Lynn Anderson, and Eric Smoodin’s collaboration
on a panel at the SCMS annual conference in Boston, 2012 was a catalyst for this essay’s
development. I also wish to thank colleagues at the New York Metro American Studies
Association and the Mid-Atlantic Popular Culture Association’s annual conferences in
November of 2011, and the librarians at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, the
Rockefeller Archive Center, the Bobst Library at New York University, the Sophia Smith
Collection at Smith College, and George Mason University. his essay is dedicated to the
memory of Irving Denowitz, Samuel and Geraldine Fried, and Isidore and Celia Grossman,
children of the city.
Films Cited
Alias Jimmy Valentine (Jack Conway, 1928); All Quiet on the Western Front (Lewis Milestone, 1930);
Cimarron (Wesley Ruggles, 1931); Little Caesar (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931); he Public Enemy (William
A. Wellman, 1931); Skippy (Norman Taurog, 1931); he Son of the Sheik (George Fitzmaurice, 1926);
Taxi! (Roy Del Ruth, 1932); Underworld (Josef von Sternberg, 1927); Up for Murder (Monta Bell,
1931).
Lisa M. Rabin is Associate Professor of Spanish at George Mason University, USA, where she teaches ilm, literary, and cultural studies in Spanish and is a member of the programs in Film & Media
Studies and Cultural Studies. Her article “he Social Uses of Classroom Cinema: A Reception
History of the ‘Human Relations Film Series’ at Benjamin Franklin High School, East Harlem,
1936–1955 was published in he Velvet Light Trap 72 (2013): 58–70. Lisa is currently working on
a book-length project on the international history of the educational documentary.
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SUMMARY
The Normals, the Questionables, and the Delinquents:
East Harlem Youth and the Movies, 1931–1934
Lisa M. Rabin
his essay is a reception history of adolescents’ encounters with cinema in the working-class and
predominantly Italian and Puerto Rican neighborhood of 1930s East Harlem. From 1929 to 1934,
sociologists at the Payne Foundation conducted a “Motion Picture Study” on the allegedly deleterious efects of Hollywood cinema on the area’s male youths, with two similar studies of girls also undertaken at this time. I examine the institutional forces shaping these young people’s testimonies
and the ways in which these testimonies show immigrant teenagers’ using ilms and movie-going as
a means of negotiating both their roles and independence in this urban environment. I also analyze
the gangster movies and romances they discuss in order to understand the aesthetic and gendered
inluences these ilms exerted on the formation of new youth identities in East Harlem.
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Šárka Gmiterková
Importing Modern Venus
Hollywood, Starlets, and the Czech Star System
of the early-to-mid 1930s
he relationships between Hollywood and young American womanhood, especially in the
years ater the coming of sound, have drawn a signiicant amount of scholarly attention.
A number of studies have emphasized the extent to which, by virtue of their public visibility and their apparent sexual and intellectual autonomy, Hollywood’s female stars embodied the “New Woman”.1) his igure surfaced on the silver screen in such sexually-charged
and attention-grabbing forms as the vamp and the lapper.2) Where the exoticism of the
former is widely understood as a manifestation of western fears of non-white female sexuality, the latter is generally seen to strike a balance between light-heartedness and sexiness vis-a-vis beautiication, fashion, and lifestyle,3) combining sexual and social rebellion
with “girl next door” innocence. Youth was central to both igures, even though the term
“teenager” had yet to be coined, as neither of them accommodated markers of aging, not
even positive ones such as elegance and grace.4) Although it is diicult to assign a speciic
1) he concept of the New Woman emerged in industrialized countries at the turn of the nineteenth century in
relation to several images of rebelious womanhood such as sufragists, anarchists, and lappers. he concept
relected the growing number of middle- and working-class women embracing new and more publically visible roles. See Maria Elena Buszek, Pin-Up Grrrls: Feminism, Sexuality, Popular Culture. (London and
Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006), p. 78.
2) his igure previously appeared in a series of Charles Dana Gibson illustrations published in Life magazine.
he Gibson Girl presented a romanticized vision of the New Woman. Beautiful and idealised, she pointed to
supposed female limitations vis-a-vis sports, education, and masculine dress. See Ibid., p. 85–99. For more
on lappers see for example Sara Ross, ‘Good little bad girls: controversy and the lapper comedienne’, Film
History, vol. 13, no. 4 (2001), pp. 409–423.
3) On the relationships between lifestyle and modern womanhood as promoted by Hollywood’s stars and starlets, particularly in terms of the importance of leisure and consumption, see Joanne Hershield, ‘he
Hollywood movie star and the Mexican chica moderna’, in Rachel Moseley (ed.), Fashioning Film Stars:
Dress, Culture, Identity. (London: BFI Publishing, 2005), pp. 98–108.
4) See for example Report from Newcastle Revisiting Star Studies Conference, < http://www.necsus-ejms.org/
revisiting-star-studies-12-14-june-2013-newcastle-university/> [accessed 12 April 2014].
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
age to vamps and lappers, their make-up and revealing clothing certainly suggests women in their twenties, an age very much congruent with youth.
When considering the young performers who embodied these youthful types, we need
to recognize fundamental diferences between these “starlets” and their more established
counterparts, stars. Conceptually, the starlet is presented as an industry newcomer who,
through a combination of intensive promotion and good fortune, has achieved suicient
professional success to bring her to the cusp of fame.5) Rather than being associated with
a new ilm role, she is more likely to be positioned as an of-screen presence about to receive her big break. he star, on the other hand, is presented as having ascended to a position of power and status on the back of creative labor exerted over a lengthy period of
time.6) Diferences between stars and starlets are also historically speciic. As exempliied
by the countless close-ups of actresses like Marlene Dietrich and Greta Garbo, the face was
central to Classical Hollywood star images.7) And, while costuming played a key role, the
bodies of such actresses remained largely hidden from view.8) By contrast, the spectacle of
the visible female igure was central to images of 1930s starlets, who were oten pictured
outdoors, either relaxing or playing sports in revealing outits like swimming costumes,
short trousers, and low-cut dresses.9) his emphasis on close-ups imbued the star with
a degree of polish and sophistication, which contrasted with the more “natural” feeling of
the young, active female body captured in medium shots. he transition between these
two types of shot was therefore central to an actress’s development from starlet to fullyledged star. It entailed a shit from appearing merely to be captured by the camera to playing directly to it, through such valued techniques as impersonation and personiication.
Finally, the transition from starlet to star was completed by the act of speaking, as the star
complemented the primarily visual nature of the starlet with a voice that might showcase
singing, an educated accent and vocabulary, enlightened views, and the capacity to convey
agency through the very act of talking.
he ways in which Hollywood’s youthful star images were appropriated and recalibrated overseas have also been examined by several scholars.10) For example, the local negotiation of imported star images is central to a study by Neepa Majumdar, in which she argues that, from the 1930s to the 1950s, a combination of Hollywood star images and
nationalistic impulses drove the proliferation in Indian audiovisual culture of the “cultured lady”; this culturally powerful construct stood as an epitome of stardom, and served
as a vehicle through which female public visibility could be negotiated.11) Meanwhile,
5) On fame versus stardom see Catharine Lumby, ‘Doing it for themselves? Teenage Girls, sexuality and fame’,
in Sean Redmond and Sue Holmes (eds), Stardom and Celebrity: A Reader (Los Angeles: Sage Publications,
2007), pp. 341–352.
6) See for example Ginette Vincendeau, Stars and Stardom in French Cinema (London: Continuum, 2000), pp.
82–109.
7) See for example Roland Barthes, ‘he Face of Garbo’, in Stardom and Celebrity, pp. 261–262.
8) See Charlotte Cornelia Herzog and Jane Marie Gaines, ‘Pufed Sleeves before Tea Time: Joan Crawford,
Adrian and women audiences’, in Christine Gledhill (ed.), Stardom: Industry of Desire (London and New
York: Routledge, 1991), pp. 74–91.
9) Ibid.
10) Hershield, ‘he Hollywood Movie Star and the Mexican Chica Moderna’.
11) Neepa Majumdar, Wanted Cultured Ladies Only! Female Stardom and Cinema in India 1930–1950s (Urbana,
IL, and Chicago, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2010).
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Erica Carter has argued that the partial modeling of hird Reich stars on their Hollywood
counterparts generated tensions between authenticity and excess, artistry and crat, and
generality and speciicity.12) Studies such as these suggest that we might enrich our understandings of how the Czech ilm production and publishing industries of the 1930s negotiated imported images of Hollywood’s young female stars.13) he interplay of discourses
pertaining to stardom, womanhood, and beauty inluenced both talent scouting and the
circulation of star images in this country. As understandings of stardom in Czechoslovakia
have derived mainly from case studies of individual actresses’ career histories,14) this topic
may also be developed by studies that focus on the structure and production of star images within this particular context.
Accordingly, this essay shows that imported images of Hollywood starlets were largely
embraced in early-1930s Czechoslovakia, especially within publishing and ilm industrial
circles. heir mainly positive reception, I argue, led to attempts to fashion similar images
of, and around, Czech starlets, as new ilm magazines were used to disseminate pictures of
aspiring young actresses in a manner indebted to such American archetypes as the chorus
girl, the pin-up, and Hollywood stars. he appeal of young modern womanhood lay in its
supposedly democratic underpinnings; practically anyone with the requisite looks and
talent could make it, irrespective of class, nationality, connections, and experience. Press
discourse frequently ofered readers a chance to break into the movies through photo contests, thereby deepening the talent pool for the production sector. Accordingly, the essay
opens by considering the representational practices of the ilm magazine Kinorevue, before examining how these practices shaped the Czech ilm industry’s recruitment and promotion of young female talent. In so doing, I hope to enrich understandings of Czech ilm
stardom in the early 1930s in a manner that promises also to ofer transferable insights
that might deepen our knowledge of other nations’ relationships to Hollywood star images. Across Europe, countless creative industry personnel, intellectuals, and artists saw
American culture as a force capable of liberating them from the limitations of national
heritage. hey saw in Hollywood stars the promise of replicable models of physical perfection and reminders of the possibility of social and economic upward mobility. This essay
therefore invites scholars to consider not only the reception of youthful star images but
also the process of manufacturing these starlets in various national popular and artistic
cultural productions.
12) Erica Carter, ‘Marlene Dietrich — he Prodigal Daughter’, in Tim Bergfelder, Erica Carter, Deniz Gokturk
(eds), he German Cinema Book (London: BFI Publishing, 2008), pp. 71–80.
13) his essay follows standard practice by using the term “Czech”, as opposed to “Czechoslovak”, ilm industry
and ilm culture because, prior to World War Two, Prague served as the center of ilm production, distribution, and exhibition. See for example Petr Szczepanik, Konzervy se slovy. Počátky zvukového ilmu a česká
mediální kultura 30. let (Brno: Host, 2009).
14) See Iluminace, vol. 24, no. 1 (2012). In particular see Šárka Gmiterková, ‘Filmová ctnost je blond: Jiřina
Štěpničková (1930–1945)’, pp. 45–67; Vladimíra Chytilová, ‘Olga Schoberová, ilmová hvězda v kontextu
československé kinematograie 60. let’, pp. 87–112. he case of Štěpničková highlights the connections between stage and screen stardom in their interwar years, showing how appropriate femininity, notions of acting quality, social prestige, and citizenship were articulated in these arenas. he case of the 1960s bombshell
Olga Schoberová marked a shit away from the facets exempliied by Štěpničková toward notions of youth,
beauty, style, and sexual allure that relected the liberalization of 1960s Czechoslovakia.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
In need of young talent
he early-to-mid 1930s was a transitional period for the Czech ilm industry, especially in
terms of the state’s funding of ilms. With the coming of sound, this small national cinema
faced a number of challenges. For one, the talkies tripled production budgets, due to the
cost of implementing new technologies during shooting, postproduction, and exhibition.
What is more, this additional expense was not ofset by a comparable increase in box ofice returns on the domestic market. With an average of twenty ive releases annually, only
two tended to generate suicient revenue to cover production costs. It was estimated that
Czech ilms lost an average of CZK 162,000.15)
Deeming ilms to be culturally signiicant objects in spite of their economic shortcomings, the Czech government decided partially to underwrite production in the country.16)
Yet, because its contributions amounted to only one quarter of a ilm’s production costs,
industry decision makers were required to secure additional sources of inancing. For one,
even though most Czech producers were well aware of the limited commercial potential
of exporting their ilms, the popular success of C. a K. Polní Maršálek (1930) in its
German-speaking target markets gave the industry a reason to be optimistic. While penetrating international markets promised to increase revenue, this ilm also highlights the
deeper connections between the Czech and German markets, in terms of shared audience
preferences and cultural practices. While Czech moviegoers tended to prefer ilms in their
own language, they also gravitated en masse to some Hollywood imports, irst talkies and
by 1935 star vehicles.17) he biggest draws on the Czech market were the Swedish-born
Greta Garbo with ive hit ilms to her name, and the Frenchman Maurice Chevalier with
two. Drawing on the model of Hollywood stardom therefore ofered Czech industry insiders a practical method of breaking into foreign markets.
he limited contributions made by the state also encouraged Czech ilmmakers to develop commercially-oriented approaches to motion picture content. For example, in 1935,
Miloš Havel, an inluential producer-distributor and the owner of Barrandov studios, suggested that “[…] to make Czech cinema healthy again we must take greater responsibility
when selecting subject matter, developing screenplays, and recruiting above-the-line talent”.18) Producers therefore fashioned screenplays that centralized genres and topics which
promised to appeal to a sizable audience at home and ideally abroad. Crucially, Czech producers also saw casting, especially the cultivation of a homegrown star system, as central
to their inancial wellbeing. However, their attempts to systematize talent scouting, based
on a highly subjective view of Hollywood practice, clashed with the rather informal nature
of Czech ilm elite circles, where belonging to a certain clique and frequenting the right cafés was of utmost importance.19) his clash resulted in starlets failing to develop into fully
ledged stars.
15)
16)
17)
18)
Szczepanik, Konzervy se slovy, p. 39.
Ibid., p. 42.
Ibid., pp. 273–274.
Translation: “Ozdravení československého ilmu má předpokladem odpovědnější výběr námětů, pečlivější
zpracování scénářů a rozšíření sboru hereckého a režisérského. Po stránce technické a výrobně organisační
je vše v pořádku”. Jiří Havelka, Československé ilmové hospodářství 1929–1934 (Praha: Čeis, 1935), p. X.
19) For a detailed discussion see Petr Szczepanik, ‘“Machři” a “Diletanti”. Základní jednotky ilmové praxe
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he mid 1930s were a good time to develop emerging stars, as the Czech cultural industries were becoming increasingly interested in capitalizing on the phenomenon of
youth. Since the 1920s, this nation’s theater sector had incorporated avant-garde trends,
including those associated with Meyerhold theatre and the principles of comedia dell arte,
in terms of prioritizing physical expression.20) Even the illustrious National heater embraced experimental practices, employing a troupe of young performers experienced in
this type of performance.21) In addition to prestigious institutions seeking to increase their
cultural cache, light entertainment enterprises demanded young, physically it performers
for leading roles and especially background choruses. Revue operettas in particular were
dominated by spectacularly orchestrated dance numbers centralizing large troupes of chorines or “girls”, as they were oten called at this time.22) he sense of an international standard of feminine identity that was summoned by leaving the term “girls” un-translated also
emerged in ilm magazines. It is clear that by the early-to-mid 1930s the concept of the girl
was understood across the developed world as one derived from American cultural artifacts but ultimately adaptable to other national contexts. herefore, Kinorevue could state
that “Girls were invented in America”23) but still publish similar images from Czech,
German, French, and Japanese sources.24) he broad visibility and international appeal of
the girl therefore highlighted the existence of an element of content that promised to be
easily exportable. his potential was further enhanced by the assumption that regular
moviegoers and ilm bufs tended to be quite young themselves, and would therefore gravitate to ilms which featured talent of a similar age.25)
he theater was thus seen to provide the Czech ilm industry with a solution to one of
its biggest challenges: a dearth of young screen actors. he stage would provide a talent
pool from which ilm producers could draw younger performers. Another solution to this
problem was ofered by the popular press. Film magazines posited an easily applicable
model of youth stardom, one derived from a local understanding of the ways Hollywood
constructed star images. he latter brought with it the challenge of adapting American
models to local cultural dispositions however. It needs stressing that the Czech star
system did not correspond fully to Richard deCordova’s model of stardom, whereby
stars are seen to ofer public access to an actor’s biographical legend and “private” informa-
20)
21)
22)
23)
24)
25)
v době reorganizací a politických zvratů 1945 až 1962’, in Pavel Skopal (ed.), Naplánovaná kinematograie.
Český ilmový průmysl 1945 až 1960 (Praha: Aacademia, 2012), pp. 27–101.
For a thorough overview of theatrical trends of the period see František Černý, Dějiny českého divadla IV.
Činoherní divadlo v Československé republice a za nacistické okupace (Praha: Academia, 1983); Jan Císař,
Přehled dějin českého divadla II, 1862–1945 (Praha: AMU, 2004).
Between 1925 and 1930 the National heatre employed promising young talent such as Jiřina Štěpničková,
Jarmila Horáková, Ladislav Pešek, Ladislav Boháč, and Jiřina Šejbalová, some of whom were the irst performers to develop concurrent ilm and stage careers.
Operettas are lighter, more comical versions of prestigious operas. Revue operettas were then-popular updates of traditional versions of the genre. See Miroslav Šulc, Česká operetní kronika 1863–1945. Vyprávění
a fakta (Praha: Divadelní ústav 2002).
Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 16 (1934), pp. 305–6.
See Czech “Jenčík Girls”, Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 27 (1935), p. 8; “Japanese girls posing on a beach”, Kinorevue,
vol.1, no. 25 (1935), p. 492; “A group of French girls”, Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 13 (1934), p. 241.
Markéta Lošťáková, Čtenáři ilmu — diváci časopisu. České ilmové publikum v letech 1918–1938 (Příbram:
Pistorius & Olšanská, 2012), pp. 73–95.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
tion.26) In this respect, Czech stars perhaps better exempliied what deCordova called the
picture personality, without ever truly attaining the status of bona ide stars, precisely because of a lack of “private” information about them entering into the public sphere.
Substituting for the absence of such information was the positioning of Czech ilm stars as
artistes. his facet derived largely from their associations with legitimate theater; the majority of Czech ilm stars not only started their careers on the stage but usually continued
working there ater they started appearing on the silver screen. Various national and cultural discourses imbued the Czech theater with a genuine sense of heritage and respectability, which in turn exerted a profound inluence on the manner in which the personae of
Czech stars were seen at this time. Where Hollywood starlets were widely perceived as attractive yet supericial and unreachable, indigenous stars were typically promoted on their
talent, beauty, and charisma.
Stars and starlets in the discourse of Kinorevue
A popular ilm weekly launched in September 1934, Kinorevue sought to nurture closer
relationships between ilm stars and fans. Like its American equivalents, most of the news
and proiles published in this magazine tended to reproduce ilm industry positions and
rhetoric. he “oicial biographies” featured therein oten blurred the lines between a star’s
persona and the personality of the character s/he played in a particular ilm, insofar as biographical narratives echoed key elements of the storylines of their latest star vehicles.
Kinorevue conceptualized stardom around two pairs of contrasting ideas related to visibility and age; the distinction between the Czech and the international star, and between
the star and the starlet. Czech stars were seen primarily as artistes, on account of their being framed as supremely talented individuals, on their projecting an air of national authenticity based on speaking Czech and their physical appearances, and on their conveying a sense of personal substance and depth due to their professional mastery, beauty,
everydayness, and accessibility. By contrast, Hollywood stars were seen to possess an almost otherworldly quality, on account of their romantic and luxurious lifestyle, their air of
superiority, and their sophistication, elegance, and charisma. he term star itself was reserved for Czech leading ladies that journalists considered marketable, and who could
pursue professional activities outside Czechoslovakia.27) Czech stars were nevertheless
treated with reverence, in contrast to their American counterparts, who were usually pre26) his deinition is ofered by Richard deCordova, who suggests that ilm stardom was developed in three
stages in the United States: from a discourse on acting through to the picture personality and inally to the
star. hese phases also describe the general trajectory of a performer who achieves the status of a star. he
discourse tied up with stardom allows for private information such as romance, familial ties, and scandals to
enter into the public sphere. Such mediated and publicly consumed images may not accurately or fully relect the “authentic” self of the star, but pleasure can lie in this illusion of access. See Richard deCordova,
Picture Personalities: he Emergence of the Star System in America (Champaigne, IL: University of Illinois
Press, 1990).
27) With the exception of the irst homegrown star in the 1920s, Anny Ondra who worked in the German ilm
industry, and Lída Baarová, who enjoyed a promising start in that country, no Czech stars actively pursued
an international career in the 1930s.
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sented in a slightly ironic way that allowed for doubts about their performance skills and
private personalities to be countered in publicity materials. Nevertheless, from beneath
this form of image management surfaced a clear admiration for Hollywood’s apparent systematic and successful cultivation of internationally embraced on-screen performers.
Starlets however, whether Czech or American, were irmly rooted to the bottom of the
pecking order. hese young women were efectively excluded from prestigious columns
such as biographical portraits, because they were mainly presented as anonymous performers. Yet, they could be found regularly adorning fashion pages and articles on beauty
and lifestyle. For example, in an article entitled “Swimwear Season”, photographs of starlets featured alongside text describing Joan Crawford’s and Greta Garbo’s bathing suits.28)
In Kinorevue, American starlets projected the notion of Hollywood as a site of eternal
springtime, leisure, and sport. In many cases, this notion stood in marked contrast to
Czech discourses on stardom, which emphasized that focus, discipline, and hard work
were needed to maintain this professional standing.
he presentation of Hollywood starlets also largely characterized their Czech sisters,
although the latter were invariably named by the press. Czech starlets were introduced to
the public by way of one- or two-sentence captions, a photograph, and notiication of their
upcoming motion pictures debuts.29) Such an approach spotlighted selected experiences of
individual starlets, and accentuated their physical assets. For example, Eliška Pleyová, who
came from the fashion industry, was introduced in a studio photo sporting a bathing suit
(Figure 1).30) Julka Staňková was also presented in swimwear, but in an apparent outdoor
snapshot (Figure 2).31) Marta Fričová, however, was captured dancing, alongside a reference to the growing popularity of her ilm dancing school, thereby invoking the nature of
her talent.32) Other promotional stills focused on the faces of particularly photogenic starlets. A speciic category of talent scouting existed which ofered readers the opportunity to
break into the ilm industry; however, these were geared less to the needs of ilm producers than to increasing the magazine’s circulation, based on the opportunities they appeared to ofer fame-hungry girls and women. Newcomers recruited from the readership
of Kinorevue could in principle be employed either as screenwriters or as starlets. Potential
starlets were evaluated on the photographs they submitted, but which the magazine’s editors tended to relegate to readers’ letters pages. In reality, these photos were just another
attraction for the magazine, ofering, as they did, little chance for a would-be starlet to actually break into the business.33)
28) ‘Sezona plavek’, Kinorevue, vol. 2, no. 41 (1936), pp. 290–291.
29) As much as it seemed to relect the dominant imported strategies of promoting starlets, not all young Czech
screen talent was presented in this way. his being said, the motivation behind the various approaches remains unclear.
30) Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 46 (1935), p. 393.
31) Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 46 (1935), p. 387
32) In the case of this particular photograph, as well as other images centralizing female subjects, it is possible
to see evidence of broader cultural inluences, such as avant-garde photography, modern dance techniques,
and experimental theater. However, because they appeared in a section dedicated to educating of non-professional ilmmakers, these images were efectively excluded from the main part of Kinorevue.
33) Lošťáková, Čtenáři ilmu — diváci časopisu, pp. 90–95.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
Fig. 1. Eliška Pleyová posing in a bathing suit (Kinorevue)
Fig. 2.
Julka Staňková pictured outdoors (Kinorevue)
More so than any other ilm magazine, Kinorevue printed countless photographs,
making it an ideal site for the naturalization of Hollywood imagery in Czechoslovakia
during the interwar years. Between 1934 and 1936, production stills from upcoming
Hollywood ilms, chorus girls (usually from Eddie Cantor movies), and pin-ups appeared
regularly on the pages of this magazine. Such images either captured a group of girls performing ornate routines or honed in on a speciic girl who was being given a professional
push. Where pin-up aesthetics informed the presentation of those starlets who exuded
a hint of sexual magnetism or individuality, chorus girl heritage placed an emphasis on
styling and physicality. Limiting our focus solely to the image of the single starlet allows us
to trace a complex set of negotiations between interchangeability and uniqueness, between the visible and the concealed, and between artiiciality and naturalness.
he pin-up provided a key visual reference point when Czech starlets were introduced
to the public. Beyond its popular status as a “cheesecake” shot adorning countless
American G.I.s’ walls or ighter planes, the pin-up represented a publicly displayed and
publicly consumed exemplar of feminine portraiture, one in which the pin-up’s isolation
from men lent itself to both a male and a female gaze.34) Sexuality was always already im34) See Buszek, Pin-Up Grrrls, pp. 1–26.
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plicit in these snapshots and in the full body images,
but it was rarely explicit, the revealing nature of the
images notwithstanding. heir invocation of the
pin-up imbued the Czech girls with some of the values and meanings ascribed to American youth.
heir intimidating physiques, which Johanna Frueh
insightfully describes as a monster/beauty, 35) coupled with their apparent self-conidence, lent these
young women a measure of sexual allure. Chorus
girls or troupes of young women delivering intricately choreographed dance routines, on the other
hand, connoted a sense of collective identity.
Siegfried Kracauer has aptly described these girls as
an exemplary product of what he called “American
distraction factories”,36) while noting that their geometrically precise performances were suiciently accessible to be enjoyed across the globe. heir performances involved myriad female bodies partially
covered by bathing suits, albeit with the potential
sexuality and sensuality of these displayed bodies
minimized by the collective nature of the performance. he visible parts of the dancers’ bodies —
their arms, legs, and torsos — were presented in
such a way as to ofer the viewer a distinct visual arFig. 3. Anonymous Modern Venus
(Kinorevue)
rangement.37) What emerges here is the calculated
and mechanical character of a choreography that approximates that of the classical Hollywood star system, especially in terms of the talent
scouting described in Kinorevue. he magazine oten compared Hollywood’s organization
of creative labor to a factory; to a standardized process designed to deliver predictable and
satisfactory results. Its articles typically presented Hollywood in a playful, slightly ironic
tone, and sought to undermine the glamorous aspects of the accompanying photographs.
Critiques tended to be subtle; gestures to the petulance, grandiosity, vanity and supericiality of certain tinsel town “divas” only became truly apparent in the context of their Czech
counterparts presentation as authentic and dedicated artistes. he pictured American
starlets were usually buttressed by commentary that highlighted their symmetrical beauty, slimness, discipline, and healthy lifestyles involving sports and other outdoor activities.
Beautiication, dieting, and physical training were seen as aspects of working life, but
35) Joanna Frueh, Monster/Beauty: Building the Body of Love (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California
Press, 2001).
36) Siegfried Kracauer, he Mass Ornament: Weimar Essays (Cambridge, MA and London: Harvard University
Press, 1995), pp. 75–76.
37) Kracauer’s assumption that cultural production invariably mirrors contemporaneous ideological undercurrents may be questionable, but his description of the dance performances and the look of the girls are in this
case is sound, I maintain.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
a strong accent was also placed on leisure. hus, a fairly typical series of photographs
showed a young woman posing on a beach and striking statuesque poses while undertaking various physical activities, including tennis and working out at the gym. One of the
captions that accompanied these images read: “Modern Venus: Ater a long day in the studio, a shapely movie starlet unwinds at the beach with the sun, sea, and cooling breeze”
(see Figure 3).38)
Kinorevue therefore posited a somewhat schizophrenic and unattainable sense of female beauty, which was ofered as a prerequisite for those aspiring to become starlets
themselves. In this respect, beauty was frequently considered in terms of geometry; symmetry, proportions, and “adequate” measurements. It was also constructed around expertise, both in terms of marketing operations and the democratization of stardom, wherein
even the brightest stars had physical laws which needed “correcting” with cosmetics such
as creams and make-up. Ater the emergence of afordable beauty products ater World
War I, the feminine ideal could not be attained without the aid of the cosmetic industry —
the natural needed to be modiied with various touch-ups. For example, one article centered on Katharine Hepburn’s purported attempts to remove freckles from her face. Lastly,
female beauty was constructed around notions of strict physical self-discipline related to
dieting and the sculpting of a it, lithe body. hese elements were more or less attainable;
however, the conferral of star status called for additional qualities, which were harder to
emulate and sometimes even escaped precise description. his slipperiness related to notions of talent, charm, and above all else, to sex appeal, the combination of which became
something of a leitmotif for Kinorevue. Sex appeal, which made speaking about sexuality
possible at high society events, and in magazines and newspapers, was mystiied however.
“Sex appeal doesn’t need any justiication. It can’t cease to exist because its bond with our
lives is too strong. Sex appeal makes art and our lives meaningful” noted one writer. 39)
Such broad and vague deinitions echo Kracauer’s description of girls losing their sexual
allure and their individuality in the context of precisely orchestrated choreography.40)
From their bathing suits and revealing shorts to their outdoor settings and their focus on
the body over the face, these promotional materials were clearly inspired by the chorus
girl.
The production and education of Czech starlets
Despite their apparently random application, the eforts described above were widespread
in the industry, and were closely tied to changes in ilm importation and the organization
of audiovisual culture. One of the institutions that lourished in the mid 1930s by looking
38) Translation: “Moderní Venuše — krásně rostlá, usměvavá ilmová hvězda na mořské pláži, kde si v blahodárné lázni vzduchu, slunce a vody uklidňuje nervy, unavené vyčerpávající prací v atelieru” Kinorevue
vol. 1, no. 44 (1935), p. 345.
39) Translation: “Sex-appeal vůbec nepotřebuje obhajoby. Nemůže zaniknout, protože je příliš silně spjat
s naším životem. Je v něm smysl našeho života i smysl věčného umění, které nerozlučně provází” ač, ‘Ideální
ženská krása a kolik měří…’, Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 44 (1935), pp. 344–347.
40) Kracauer, he Mass Ornament. Weimar Essays, pp. 76–78.
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qualitatively to elevate of domestic ilm production was the company Filmové Studio,
founded in 1934 by Miloš Havel. First and foremost a businessman, Havel set up the company not only as a means of acquiring young talent but above all else as a way of securing
state subsidies. hese were tied to fulilling several imperatives, chief among which was
the recruitment of ilmmakers and actors. In its irst two years, Filmové Studio concentrated on searching for photogenic types.41) he company originally toyed with the idea of
making a star out of a newcomer who would be groomed for cinematic stardom. he candidates or “adepts”, as they were called, tended to lack acting or performing experience,
but Filmové Studio was willing to train them. his educational mission was, however,
rather loosely deined. Talent would either be shown ilms selected by tutors before participating in a discussion or would join the ilm department of the conservatory.42)
Across the early 1930s, it was clear that the lack of young screen actors was a major
problem for the Czech ilm production sector. he emergence of sound had precipitated
a shakeup of who was deemed to be a top star. Generational shits had also contributed to
this state of afairs. But a hitherto unprecedented premium was now placed on the vocal
skills of those aspiring to stardom in sound cinema. Filmové Studio wanted to continue
the practice of scouting and grooming talent based on what was widely believed to be the
Hollywood standard. Kinorevue frequently parlayed the Hollywood approach in the following terms. In Hollywood, strict selective criteria were applied to the vast numbers of
aspiring stars; these criteria were based on evaluations of the photogenic potential of the
face and body. When a promising starlet was ofered a contract, she would undergo
a transformative process that accentuated her beauty and personal style, which would
then be followed by a series of screen tests. Kinorevue claimed that this was a standard process, pointing to Katharine Hepburn, Joan Crawford, and others as evidence of its routinized role in Hollywood. Yet, we should not forget that Czech publicists would have lacked
precise information about the Hollywood studio system; about how this institution actually operated. heir interpretation was therefore based on promotional materials that presented the manufacture of stardom as a coherent and replicable formula. his step-by-step
process indicated that Hollywood’s conceptions of star-making could be employed as
a practical “research and development” model.
Even though these ideas about Hollywood’s stardom might have been rather ill-informed, Czech producers nevertheless aimed to adapt what they believed to be essential
aspects of the star system: selectivity, eiciency, and standardization. As Karel Smrž,
a Czech publicist, journalist, and an inluential igure at Filmové Studio explained, the
number of individuals who made it to the screen was minute in comparison to those who
aspired to such a position. “From almost eight hundred applicants only ten percent succeeded in the preliminary test shots”, he detailed, adding: “even those ten percent have
41) Inventory no. 14, p. 1, f. Spolek Filmové studio, Oddělení písemných archiválií, Národní ilmový archiv
(hereater OPA NFA).
42) his idea evolved into collaborations on short ilms between trainee directors and novice actors, even
though formal ilmmaker training institutions only existed in Czechoslovakia ater the Second World War.
Again though, there is no evidence to suggest that this plan was actually put into practice. ‘Inventory no. 8,
p. 15, f. Spolek Filmové studio, OPA NFA.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
only the slimmest of chances of succeeding on screen”.43) Smrž would go on to assert that
starlets were usually driven not by a dedication to their crat or to the medium of ilm, but
by the pursuit of fame; a misguided motive, he felt.44) His position promotes a vision of
stardom determined by creative labor and by the long-term pursuit of noble goals such as
the cultivation and mastery of one’s crat. he search for prospective talent was therefore
considered to be a lengthy and exhausting process. Consequently, those starlets who were
fortunate enough to be selected would not be treated as mere extras but instead cast in minor roles with some dialogue. In its irst year of existence, Filmové Studio regularly conducted screen tests; however, these were abandoned, partly due to inancial restraints but
mostly to Czech ilm directors’ indiference to screen tests. his indiference was most
likely the result of two factors. First, directors did not have the time to shoot them; they
were put through grueling schedules with feature ilms typically needing to be shot in nine
to twelve days. Second, the branding of Czech cinema as a cinema of quality incentivized
the positioning of its ilms in relation to elevated culture, which ranged from adapting literary classics, making costume dramas, and drawing upon prestigious topical themes to
the recruitment of prestigious human resources such as those with an established career
in legitimate theater.
Conclusion
While they may have been short-lived, the practices described above nevertheless represented part of the systematization and consolidation of the Czech cinema in the 1930s.
he “contingent system”, a means of controlling imports provided support for the domestic ilm industry. State subsidies led indigenous productions to increase from an average of
twenty-three ilms in the early 1930s to thirty ive by the middle of the decade,45) highlighting two problems: the challenge of producing polished internationally appealing
ilms, and a shortage of screen talent. With the Czech ilm industry’s demand for new talent was only partly met by theater performers transitioning from stage to screen, producers wanted to institutionalize a star system of their own. However, rather than lending
themselves to emerging talents, star vehicles were intended to showcase the talents and
presence of celebrated stage performers. his situation may have been complicated by the
fact that long-term investment in stardom would have undermined the inancial security
that state subsidies provided the industry. With capital investment in the cultivation of human resources increasing with the act of grooming each new aspiring starlet, producers
were ultimately content to limit major speaking roles to a handful of A-listers that included Lída Baarová, Adina Mandlová, and Nataša Gollová.
43) Translation: “Z téměř osmi set přihlášených adeptů jen asi 10 % obstálo při předběžné zkoušce a bylo ilmováno — a i z těchto deseti procent jen malá část má naději, že by se mohla se svými schopnostmi ve ilmu uplatnit”. Karel Smrž, ‘Filmové studio a český ilm’, Kinorevue, vol. 1, no. 33 (1935), pp. 121–124.
44) Ibid.
45) Ivan Klimeš, ‘Kulturní průmysl a politika. České a rakouské ilmové hospodářství v politické krizi třicátých
let’, in Gernot Heiss and Ivan Klimeš (eds), Obrazy času. Český a rakouský ilm 30. let (Praha, Brno: NFA,
2003), p. 318.
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hese inancial disincentives efectively limited starlets to publicity materials, especially their presentation in Kinorevue as personiications of an international vision of young
female beauty. here were several reasons for this development. For one, critics dismissed
the ilms in which the starlets appeared as commercially-minded trash, all but ignoring
their admittedly minor roles and thus stalling their careers. he starlets of the 1930s also
failed to survive in cultural memory, and all copies of a ilm introducing some of the starlets, Polibek ve sněhu (1935), are believed lost. Filmové Studio therefore serves as something of a proxy case study, as it was at this company that the systematic cultivation of starlets lourished, for a short time at least. At the outset, Filmové Studio’s quest for fresh faces
was clearly inspired by “Hollywood machinery”; a notion that was both ridiculed and
ironized in Czech ilm cultural circles, but which was at the same time quietly admired.
he Czech ilm industry was in reality closer in its structure and outlook to the German
and Austrian ilm industries. Consequently, it produced stars that embodied forms of national identity derived from heritage culture such as literary classics, especially the solid,
busty “blood and milk” type. However, the images of slender, modern young American
womanhood featured in Kinorevue were also alluring. he starlets fashioned to this mold,
echoed Hollywood archetypes. he emphasis placed on physicality in body-centric photographs of active starlets engaging in outdoor and sporting activities highlighted sexiness
and youth. It may have resonated well with young urban audiences, but Czech ilms generated most of their revenue from small-town and village theaters.46) hese moviegoers
demonstrated a preference for a highly valued vision of Czech womanhood based on endurance, self-sacriice, and chastity that harked back to nineteenth-century literary heroines seen as important symbols of national pride. he inluence of this nationally gendered
igure was felt well into the twentieth century, when such images conveyed a combination
of doe-eyed innocence, mild eroticism, and dramatic sufering, and conjured the igure of
the dedicated, serious artiste behind them. While photographs of Hollywood starlets may
have provided a pleasant distraction, it might well have been unfeasible to present young
Czech actresses in a similar way. he public might not have been ofended by such imagery, but in all likelihood it would not have embraced it either. While Hollywood was frequently portrayed as the land of eternal youth and springtime, the Czech audience was
probably not ready for Czech starlets who exuded leisure, insouciance, and notions of
wellness.
Films Cited:
C. a K. Polní maršálek (Karel Lamač, 1930); Polibek ve sněhu (Václav Binovec, 1935).
Šárka Gmiterková is a Ph.D. candidate at the Department of Film and Audiovisual Culture,
Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Republic, where she is completing her thesis on prewar Czech ilm
stardom. In 2012, she served as a guest editor of a special issue of Iluminace on this topic.
46) ‘Jak se dělá ilm. Rozhlasová reportáž z AB akciových ilmových továren na Barrandově’, Filmová Politika,
vol. 2, no. 17 (1935), p. 2.
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Šárka Gmiterková: Importing Modern Venus
SUMMARY
Importing Modern Venus
Hollywood, Starlets, and the Czech Star System of the early-to-mid 1930s
Šárka Gmiterková
It is generally accepted that, as ambassadors of modern womanhood, Hollywood’s youthful stars of
the 1930s boasted international appeal. Accordingly, this essay examines the two areas of Czech ilm
culture that beneited most from embracing the American starlet at this time. he irst was ilm magazines like Kinorevue, which published numerous photographs of young actresses both form
Hollywood and closer to home. he democratic nature of starlets — promising fame to anyone with
the requisite looks and talent — attracted readers of a similar age who harbored such ambitions. he
second was the newly established Filmové studio, which used Hollywood models as partial templates for grooming the young talents it expected to increase the international appeal of its ilms.
While short-lived, these transatlantic exchanges represented a key part of Czech cinema of the
1930s.
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell1)
“If not for their Artistic Merit
then their Capacity to Connect
with People”
Czechoslovak Communists, Late Cold War Cultural Policy,
and Youth-oriented American Films
Youth-oriented American imports such as Five Easy Pieces (US release: 1970/
Czechoslovak release: 1973), Saturday Night Fever (1977/1979), and Flashdance
(1983/1989) were a prominent part of Czechoslovak culture during the late Cold War period.2) In the 1970s and 1980s, the State Film Company (CSF), via its distribution branch
the Central Film Distributor (Ústřední půjčovna ilmů, hereater CFD),3) targeted young
people with domestic productions like Holky z porcelánu (Girls from a Porcelain
Factory, 1975) and Discopříběh (Disco Story, 1987), and those of other nations including West Germany (Erste Liebe, 1970) and Poland (Trzeba zabić tę miłość,
1972/1979).4) his Communist-controlled, vertically integrated organization’s handling of
such fare was governed by Party ideology and economic pragmatism. On the one hand,
1) he authors would like to thank the reviewers of this essay, the general editor of this journal, and its copyeditor for their valuable insights.
A note on the contributions of the authors: research conducted in Czech archives and surveys of Czechlanguage secondary sources was conducted by Jindřiška Bláhová. Research of secondary English-language
sources, analysis, lines of argumentation, choice of examples, as well as the organization and writing of this
paper are products of close collaboration between the authors.
2) It was not uncommon for some time to pass between a ilm’s US and Czechoslovak releases. We need to appreciate that a number of factors, many of which were not ideological in nature, afected the timing of a ilm’s
purchase and release in Czechoslovakia. hese included long-term distribution plans, the lower cost at
which older ilms could be acquired, the willingness of a rights holder to lease a ilm for a lump sum as opposed to a share of the proits, and the thirty percent cap the Communist Party placed on the amount of
ilms from capitalist countries in circulation at one time.
3) Reinvigorated academic interest in the working lives of media workers suggests new lines of enquiry which
promise to shine a light on the decision-making behind the activities discussed in this paper. Such endeavor is welcomed but ultimately beyond the scope of this essay.
4) Robert Kolář, ‘Rok 1973 v našich kinech. Hovoříme s ředitelem ÚPF Vladislavem Maškem’, Záběr,
25 January 1973, pp. 3, 6; Zdenka Silanová, ‘Ústřední půjčovna ilmů uvádí…’, Kino, 26 September 1973, p. 5;
Ludvík Toman, ‘Z referátu na mezinárodním sympoziu o působení ilmu a televizi na společenské vědomí
ve dnech 14.–18. ledna 1974’, in Slavoj Ondroušek (ed.), Za socialistické ilmové umění (sborník dokumentů
1969–1974) (Praha: Čs. ilmový ústav, 1975), p. 153; Miroslava Knolíčková, Podíl ilmu na šíření uměleckých
a kulturních hodnot (Praha: Ústav pro výzkum kultury, 1988), pp. 1–43.
44
Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
the Czechoslovak Communist Party had commissioned the CSF to expose young people
to pictures advancing socialist values. he CSF’s promotion of Party policy was determined less by mandate, however, than by personnel politics, professionalism, naturalization, and self-censorship. his being said, the Party did ensure the CSF executed policy by
employing trusted managers and by monitoring the marketing materials it produced.5) On
the other hand, the CSF deemed US imports particularly valuable because they were
thought to attract the young people who dominated ticket sales at a time when attendance
was generally declining.6) he CFD estimated that 12–25 year-olds accounted for eighty
percent of the tickets sold in Czechoslovakia, with 15–19 year-olds representing the most
avid motion picture consumers. Naturally, it sought to retain this powerful audience.7)
he speciic logic and strategies that underwrote the CFD’s handling of its youth-oriented American imports across the inal two decades of Communist rule are examined in
this essay. From an analysis of cultural policy statements, press coverage, and promotional materials, we argue that the organization framed these ilms in four historically situated
ways relecting changes in cultural policy.8) We begin by explaining that all of its approaches were rooted in an important series of social and political developments that unfolded in
the late 1960s. From there, we detail how each approach was also informed by conditions
characterizing the period in which it was widely adopted. From 1969 to 1970, the CFD
used youth-oriented American imports to blame student protests on bad parenting. hen,
across the early 1970s, this organization used counterculture ilms to critique various aspects of American capitalist democracy. It would appropriate musical movies in the late
1970s and early 1980s as a means of promoting anodyne alternatives to indigenous music
subcultures associated with antiestablishment sentiments. And, inally, the late 1980s saw
the CFD utilize another selection of musical movies to mitigate consumer dissatisfaction
when public frustration was growing at the failings of the Czechoslovak economy.
By shedding new light on the CSF’s investments in the cultural products of an “enemy
state”, this essay develops our understandings of how European elites appropriated youth5) he CFD typically commissioned its own promotional posters for imported ilms, and selected lobby cards
from those provided by the rights holder. Marie Sylvestrová, ‘Czech ilm posters since [sic] 1945 to the present’, in Czech Film Posters of the 20th Century (Brno: Moravian Gallery and Prague: Exlibris, 2000), p. 56.
6) BK, ‘Bosé nohy v parku’, Filmový přehled, 10 October 1969; Aleš Danielis and Radko Hájek, ‘Film a divák X,
Nové světy’, Film a doba, 1989, p. 556; For Czechoslovakia theater attendance igures see Ladislav Pištora,
‘Filmoví návštěvníci a kina na území České republiky’, Iluminace, vol. 9, no. 2 (1997), pp. 63–106.
7) Toman, ‘Z referátu’; Knolíčková, Podíl ilmu, p. 12; Anon., ‘Ústřední dramaturg ilmového studia Barrandov
Ludvík Toman bilancuje rok 1974 a hovoří o dramaturgickém plánu na rok 1975’, Zpravodaj čs. ilmu,
9 January 1975, p. 1; ‘Závěry 1. schůze komise ÚV KSČ pro práci s mládeží ze dne 14. října 1976’, National
Archive in Prague (hereater NA), Central Committee of the Communist Party Files (hereater f. A ÚV
KSČ), Komise pro práci s mládeží 1945–1989 (hereater f. 10/20) folder 3, Archival Unit (hereater AU) 12,
sheet 35; See also Ivo Pondělíček, Proměny ilmového hlediště v ČSR (1966–1968): Filmologický sborník, V.
(Praha: ČSFU, 1969); Radko Hájek, Současná kultura ilmového diváka ČSR: Závěrečná zpráva výzkumu
(Praha: ČSFÚ, 1980); Miloslava Česneková, Helena Vostradovská and Radko Hájek, Sociologická analýza ilmu (Praha: ČSFU, 1984–1985).
8) he Czechoslovak Communist Party had previously employed American ilms for ideological purposes. For
example, in the late 1940s, they used some of Charlie Chaplin’s ilms, and invoked aspects of his star persona, to criticize Hollywood and American capitalist democracy. See Jindřiška Bláhová, ‘No place for peacemongers: Charlie Chaplin, Monsieur Verdoux (1947), and Czechoslovak communist propaganda’, Historical
Journal of Film, Radio and Television, vol. 29, no. 3 (2009), pp. 271–292.
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oriented American cinema in the second half of the twentieth century. For one, an examination of the organization’s use of such fare broadens our appreciation of the conduct of
the most inluential body in Czechoslovak ilm culture at this time. In particular, it provides insights missing from existing quantitative studies, by considering how some
American imports itted into the political and economic strategies of this organization.9)
To date, historians have explained that the CSF underwrote audiovisual entertainment to
distract citizens from social and political problems.10) Yet, the roles of its imports remain
poorly understood; this in spite of the fact that the CSF oten considered such ilms to be
better ideological tools than domestic productions, which some viewers avoided due to
suspicions of propagandistic intent. he social, cultural, and political importance the CFD
assigned to its youth-oriented American imports also reminds us that historians have concentrated on the concerns European claims-makers expressed about such fare in the second half of the twentieth century. For example, Daniel Biltereyst shows that stakeholders
in 1950s Britain and France feared some Hollywood teen ilms could incite antisocial behavior among impressionable youngsters.11) Similarly, Uta G. Poiger details how comparable
issues preoccupied the regimes of East and West Germany.12) By contrast, the case of the
CSF reveals some European elites drew fairly positive conclusions about this type of ilm.
Normalization, youth, and cinema
To better understand the CFD’s handling of youth-oriented American imports in the
1970s and 1980s, it is helpful to recognize the impact of social and political developments
which took place in the preceding years. he years 1967 and 1968 saw the liberal wing of
the ruling Czechoslovak Communist Party push for political and economic reforms.13)
Calls for increased freedom of speech encouraged some young people, especially students,
to voice their dissatisfaction of the regime.14) In what became known as the Prague Spring,
students rallied in cities such as Prague, and rebellious subcultures including hippies,
punks, and, beatniks proliferated.15) Such events suggested that a generational conlict was
9) Luděk Havel, ‘Hollywood a normalizace’ (MA Dissertation: Masaryk University, 2008).
10) Štěpán Hulík, Kinematograie zapomnění (Praha: Casablanca, 2011), pp. 290–292.
11) Daniel Biltereyst, ‘American juvenile delinquency movies and the European censors: the cross-cultural reception and censorship of he Wild One, Blackboard Jungle, and Rebel without a Cause’, in Timothy Shary
and Alexandra Seibel (eds), Youth Culture in Global Cinema (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2007),
pp. 9–26.
12) Uta G. Poiger, Jazz, Rock, and Rebels: Cold War Politics and American Culture in a Divided Germany
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), p. 32.
13) Zdeněk Doskočil, Duben 1969: Anatomie jednoho mocenského zvratu (Praha: Ústav pro soudobé dějiny,
2006); see also Vilém Prečan, Proměny pražského jara: Sborník studií a dokumentů o nekapitulantských postojích v československé společnosti 1968–1969 (Praha: Ústav pro soudobé dějiny AV ČR, 1993).
14) Jaroslav Pažout, Československé studentské hnutí v šedesátých letech dvacátého století (Prague: Libri prohibiti, 2001); Milan Otáhal, Studenti a komunistická moc v československých zemích 1968–1989 (Praha: Dokořán,
2003).
15) Miroslav Vaněk (ed.), Ostrůvky svobody: kulturní a občanské aktivity mladé generace v 80. letech v Československu (Praha: Ústav pro soudobé dějiny AV ČR and Votobia, 2002), p. 7; Miroslav Vaněk, Byl to jenom
rock ‘n’ roll? Hudební alternativa v komunistickém Československu 1956–1989 (Praha: Academia, 2010),
p. 231.
46
Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
gripping Czechoslovakia; the values these youths held dear appeared at odds to those of
a parent generation that included conservative political elites.
he Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia in August 1968 ushered in a draconian period in the country’s history known as normalization. he hardline Communists who had
consistently seen the young dissenters as an afront to socialist mores and a threat to the
regime now wielded greater sway over policy and public discourse.16) hese hardliners
were shocked by the protests. As Christiane Brenner has pointed out, the Party had expected State-socialism to eradicate this type of problem; to produce a young people who
supported the regime, especially when they had been raised exclusively under this system.17) In response, hardliners attempted to discredit the protesters and present the Party
as the sole guarantor of order, security, and prosperity.18) hese positions were part of
a broader strategy that also included discrediting liberal journalists and liberal party
members, which the Party used to foster the civil obedience it deemed central to normalization.19)
he ideological education of the country’s young became a priority for the Czechoslovak
Communist Party during normalization. In addition to commissioning studies on intergenerational tension and juvenile delinquency, the Party redrated cultural policy to curtail dissent, placing its ideological commission in charge of it.20) he value the Party assigned to the youth-focused aspects of cultural policy was exempliied by its assuming
control of Czechoslovakia’s largest youth organization: the Socialist Youth Union
(Socialistický svaz mládeže). his union was not only tasked with shaping young minds
and producing the next generation of leaders, but its council was sought by the CSF when
choosing youth-oriented ilms.21) What is more, the Party’s Committee for Working with
Youth (Komise pro práci s mládeží) was made responsible for ensuring young people’s
free-time was built around activities that promoted socialist ideals, for policing youth-oriented publications and television broadcasts, and for supervising education centers, youth
clubs, and ilm societies.22)
Naturally, under normalization, cultural policy directly afected cinema.23) hus, 1969
saw new editors-in-chief put in charge of ilm magazines to ensure journalists who had
16) Ibid, pp. 231–232.
17) Christiane Brenner, ‘Troublemakers! dealing with juvenile deviance and delinquency in Socialist
Czechoslovakia’, Acta historic Universitatis Silesianae Opaviensis, no. 6 (2013), p. 126.
18) See Jaroslav Pažout, Hnutí revoluční mládeže 1968–1970: edice dokumentů (Praha: Ústav pro soudobě dějiny
AV ČR, 2004); Anon., ‘Proč byl leden nutný. Rozhovor Rudého práva se soudruhem Gustávem Husákem’,
Rudé právo, 5 January 1970, p. 3.
19) Petr Cajthaml, ‘Nástup normalizace v televizní publicistice a dokumentu’, in Petr Kopal (ed.), Film a dějiny
4, Normalizace (Praha: Casablanca and Ústav pro studium totalitních režimů, 2014), pp. 17–24.
20) See Brenner, ‘Troublemakers!’, pp. 123–137; see also Christiane Brenner, ‘Líné dívky, lehké dívky?
“Příživnictví” a disciplinace mladých žen v době normalizace’, Dějiny a současnost, vol. 9, no. 7 (2013),
pp. 19–22.
21) An interview with Aleš Danielis, 23. 3. 2013 (author’s archive).
22) he Socialist Youth Union Charta, <http://www.totalita.cz/txt/txt_ssm_stanovy.pdf> [accessed 10 September 2014]; On ilm clubs see Vladimír Slanař, ‘Filmové kluby dětí a mládeže’ (MA Dissertation: Filmová
a Televizní Fakulta Akademie Múzických Umění, 1988).
23) Jiří Purš, ‘Projev ředitele Čs. ilmu Jiřího Purše z roku 1970’, in Jiří Havelka, Čs. ilmové hospodářství 1966–
–1970 (Praha: Československý ilmový ústav, 1976), pp. 16–19; ‘Zpráva o plnění Realizační směrnice a další
úkoly ideologické činnosti strany, projednané na 2. schůzi ideologické komise ÚV KSČ konané dne
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survived the purges of early normalization toed the party line. Party elites also publicly
distinguished between the ilms they found acceptable and unacceptable.24) For example,
in an address to the Socialist Youth Union, new Party general secretary Gustav Husák —
the face of normalization — denounced some ilms as peddling “ilth, perversion, negativity” and ofering little “positive, pure, nice, or cultural”.25) Similarly, the newly appointed
director of the CSF accused some ilmmakers of corrupting youth with “the wrong philosophical, political, and ideological perspectives”.26) In the hope that it might limit young
people’s exposure to themes of nihilism, relativism, and negativity, which the Party deemed
anathematic to socialist society, the CSF instructed theaters to only screen ilms that disseminated Socialist ideals.27) It also withdrew from circulation twenty-three locally produced “anti-communist ilms”, including new-wave fare like The Firemen’s Ball (1967)
and The Cremator (1968), and condemned imports it saw as “promoting the western
way of life”.28) However, at the same time, the CSF recognized some youth-oriented ilms
could be used to advance Party policy and thus catalyze normalization. Such pictures were
usually played at the Youth Film Festival in the city of Trutnov (Filmový festival mládeže)
and on the Youth and Culture television program (Mládež a kultura).29) Among them were
those positing parents as accountable for their unruly ofspring.
24)
25)
26)
27)
28)
29)
17. června 1970’, NA, A ÚV KSČ, Fond Ideologická komise ÚV KSČ (hereater f. 1261/1/15), folder 1, AU 2,
note, 0, l. 6; On normalization in the ilm industry see: Hulík, Kinematograie zapomnění; on normalization
more generally see, for instance: Milan Otáhal, ‘O vztahu společnosti k normalizačnímu vedení’, in Oldřich
Tůma and Tomáš Vilímek (eds), Česká společnosti v 70. a 80. letech: sociální a ekonomické aspekty (Praha:
Ústav pro soudobé dějiny AV ČR, 2012), pp. 247–284; Zdeněk Hejzlar, Praha ve stínu Stalina a Brežněva:
Vznik a porážka reformního komunismu v Československu (Praha: Práce, 1991).
Believing that audiences could be both measured and understood, the CSF commissioned sociological research into why individuals attended theaters and expressed preferences for certain genres, subject matter,
and sites of production. hese studies were expected to make it possible for the organization to devise a formula for appealing to the enlightened socialist moviegoer, which is to say those viewers who were “sensitive
to the ethics and issues of modern society”. In other words, the ilm authorities tried to engineer a situation
where audiences would “naturally” choose, say, a Bulgarian ilm about struggling factory workers over an
American musical. Youth igured into this research. he authorities were, for example, concerned by young
people who did not pursue tertiary education expressing a preference for spectacle-driven entertainment.
Knolíčková, Podíl ilmu, p. 11.
Husák, ‘Ustavující celostátní konference’, p. 26.
Purš, ‘Projev ředitele Čs. ilmu’, p. 16.
Jiří Purš, Obrysy vývoje československé znárodněné kinematograie, (1945–1918) (Praha: ČSFÚ, 1985), p. 101.
Purš, ‘Projev ředitele Čs. ilmu’, p. 17; On the restrictions on ilms distributed in Czechoslovakia see Jiří Purš,
‘Naše úkoly a cíle’, in Ondroušek (ed.), Za socialistické ilmové umění, p. 89; ‘Zápis z 2. schůze ideologické
komise ÚV KSČ konané dne 17. června 1970’, NA, f. ÚV KSČ, 1261/1/15, folder 1, AU 2, note, 0b, pp. 5–6,
sheets 7–8; ‘Návrh organizačního, kádrového a obsahově-funkčního uspořádání odboru kulturní politiky
ÚŘ ČSF’, National Film Archive in Prague (hereater NFA), Central Directorate of the Czechoslovak State
Film Files (hereater f. ÚŘ ČSF), 1972, R12/AII/3P/2K.
‘Filmová distribuce v roce 1968, 08. 11. 1967’, NFA, f. ÚŘ ČSF, Folder ÚŘ ČSF kolegiální porady 1967,
zahraničí a distribuce 70. léta, R10/BI/4P/1K, p. 8; ‘Osnova rámcové koncepce výchovy ilmového diváka,
12.12.1967’, NFA, f. ÚŘ ČSF, R10/BI/4P/1K, p. 6.
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
Juvenile delinquency, parenting, and REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE
Where some European elites found Rebel without a Cause (1955/1969) objectionable,
the CFD considered this ilm so important that it granted it a premiere at the prestigious
Workers Film Festival (Filmový festival pracujících) — a roadshow maximizing the availability of ideologically signiicant ilms.30) Some British politicians and journalists had derided Rebel without a Cause as “poisonous stuf for the teddy inclined adolescents”,
East German authorities had denounced the ilm as mass culture trash, and their West
German counterparts had feared it would provoke riots and destabilize gender relations.31)
By contrast, the CFD found value in this picture’s renditions of a dysfunctional family, inefectual childrearing, and adolescent self-destruction. At the time, the Committee for
Working with Youth emphasized parenting was central to the production of upstanding
socialist citizens,32) with the Party’s lagship newspaper Rudé právo printing numerous articles on the ideological education of the young. One tract published when Rebel without a Cause was on general release blamed student dissent partly on the parent generation instilling lax morals and values into its ofspring.33)
Rebel without a Cause enabled the CFD to blame the juvenile delinquency that the
Party claimed was sweeping the country on parents, and, by extension, to absolve the authorities themselves of responsibility. he mouthpiece of the CSF, Filmový přehled, spotlighted the generalizable nature of the themes summoned by this ilm, stressing “juvenile
delinquency was not restricted to American society”.34) he magazine also invited readers
to draw comparisons between the adult world depicted in the ilm and Czechoslovakia’s
socialist system of governance, insisting that Rebel without a Cause “showed juvenile
criminality was usually a product of substandard parenting leading to psychological problems in the young”.35) It framed the ilm as a cautionary tale, one which promised to prevent youngsters from “polluting” Czechoslovakia like their older siblings had in the late
1960s. “Young people who do not trust adults, who do not trust their parent and teachers,
and who do not believe in the social order these adults created”, mused one writer, “ind
themselves drawn to that symbol of rebellion: the gang”.36) his position suggested that the
social unrest which had blighted the previous decade could be prevented by a loving
home, thereby encouraging parents to attend to the generational conlicts that the Party
insisted underpinned such unrest in the irst place.37)
30)
31)
32)
33)
34)
35)
36)
37)
Havelka, Čs. ilmové hospodářství 1966–1970, p. 74.
Biltereyst, ‘American juvenile delinquency’, p. 19; Poigner, Jazz, Rock, and Rebels, pp. 77–85, 108–110.
‘Závěry 1. schůze komise ÚV KSČ pro práci s mládeží ze dne 14. října 1976’, p. 13.
Jan Beránek and Josef Mužík, ‘K problémům světonázorové výchovy na vysokých školách. Hledat a nacházet
pravdu’, Rudé právo, 13 January 1970, p. 3; See also z., ‘Vychovávat mladé lidi v třídně uvědomělé občany’,
Rudé právo, 8 November 1969, p. 1; Jiřina Lišková, ‘Z vlastního přesvědčení’, Rudé právo, 5 December, 1969,
p. 3; tt., ‘O mládí, mládeži a generacích’, Mladý svět vol. 12, no. 3, 1970, p. 20.
Anon., ‘Rebel bez příčiny’, Filmový přehled, 7 November 1969, p. 4.
Ibid.
Ibid; ‘Distribuční list č. 9/70, ÚPF, 25. 12. 1969’, NFA, Sbírka reklamních materiálů k českým i zahraničním
ilmům.
Controlled by the Socialist Youth Union ater 1970, the widely read youth magazine Mladý svět ran a series of
articles in which Communist top brass insisted young people should stop criticizing the parent generation
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he CFD’s promotion of Rebel without a Cause also spotlighted a igure
which some Communists had consistently
invoked as a symbol of failed parenting and
western social decay: the hippie (see Figure
1). Whereas the liberal wing of the Party
had indirectly facilitated the student protests and the proliferation of youth subcultures, hardliners had long since denounced
both, singling out hippies as the most insidious of dissenters. As far back as the mid
1960s, pro-hardline newspapers had demonized the American counterculture,
spotlighting permissiveness, drug use, and
aimlessness as evidence of young people
losing their way under capitalist democracy. Moreover, following several protests,
Prague’s municipal council had warned it
would clamp down on hippies for their
Fig. 1 he Czechoslovak poster for Rebel withpurported transgression of appropriate soout a Cause
cialist behaviors.38) In his aforementioned
address to the Socialist Youth Union,
Husák even suggested un-socialist cinema
had seduced otherwise well-adjusted young Czechoslovaks into a “western Hippie underworld”.39) Replacing the bankable James Dean whose image had dominated Rebel without a Cause’s American poster with one of a young man sporting bellbottoms, a lowered
shirt, and long hair, allowed the CFD to convey precisely who it considered the rebels
without a cause to be, and who parents should fear their children might become. he
CFD’s use of Rebel without a Cause to advance the Party line on juvenile delinquency
and parenting was superseded by its appropriation of other youth-oriented American imports to critique American capitalist democracy.
and redirect their energies to Party-endorsed undertakings. See Anon., ‘Na otázku Mladého světa odpovídá
JUDr. Felix Vašečka, Csc, ministr spravedlnosti ČSR’, Mladý svět vol. 12, no. 5, 1970, p. 3; Anon., ‘Na otázky
Mladého světa odpovídá ministr zdravotnictví České socialistické republiky, RNDr. Vladislav Vlček’, Mladý
svět vol. 12, no. 8, 1970, p. 3; Anon., ‘Na otázky Mladého světa odpovídá ministr zemědělství a výživy slovenské socialistické republiky Ing. Jan Janovic, CSc.’, Mladý svět, vol. 12, no. 9, (1970), p. 3.
38) Vaněk, Byl to jenom, p. 232.
39) Ibid.
50
Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
Idealization, American capitalist democracy, and counterculture pictures
In the early 1970s, the CSF prioritized youth-oriented American imports that enabled it to
spotlight the supposed generational tensions, social problems, and political upheavals
blighting the United States. Consequently, the Central Distribution Company framed several counterculture pictures in a manner that suggested the turmoil they depicted revealed
the dire consequences of the reforms both the Party’s liberal wing and students demanded in the late 1960s. he organization used Summertree (1971/1973), Five Easy Pieces,
and The Strawberry Statement (1970/1976) to posit that, rather than guaranteeing
freedom, capitalist democracy precipitated tyranny; a position which in turn suggested
that the Soviet-led invasion of 1968 deserved to be credited for saving Czechoslovaks from
a similar fate. hese ilms were positioned as a direct contrast to CFD releases depicting
young people in socialist countries. On the one hand, the Soviet-imports O ljubvi (1970)
and Tenderness (1970/1972), and the domestically made Metráček (1971) and Můj
brácha má prima bráchu (My Brother Has a Great Brother 1973), foregrounded humanist themes like interpersonal relationships, romantic love, and social responsibility
and harmony. On the other, the CSF-produced musicals Třicet pannen a Pythagoras
(hirty Maidens and Pythagoras, 1973) and Holky z porcelánu, among others, showed
Czechoslovak youth contently studying and apprenticing.40)
his anti-American approach to framing youth-oriented US imports unfolded during
a highly draconian period in Czechoslovak history that Jaromír Blažejovský calls “normalization on the ofensive”.41) Policymakers like Jan Fojtík, a member of the Central
Committee’s Ideological Commission responsible for media and culture, feared
Czechoslovakia’s pro-American youth destabilized State-socialism and threatened mass
defections to the west.42) In response, hardliners sought to stop young people from viewing capitalist nations in general and the United States in particular as beacons of progressivity. Suggesting that such positions derived from romantic fantasy involved contrasting
the putative vices of capitalism with the apparent virtues of socialism.43) he CSF believed
that some US counterculture pictures promised to undermine young people’s idealization
of life in this paradigm of capitalist democracy.
he CSF selected Summertree from a cluster of ilms critical of America’s invasion
and occupation of Vietnam due to the overt nature of its denunciation of US governmental policy. At the time, the Czechoslovak press regularly condemned Washington for its
operations in this Southeast Asian country. he Communist Party’s lagship ilm magazine Kino had for example attacked the bellicosity of the pro-Vietnam opus The Green
Berets (1968). It had also printed interviews with high-proile American liberals who had
spoken out against the war, including blacklisted director Elia Kazan and the actress and
40) he CFD continued to release positive portrayals of student life under State-socialism across the 1980s. Such
ilms included Snowdrops and Dabs and How the World Looses Poets (both 1982).
41) Jaromír Blažejovský, ‘A Time of the Servants (1969–1989)’, in Sylvestrová (ed.), Czech Film Posters of the 20th
Century, p. 108.
42) ‘Záznam z 2. schůze ideologické komise ÚV KSČ, 17. června 1970’, NA, A ÚV KSČ, f. 1261/1/15 folder 1,
AU. 2, note, 0.
43) Doskočil, Duben 1969, p. 21.
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activist Jane Fonda. Rather than being
voiced by Communists, these denunciations of a system purportedly built on social inequality, genocide, and bloodlust
were shown to be articulated by American
citizens themselves.44) Summertree, the
story of a young drat dodger leeing to
Canada, was seen to exhibit so much political value that it, like Rebel without
a Cause earlier, was granted a spot at the
Workers Film Festival.45) Moreover, its portrayal of the injustices of US capitalist
democracy and expansionism allowed
Filmový přehled to posit an irreconcilable
tension between Washington’s objectives
and those of the “outraged” young
Americans who refused to “ight for goals
that were not their own”.46) Boasting a tagline that emphasized social engagement
Fig. 2 he Czechoslovak poster for Summertree
(“An Insight into Contemporary America”),
the CFD’s print advertising pictured US
foreign policy as a ruthless folly doing untold damage to youth. It featured a young
couple lying beneath a night sky, pierced, as if by a bullet, to reveal the bloodshed and horror of US military action (see Figure 2). By contrast, Columbia Pictures sold the ilm to
American audiences as a bittersweet romance — “Once there was a girl and a guitar and
a summertime” read its promotional poster.
Five Easy Pieces permitted the CFD to spotlight the youth alienation hardliners had
diagnosed as a symptom of America’s crumbling capitalist democracy.47) Stateside, this
ilm was sold as a largely indeterminate quality drama based on the apparent virtuoso performance of star Jack Nicholson and the purported vision of director Bob Rafelson.
However, Filmový přehled suggested that this tale of a bourgeois dropout was further evidence of “the psychological confusion of young Americans today” and their “futile search
for something meaningful”.48) he supposed pressures of life in the United States were also
emphasized in the ilm’s print advertising. Where lobby cards pictured a confrontation between two young men, promotional posters featured an expressionistic image of a young
man’s blinding rage. Encapsulating the despair many young Americans allegedly felt at
44) jb., ‘Rozpaky kolem Vietnamu’, Záběr, 7 January 1971, p. 6; A. Špindlerová, ‘Případ Elia Kazan’, Kino,
26 February 1973, p. 15; Anon., ‘Je na čase, aby Amerika odhodila sombréra a kolty’, Kino, 22 May 1973,
pp. 3–4.
45) BK., ‘Letní strom’, Filmový přehled, 29 December 1972, p. 3.
46) BIbid.
47) L. Oliva, ‘Skromná mnohostrannost’, Kino, 4 December 1973, p. 5.
48) Anon., ‘Malé životní etudy’, Filmový přehled, 2 November 1973, p. 2.
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
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this time, an accompanying tagline read:
“About a man who had nothing to live for”
(see Figure 3).
The Strawberry Statement allowed
the CFD to suggest that many young
Americans were dissatisied with the very
freedoms Czechoslovak youths and Party
liberals demanded.49) he US marketing of
this ilm was inluenced by Hollywood’s
concerns about counterculture pictures
causing public relations headaches, angering the inluential college press, and failing
to attract large audiences.50) It highlighted
a romance between two students innocently enjoying the tertiary education they had
worked hard to receive, and their being innocently caught up in protests they did not
understand. By contrast, the artwork with
which the CFD promoted this story of
campus protests invoked the idea of a nation on the brink of collapse. It billed The
Strawberry Statement as “he US Film
Awarded a Special Jury Prize at the Cannes
Film Festival”. he presence of the municipal-sounding “US” instead of the more
commonly used “American” was signiicant. In the context of an image of a makeup-clad Statue of Liberty that looked rather like a caricature of imperial Roman
Fig. 3 Five Easy Pieces’ Czechoslovak poster (top)
busts, this semantic nuance evoked an emand one of its lobby cards (bottom)
pire whose bold public façade barely concealed its structural unsoundness (see
Figure 4). Such themes were developed in
press discussion of the ilm. Journalists used The Strawberry Statement to support
American protestors, by casting their actions as an understandable response to the injustices of capitalist democracy. At the same time, they used the ilm to mount attacks on
those who had voiced disapproval of State-socialist Czechoslovakia, where, they maintained, such putatively intolerable conditions simply did not exist.51) Commentators insist49) his ilm also allowed the Ideological Committee to fulill its brief of showcasing “capitalist governments’
clamping down on student radicals”. ‘Závěry 1. schůze komise ÚV KSČ pro práci s mládeží ze dne 14. října
1976’, sheet 37.
50) See Aniko Bodroghkozy, ‘Reel revolutionaries: an examination of Hollywood’s cycle of 1960s youth rebellion ilms’, Cinema Journal, vol. 41, no. 3 (2002), pp. 38–58.
51) Atentát na kulturu, Czechoslovak State Television, originally aired 1977.
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ed that misguided young Czechoslovaks
had no real grounds to challenge the regime.52) When presented less as acts of legitimate political engagement than as protesting for the sake of it, these young
people’s actions could be dismissed and ultimately contained as juvenile posturing.
Appropriating youth-oriented American
ilms to discredit segments of Czechoslovak
youth continued unabated albeit using different ilms for diferent reasons.
Deviant subcultures, anodyne alternatives, and musical movies
In the late 1970s, the CFD mainly used
youth-oriented American imports, musical movies to be exact, as anodyne alternaFig. 4 he Czechoslovak Poster for
tives to subversive subcultures. By mid
The Strawberry Statement
decade, the Czechoslovak Communist
Party was convinced that several subaltern
music scenes were leading otherwise upstanding young people into un-socialist thinking. Chief among the culprits, it felt, were
rock, punk, and “underground” — a form of psychedelic rock that developed in
Czechoslovakia in the 1960s — all of which operated beyond the Party’s purview due to
holding events at unlicensed venues.53) As the agenda of the Committee for Working with
Youth and a conference held in Moscow in 1983 both demonstrated,54) the Party feared
that, what it saw as, anti-socialist provocateurs would grow in numbers, initiating
a groundswell of calls for reform. Whereas the Party’s concerns had primarily been directed at students following their protests in the late 1960s, now both its Committee for
Working with Youth and ilm experts identiied another vulnerable segment of the population. Young male trade apprentices were deemed at-risk on the rather patronizing
grounds that their supposed intellectual limitations made them particularly susceptible to
the “patently anti-socialist” values of the music subcultures.55)
Where scholars have explained how such concerns led the Czechoslovak Communist
Party to crack down on these formations, we must also recognize that it employed less op52) Anon., ‘Jahodová proklamace’, Filmový přehled, 14 May 1976; L. Oliva, ‘Proklamace a protesty ve ilmu USA’,
Kino, 1 June 1976, p. 3.
53) Vaněk, Byl to jenom, p. 342.
54) Ibid., pp. 338–342.
55) ‘Některé poznatky o současném působení buržoazní propagandy a ideologické diverze na mladou generaci
hodnocení období 1980–84 ‘, Komise ÚV KSČ pro práci s mládeží, 4. schůze, 22. 2. 1984, NA, A AÚV KSČ,
f. 10/10.
54
Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
pressive strategies.56) It is clear that the Party directed charges of low quality and social failure at the musical genres around which these subcultures were built. For one, it accused
them of failing to fulill socialist culture’s function of enriching citizens through “the beauty of music, words, and human movement”, and of preventing the social engagement and
collectivism art was meant to foster.57) hese styles were accused of sounding “ugly” due to
their “repetitiveness, primitiveness, and monotony”, of being escapist because their “antisocialist lyrics spread nihilism and hopelessness”, and of promoting individualism.58)
However, the Party also sought to ofset the inluence of such formations by promoting
musical genres it felt posed no threat to State-socialism.
On the one hand, the CSF pushed ilms centered on state-approved genres of music
based on discourses of maturity, heritage, and quality. his practice can be traced back to
1973, when the CFD had used its rerelease of West Side Story (1961) to stress that the
ilm’s soundtrack fulilled the Socialist view of culture needing to enrich and enlighten citizens.59) he organization considered Leonard Bernstein’s show tunes so important that it
promoted them above the ilm’s themes of racial conlict (much like its US distributor had
done), which it could have easily invoked to spotlight American social injustice. he stateowned record label Supraphon issued West Side Story’s soundtrack and Kino printed
the sheet-music and Czech-language lyrics to the song “Tonight” in a manner reminiscent
of classical music.
he CFD pursued this strategy consistently in the early 1980s, when it released several ilms built around rock ‘n’ roll music. As with jazz, the authorities publically accepted
rock ‘n’ roll, on the grounds that its heritage imbued it with greater cultural value than
modern trends, whose own relationships to earlier styles were conveniently sidestepped
due to their dissenting fan bases.60) he CFD posited the superiority of rock ‘n’ roll, with
copy advertising for American Hot Wax (1978/1982) claiming that the genre’s true
worth had become “more apparent with the passing of time”.61) Similarly, the biopic Elvis
(1979/1982) was advertised on the esteem in which this performer was held by other musicians. Presley was placed on a pedestal alongside another favorite of the authorities,
Louis Armstrong, whom they had invited to play in Prague. Moreover, because state-controlled theaters were easier to supervise than the clubs and private premises which
hosted gigs, it would appear that the Central Distribution Company sought to draw youth
to the former. It did so by promoting rock ‘n’ roll movies such as American Hot Wax
and Let’s Spent the Night Together (1982) in a manner which likened them to live
concerts.
Conversely, the CFD drew on the Party’s view that some forms of popular culture were
useful “if not for their artistic merit, then their capacity to connect with people, especial56) Vaněk, Byl to jenom.
57) ‘Zpráva o současném stavu zábavné hudby a opatření ke zvýšení její ideové úrovně’, NA, A ÚV KSČ, Praha
— komise; NA, Fond Ministerstva kultury (hereater f. MK ČSR), folder 129.
58) Vaněk, Byl to jen, p. 245.
59) L. Oliva, ‘Romeo, Julie a West Side Story’, Kino, 12 September 1973, p. 6.
60) he Party’s tolerance of jazz led to the wide release of ilms featuring this style of music, including All that
Jazz (1979).
61) mim., ‘V zajetí hudby’, Filmový přehled, no. 7 (1982), p. 23.
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ly the young”, when it purposed American
disco ilms to counter the unsanctioned
subcultures.62) At this time, the Party felt
that some low genres and performers could
be “interpolated into ideological policy”.63)
he Communist Parties of Eastern Europe
largely accepted disco music and the venues playing it.64) By the late 1970s, even
Moscow had embraced acts like Boney M
and their numerous homegrown imitators.65) Disco music was also a mainstay
of Czechoslovakia’s state-controlled night
clubs, with Party-ailiated composers and
songwriters such as Jaroslav Machek, Karel
Svoboda, and František Ringo Čech penning anodyne lyrics, which the authorities
endorsed. Čech’s “Diskotéka” (1978) even
advanced the oicial party line on disco
with lyrics such as “guess where we’re going
Fig. 5 he Czechoslovak Poster for Saturday
to dance tonight, enjoy ourselves, and sing?
Night Fever
Guess where we’re going to have a good
time, and celebrate your sixteenth birthday? At the discotheque”.66) he CFD therefore took great interest in the blockbuster Saturday Night Fever, promoting the ilm on
its soundtrack, star, and portrayal of disco culture.67) Promotional taglines read “John
Travolta in the American Music Film — Music, the Bee Gees, and the Brooklyn King of
the Discotheque” (see Figure 5). he Czechoslovak campaign therefore came close to that
which Paramount Pictures used for Saturday Night Fever’s 1979 US rerelease, when it
was framed as an anodyne musical akin to Grease (1978), rather than the hard-edged
62) ‘Zpráva o plnění Realizační směrnice a další úkoly ideologické činnosti strany, projednané na 2. Schůzi
ideologické komise ÚV KSČ konané dne 17. června 1970’, NA, A ÚV KSČ, f. 1261/1/15, folder 1, AU 2, note,
0, l. 6.
63) Ibid.
64) On disco music in other Soviet satellites see for example Karin Taylor, Let’s Twist Again: Youth and Leisure
in Socialist Bulgaria (Münster: LIT Verlag, 2006).
65) Vasily Shumov, ‘he golden era of Soviet discos’, Russia & India Report, 16 September 2013. <http://in.rbth.
com/arts/2013/09/16/the_golden_era_of_soviet_discos_29399.html> [accessed 17 November 2014]; Sergei
I. Zhuk, ‘he “closed” Soviet society and the west: the consumption of the western cultural products, youth
and identity in the Soviet Ukraine during the 1970s’, in Marie-Janine Calic, Dietmar Neutatz and Julia
Obertreis (eds), he Crisis of Socialist Modernity: he Soviet Union and Yugoslavia in the 1970s (Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011), pp. 96–99.
66) Original lyrics: “Kampak půjdem dneska večer tančit, radovat se, zpívat, no tak hádej / kam se půjdem
dneska bavit a tvých šestnáct slavit, no tak hádej — diskotéka”. Discobolos — Diskotéka, <https://www.
youtube.com/watch?v=ExDQlUUDggI> [accessed 28 November 2014].
67) ‘Distribuční list 163/79, 30.08.1979’, NFA, Sbírka reklamních materiálů; ‘Horečka sobotní noci’, C/1886/
98218, NFA, Sbírka reklamních materiálů.
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
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subculture ilm it was initially sold as being.68) he CFD also used Xanadu (1980/1985),
an incoherent tale of a young couple renovating a roller disco, which Filmový přehled
dubbed a “fairytale which pulses to a disco beat”,69) as a cinematic equivalent to state-sanctioned musical venues. his approach stood in direct contrast to the ilm’s US marketing
campaign, which had underplayed its disco content to avoid association with what had become an unpopular trend stateside.70) Lobby cards also invited moviegoers to draw parallels to well-liked television variety shows such as Televarieté (1971–1998); the face of
apolitical entertainment under the Czechoslovak Communist Party. While central to the
CFD’s youth-oriented American releases at this time, the escapist qualities of musical
movies would become ever more salient as the 1980s drew to a close.
Depolitization, the female citizen-consumer, and musical movies
Toward the end of Communist rule, the CFD used several new American musical movies
to temper consumer frustration, positing the notion that, in spite of what they might
think, people were enjoying a period of liberalization. In reality, the 1980s was an especially challenging time for many Czechoslovaks. Perestroika, which had started to address
some of the social, cultural, and economic problems of the USSR, had yet to spread to this
Soviet satellite. Czechoslovakia’s planned economy was struggling, thus limiting the availability of goods and services, and restricting professional and leisure opportunities.71)
hese concerns were in part a sign of disenchantment at the Party’s strict control of oicial culture and the restrictions it placed on international travel.72) As domestic managers,
women experienced the former irsthand. hey were let especially disheartened, by,
among other things, a shortage of personal hygiene products and household supplies.73)
Young people felt particularly pessimistic however, with many hardliners predictably fearing these “bored youths” might fall into the clutches of underground subcultures.74)
he Czechoslovak Communist Party attempted to quell its citizens’ frustrations with
the promise of an improved form of State-socialism that would match the quality and variety of consumer goods available in the west. Yet, in spite of such rhetoric, the Party
68) See Richard Nowell, ‘Hollywood don’t skate: US production trends, industry analysis, and the roller-disco
movie’, New Review of Film and Television Studies, vol. 11, no. 1 (2013), p. 83.
69) mim., ‘Xanadu’, Filmový přehled, no. 6 (1985), p. 29.
70) Nowell, Hollywood don’t skate, p. 86.
71) Milan Sekanina, ‘Nedokončená: Československá ekonomika v druhé polovině 80. let minulého století’, Acta
Oeconomica Pragensia, vol. 15, no. 7 (2007), p. 338; Alexej Bálek, ‘Československá ekonomika v osmdesátých
letech 20. století’, Acta oeconomica pragensia, vol. 15, no. 7 (2007), pp. 45–54.
72) Lubomír Kopeček, ‘Cesta k listopadu: komunistický režim, společnost a opozice v éře normalizace’, in Éra
nevinnosti: Česká politika 1989–1997 (Brno: Barrister & Principal, 2010), p. 15.
73) Ibid.
74) J. Bílková, ‘Nejen o mládeži, nejen pro mládež’, Kino, 22 November 1988, p. 4; See also ‘Zpráva o populačním
vývoji ČSSR a návrh v postup v populační politice v dnešním období, 07.09.1982’, NA, f. ÚV KSČ 1945–1989
— Předsednictvo ÚV KSČ 1981–1986. On youth violence at the end of State-socialism see Ondřej Daniel,
‘Násilí československé mládeže na konci státního socialismu: Bezpečnostní riziko a téma společenské kritiky’, in Ondřej Daniel, Tomáš Kavka, and Jakub Machek (eds), Populární kultura v českém prostoru (Praha:
Karolinum, 2013), pp. 274–290.
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showed little commitment to meaningful change, hoping it might placate the people by
depoliticizing the cultural sphere.75) Consequently, the CFD deemphasized ideological education and instead suggested it was treating citizens less as subjects than as media consumers.76) he organization hoped that by diversifying output it could present cinema as
proof positive of the liberalizing processes which supposedly set apart 1980s Czechoslovakia
from the normalization of the previous decade. In this respect, it made important symbolical gestures by releasing ilms that dealt with hitherto unacceptable subjects or that had
been made by blacklisted talent or which it had banned following the protests of the
1960s.77) For instance, the CSF issued Hair (1979), a picture directed by Miloš Forman —
persona non grata following his defection to the United States — which portrayed the
once demonized hippie as an agent of positive social change.
Bypassing oicial notions of art as obligated to provoke intellectual, social, and political stimulation, the CFD suggested that some musical movies ofered Czechoslovaks
a temporary escape into fantasy. For example, this notion was thematized in the CSFproduced Discopříběh (1987), a self-relexive musical about one of the disillusioned
Czechoslovak youths described above retreating into upbeat pop songs. It was also central
to the CFD’s handling of newly imported American musical movies whose marketing
campaigns in large part echoed those used to sell them in the United States. Consequently,
a measure of otherworldliness was suggested by print advertizing for Dirty Dancing,
which retained the English-language term “Dirty Dance” in an otherwise Czech-language
tagline translated as “he Story of Love in the Style of ‘Dirty Dance’”. he notion of a temporary withdrawal from the frustrations and banality of everyday life was conveyed iconographically as well, with promotional posters setting dirty dancers against a palm tree. In
conjunction with the Miami Vice (1984–1990) style of the poster, this imagery summoned not the ilm’s rural upstate New York setting but Florida beach resorts which travel restrictions had rendered unreachable to almost all Czechoslovaks (see Figure 6).
Much like American distributors, the CFD also suggested that such ilms ofered
Czechoslovaks romance and titillation. It therefore underplayed Dirty Dancing’s letist
subtext of generational and class conlict,78) and its themes of coming-of-age, in favor of
spotlighting a love afair between a teenager and her dance instructor. Similarly, it pitched
Flashdance as “a story of love, jealousy, and misunderstanding between paramours”.79)
What is more, where Filmový přehled announced Dirty Dancing featured “the most
erotic dance” ever seen and that the ilm elicited an erotic charge “second only to lovemaking”,80) marketing materials emphasized Flashdance’s “erotic and dynamic dance num75) Kopeček, ‘Cesta k listopadu’, pp. 10–22;
76) Aleš Danielis and Radko Hájek, ‘Film a divák (I)’, Film a doba, no. 1 (1989), p. 24; Aleš Danielis and Radko
Hájek, ‘Film a divák VII, Francouzské a italské ilmy’, Film a doba, no. 7 (1989), p. 394; Danielis and Hájek,
‘Film a divák X. Nové světy’, p. 557; Jiří Tvrzník, ‘Znovu do kin’, Kino, 25 April 1989, pp. 4–5.
77) On the impact of liberalization on ilm distribution see Tvrzník, ‘Znovu do kin’, pp. 4–5; Helena Hejčová,
‘Rozhovor s ústředním dramaturgem ÚPF dr. Aloisem Humplíkem’, Kino, 8 December 1989, pp. 3–4.
78) For discussions of the political dimensions of Dirty Dancing see various contributions to Yannis Tzioumakis
(ed.), he Time of Our Lives: Dirty Dancing and Popular Culture (Detroit: Wayne State University Press,
2013).
79) mim., ‘Flashdance’, Filmový přehled, no. 7 (1987), p. 9.
80) mf., ‘Hříšný tanec’, Filmový přehled, no. 8 (1989), p. 5.
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
bers”.81) In both cases, the emotional and
corporeal pleasures these ilms purportedly excited were framed as expressions of
young women’s growing sense of self-conidence.82) For example, both promotional
materials and Kino magazine positioned
Flashdance’s leading lady Jennifer Beals
and her character as strong, independent
role models.83) As the benefactor of such
depoliticized entertainment, the CSF in
turn positioned itself, and, by extension,
the Party it represented, as newly openminded, permissive even; as a benevolent
regime beitting a new age of reform.84)
Conclusion
Where historians have shed considerable
light on why some European elites harbored concerns about the themes and inluence of certain American teen ilms, this
essay has shown that the CSF via its distribution branch the Central Film Distributor appropriated other youth-oriented US imports to advance various aspects of its late Cold War agenda. his institution initially used
Rebel without a Cause to make the case that young people’s calls for social and economic reform were less legitimate protests against a lawed political system than a failure
of parenting, and that parents rather than the state should prevent further outbursts of
what the Party cast as juvenile delinquency. hereater, it released a series of American
counterculture ilms in order to suggest that young people felt alienated from capitalist democracy, and that youthful grievances stateside were directed at problems that did not exist under State-socialism. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the CFD appropriated several
American musical movies as a means of promoting what it deemed to be benign genres
like disco and rock ‘n’ roll as alternatives to indigenous musical subcultures that were
thought to incubate antiauthoritarianism and dissent. By 1989, the ilm monopoly disseminated other musical movies to suggest that their status as sexy, escapist fantasies exempliied a newly liberalized cultural sphere, one geared to quelling growing frustration
among the general population, especially women. hese four strategies reveal that the CSF
did not just release the occasional American youth ilm begrudgingly to placate audience
Figure 6 he Czechoslovak poster for Dirty
Dancing (1987)
81)
82)
83)
84)
mim., ‘Flashdance’, p. 9.
Jf., ‘V tanečním rytmu do hlubin hříchu’, Kino, 8 December 1989, pp. 8–9.
kra., ‘Jennifer Beals’, Kino, 20 June 1989, p. 16.
mf., ‘Hříšný tanec’, p. 5; On titillation in Czechoslovak ilm marketing see Havel, ‘Hollywood a normalizace’,
p. 60.
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demands for entertainment, but that this Communist institution systematically embraced
such fare as a means of promoting its own political interests.
he roles youth-oriented American imports played in the audiovisual culture of Cold
War Czechoslovakia obviously exceeded those related to Communist cultural policy.
Films like The Strawberry Statement, Saturday Night Fever, and Dirty Dancing
were also prominent in the cultural experiences of many Czechoslovak moviegoers.
Examinations of the contemporaneous popular reception of these ilms and others like
them, along with their construction and functions in popular memory, therefore promise
to enrich the indings of existing studies of leisure under State socialism, which have concentrated on television, music, and on the practice of retreating to weekend cottages.85) If
this essay has identiied how and why the CDF pitched youth-oriented American ilms to
Czechoslovak audiences, new research might consider how those audiences actually consumed and used them, and their recollections of such conduct. In so doing, such studies
are likely to complement this essay’s contribution to our understandings of American imports’ places in cultural, social, and political life behind the iron curtain.
Films Cited:
All that Jazz (Bob Fosse, 1979); American Hot Wax (Floyd Mutrux, 1978); he Cremator (Juraj Herz,
1968); Discopříběh (Jaroslav Soukup, 1987); Dirty Dancing (Emile Ardolino, 1987); Elvis (John
Carpenter, 1979); Erste Liebe (Maximillian Schnell, 1970); he Firemen’s Ball (Miloš Forman, 1967);
Five Easy Pieces (Bob Rafelson, 1970); Flashdance (Adrien Lyne, 1983); he Green Berets (Ray
Kellogg and John Wayne, 1968); Hair (Miloš Forman, 1979); Holky z porcelánu (English-language
Translation: “Girls from a Porcelain Factory”; Juraj Herz, 1975); It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
(Stanley Kramer, 1963); Jak svět přichází o básníky (English-language Translation: “How the World
Looses Poets”; Dušan Klein, 1982); Let’s Spent the Night Together (Hal Ashby, 1982); Metráček (Josef
Pinkava, 1971); Miami Vice (Anthony Yerkovich, 1984–1990); Můj brácha má prima bráchu
(English-language Translation: “My Brother has a Great Brother; Stanislav Strnad 1973); O ljubvi
(English-language Translation: “About Love”; Michail Bogin, 1970); Rebel without a Cause (Nicholas
Ray, 1955); Saturday Night Fever (John Badham, 1977); Sněženky a machři (English-language
Translation: “Snowdrops and Dabs”; Karel Smyczek, 1982); he Strawberry Statement (Stuart
Hagmann, 1970); Summertree (Anthony Newley, 1971); Televarieté (1971–1998); Tenderness
(Vlyublyonnye; Elyer Ishmukhamedov, 1970); Trzeba zabić tę miłość (English-language Translation:
“To Kill Love”; Janusz Morgenstern, 1972); Třicet panen a Pythagoras (English-language Translation:
“hirty Maidens and Pythagoras”; Pavel Hobl, 1975); West Side Story (Gerome Robbins/Robert
Wise, 1961); Xanadu (Robert Greenwald, 1980).
85) See Jiří Hoppe, ‘Starosti pana Nováka. Každodenní život “obyčejného” člověka v šedesátých letech’, Dějiny
a současnost, vol. 1, no. 3 (2005), pp. 35–38; Blanka Činátlová, ‘Invaze barbarů do české kultury:
Antropologický rozměr domácího umění’, in Petr A. Bílek and Blanka Činátlová (eds), Tesilová kavalérie.
Popkulturní obrazy normalizace (Příbram: Pistorius & Olšanská, 2010), pp. 154–165; Jiří Knapík et al. (eds),
Průvodce kulturním děním a životním stylem v českých zemích 1948–1967 (Praha: Academia, 2011).
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Jindřiška Bláhová – Richard Nowell: “If not for their Artistic Merit then their
Capacity to Connect with People”
Jindřiška Bláhová is an Assistant Professor at the Department of Film Studies, Charles University
in Prague, and editor-in-chief of the Czech ilm magazine Cinepur. In addition to having published
widely in her native Czech, she served as a guest editor of Iluminace on special issues devoted to
Postfeminism, to Banned Films in Eastern European Cinema, and to Film Festivals. Her articles on
the relationships between Hollywood and Eastern Europe can also be seen in Film History, Post Script,
and the Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television (contact: jindriska_blahova@yahoo.com).
Richard Nowell teaches American Cinema at the American Studies Department of Charles
University in Prague. he author of Blood Money: A History of the First Teen Slasher Film Cycle
(Continuum, 2011) and the editor of Merchants of Menace: he Business of Horror Cinema
(Bloomsbury, 2014), he has published widely on American youth-oriented cinema of the 1970s and
1980s in journals such as Cinema Journal, Post Script, the Journal of Film and Video, and the New
Review of Film and Television Studies (contact: richard_nowell@hotmail.com).
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SUMMARY
“If not for their Artistic Merit then their Capacity
to Connect with People”:
Czechoslovak Communists, Late Cold War Cultural Policy,
and Youth-oriented American Films
Jindřiška Bláhová and Richard Nowell
his essay examines the Czechoslovak State Film Company’s (CSF) handling of youth-oriented
American imports including Rebel without a Cause (1955), Saturday Night Fever (1977),
and Dirty Dancing (1987) in the late Cold War period. From an analysis of cultural policy statements, press coverage, and promotional materials, the essay argues that this organization’s Central
Film Distributor (CFD) framed such ilms in four historically situated ways relecting changes in
Czechoslovak Communist Party cultural policy: blaming parents for student unrest, demonizing
American capitalist democracy, undermining subversive indigenous subcultures, and suggesting
the liberalization of the cultural sphere. he authors posit that these approaches were rooted in important social and political developments of the late 1960 and were informed by conditions characterizing the period in which they were widely adopted. To date, historians have emphasized the concerns European claims-makers expressed about youth-oriented American fare in the second half of
the twentieth century. By contrast, the case of the CSF and the CFD not only develops understandings of this organization, but also reveals that some European elites drew fairly positive conclusions
about this type of ilm.
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Valerie Wee
“Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
Traditional Media Targets the Digital Youth Generation
Following the series premiere in 2009, Glee (2009–2015) rapidly developed into a fully
ledged multimedia franchise encompassing soundtrack albums, a reality series, clothing
and accessories, and a series of live concerts subsequently repackaged in 2011 as Glee:
The 3D Concert Movie (hereater Glee 3D). his franchise is typical of a conglomerate’s exploitation of content and synergies in today’s multimedia entertainment environment.1) However, we must also recognize that the development of the property involved
negotiating changing technologies and audience expectations which characterized the
new millennium. Most signiicant in this respect was the proliferation of digital technologies that had begun in the 1990s.
his shit increased audience expectations of agency, interactivity, and direct involvement with the media they consume. It is especially true of a new generation of digitally
proicient young people born between 1995 and 2012, labeled variously as Gen Z, millennials, and the digital generation. Many of their ranks have been drawn to digital technologies’ promise of heightened opportunities for users to actively adapt and fashion their
own entertainment experiences. his generation also boasts high numbers of amateur media producers active in the (re-)production of content, oten through the appropriation of
copyrighted material. he changed behavior of a youth demographic long valued as media
consumers has had signiicant repercussions for the media conglomerates.2) It has signaled
1) For examinations of multimedia conglomeration and its impact on the strategic development of synergistic
content see Derek Johnson, Media Franchising: Creative License and Collaboration in the Culture Industries
(New York: New York University Press, 2013); William M. Kunz, Culture Conglomerates: Consolidation in
the Motion Picture and Television Industries (New York: Rowman & Littleield, 2007). For an exploration of
multimedia conglomeration and youth-oriented media in the late 1990s and early 2000s see Valerie Wee,
Teen Media: Hollywood and the Youth Market in the Digital Age (Raleigh, NC: McFarland, 2010).
2) See for example Elissa Moses, he $100 Billion Allowance: Accessing the Global Teen Market (New York: John
Wiley & Sons, 2000); Peter Zollo, Wise up to Teens: Insights into Marketing & Advertising to Teenagers (New
York: New Strategist, 1999); Lawrie Milin, ‘Where young viewers go (and ads Follow’, New York Times,
8 September 1998, unpaginated. http://www.nytimes.com/1998/09/08/arts/where-young-viewers-go-adsfollow-wb-network-with-narrow-focus-grows-20-percent.html [accessed Jan 5, 2015]; homas Doherty,
Teenagers and Teenpics: he Juvenilization of American Movies in the 1950s (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1988).
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
a need for producers, particularly those targeting youth, to rethink the ways they court
this tech-savvy cohort. his is especially true of those handling traditional media such as
ilms and broadcast television. he multimedia franchise that is Glee furnishes us with
a touchstone example of traditional media companies’ attempts to confront the opportunities and challenges of this new technological media environment and of the new generation of consumers prominent therein. Although many of their strategies have developed
from existing practices, the speciic adaptations applied to Glee ofer us important insights into the media industry’s responses to the changing commercial entertainment
landscape of the twenty irst century.
Accordingly, this article explores how the diferent components of the Glee franchise
reveal one media company’s attempts to negotiate this shiting terrain and the new behaviors and demands of young consumers. I consider how these conditions shaped a highproile Glee promotional campaign and the aforementioned Glee 3D ilm, speciically
how this campaign and the conventions of the concert picture were reworked so as to appeal to an audience demanding acknowledgement, engagement, and involvement. I show
that 20th Century-Fox Television (hereater FOX) cultivated such behaviors when, in 2009,
its Marketing and Communications division, along with its Online Content and Strategy
division, and Glee’s production company, Ryan Murphy Productions, devised a campaign centered on the search for “the biggest Gleek” or fan of the property. his campaign
encouraged the participation of interested youth, and harnessed their labor to promote
the television series. It used digital communications technologies to construct a fan identity characterized by discourses of competition; to prove oneself the most dedicated
Gleek, and ultimately to convert others. I also highlight how such eforts were paired with
the humanist ideals of Glee’s diegetic universe. To that end, this essay is divided into three
sections. he irst section overviews the contemporary media landscape, spotlighting key
diferences between traditional and new media, and explaining how digital technologies
have transformed the media experience. In the second section, I turn my attention to the
strategies with which the aforementioned decision-makers targeted millennials during the
launch of the Glee TV series. he third section considers how stakeholders in Glee 3D
modiied the conventions of the concert ilm to reach out to, and to capitalize on the labor
of, millennials through fan-centered segments positing the franchise’s humanist themes.
From traditional media’s passive consumer to new media’s (inter)active produser
Early scholarly comparisons of traditional and new media emphasized diferences, usually in binary terms.3) On the one hand, traditional media was typically perceived as
a “closed” system marked by high barriers of entry derived from their complex infrastructures, which required signiicant capital to maintain.4) It was also suggested that tradition3) See for example Kevin Kawamoto, Media and Society in the Digital Age (Boston, MA: Pearson, 2003), pp. 32–
–35. his early view has since given way to discussions of traditional and new media that acknowledge
a steady blurring of boundaries and distinctions between the two.
4) he ilm and television industries require huge inancial commitments to sustain production, distribution,
and exhibition. he cost of producing a Hollywood ilm or television series typically runs into tens of
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al media was diicult and expensive to produce,5) consumed on regulated schedules in
speciic venues via distinct devices, and ofered identiiably disparate experiences.6) By
contrast, new media was touted as open, democratic, and promising crossmedia “convergence” and easier access to and for content producers, distributors, and consumers.7)
Unlike traditional media, which is predicated on a model of mass communication whereby information lows from a single source to many passive recipients,8) new media’s largely unregulated structure and low barriers of entry allow for information to low from
countless sources to recipients. his shit has in turn given rise to the igure of the active
digital media user-consumer-producer, intent on exploiting the increased lexibility
aforded by these new technologies.
hese developments have changed the expectations, behaviors, and desires of consumers. Digital technologies have aforded such individuals greater freedoms in terms of how,
where, and when they consume entertainment; a situation which itself has incentivized
the development of new ways to engage with media products. he impact new digital
technologies had on traditional media, especially television, has also received notable
scholarly attention. For example, Amanda Lotz, heresa Rizzo, and Graeme Turner all
considered the extent to which digitization transformed this particular medium, arguing
that television’s traditional associations with domesticity, family viewing, and regimented
consumption have diminished in recent years, and must therefore be rethought.9) he digital era is thus populated by viewers driven by personal schedules, heightened control, and
self-determination, and who utilize the technology’s capacity to overcome spatial and
temporal diferences to enable viewers to imagine communities built around shared interests and commitments to particular material; “tribes of ainity”, as Lotz called them.10) In
examining the efects of digital technology on television, Rizzo shows that consumers now
enjoy unprecedented levels of “personalization, customization and individualization”.11)
She also argues that they have adopted a “playlist” model so as to interact with content that
need “not result in social isolation, but rather the opposite: [it] encourages sharing and
5)
6)
7)
8)
9)
10)
11)
millions of dollars, as does the price of maintaining both national and international distribution networks.
he operating budgets of exhibitors — whether multiplexes or television stations — are also high.
Film, television, and music production typically involves numerous individuals, the use of expensive, hightech equipment, and specialized talents and expertise.
For instance, ilms are traditionally experienced in a movie theatre, while television is characterized as a domestic medium at one time accessed only via the television set.
his is not to suggest new media is entirely responsible for the collapse of media-speciic distinctions. he
rise of media intersections and hybrids preceded the rise of new media, motivated by the rise of media conglomerates and their synergistic practices. However, developments in new media have catalyzed media-content and aesthetic convergences.
In labeling traditional media’s audiences “passive”, I refer to their inability to control how, when, and where
they consume these media, not their ability to critically engage with media texts.
See Amanda Lotz, he Television will be Revolutionized (New York: New York University Press, 2007);
heresa Rizzo, ‘Programming your own channel: an archeology of the playlist’, in Andrew T. Kenyon (ed.)
TV Futures: Digital Television Policy in Australia (Melbourne: University of Melbourne Press, 2007); Greame
Turner, ‘Convergence and divergence: the international experience of digital television’, in James Bennett
and Niki Strange (eds), Television as Digital Media (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2011),
pp. 31–51.
Lotz, he Television will be Revolutionalized, p. 246.
Rizzo, ‘Programming your own channel’, p. 112.
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
tap[s] into the desire for communities”.12) Both scholars posit a new generation of viewers
whose expectations of television have shited away from one bounded by passivity, spatiotemporal constraints, and industry control, towards activeness, freedom, and self-determination.
In a related development, digitization has encouraged user-consumers to expect greater interactivity and input than heretofore.13) he millennials who came of age in the digital era have developed behaviors and preferences that shape their understanding of what
constitutes entertainment. New media’s “democratic” access, in conjunction with afordable user-friendly sotware, has made it easier for them to participate in some forms of production. Going digital allows such viewers to “customize” and generate their own content,
and to distribute the fruits of the labor across online platforms. Hence the coining of portmanteau terms such as “produser”14) (conjoining “producer” and “user”) and “prosumption” (“production” and “consumption”).15) Reworking and disseminating copyrighted
content and information for their own and others’ pleasure, contemporary produsers
prompted Joshua Green to observe that television in the digital age is ideally suited to, and
actively address, the needs of fans.16) his situation consequently broadened the range of
creative activity taking place outside the control of the major media corporations.
As they began to repurpose content and distribute their eforts, produsers ran afoul of
the content owners from whom they were poaching. he media industrie’s early responses to this activity were oten hostile. Before the 2000s, they typically reacted to such conduct by issuing cease and desist letters.17) However, these companies came to accept that
digital media, and more recently social media, might be mobilized to generate audience
interest. his realization prompted them to position “their creative texts to plug into preformed fandoms and pre-established online cultures and communities”.18) Consequently,
the industry’s ever more pointed cultivation of fans communities, along with the creative
and interactive opportunities of digital platforms and interfaces, has resulted in a surge of
produser activity. hese developments coincided with a rise in audience expectations to
interact directly with personnel and performers,19) and participate — however marginally
— in the creative process. It is therefore increasingly common for creative practitioners to
12) Ibid., p. 114.
13) For discussion of the emergence of these (inter)active media consumers/fans and the need to reconceptualize this media-audience interaction through an “engagement-based model” see Henry Jenkins, Sam Ford,
and Joshua Green, Spreadable Media (New York: New York University Press, 2013), p. 116. See also
Kawamoto, Media and Society in the Digital Age.
14) Axel Bruns, Blogs, Wikipedia, Second Life, and Beyond: From Production to Produsage (New York: Peter
Lang, 2008).
15) Don Tappscott and Anthony D. Williams, Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything (New
York: Portfolio, 2006).
16) Joshua Green, ‘Why do they call it TV when it’s not on the box? “new” television services and old television
functions’, Media International Australia no. 126 (2008), p. 103. While fans have historically “poached” professionally produced media content, using and transforming it to serve their own purposes and pleasures,
these earlier activities have oten been personal and restricted to small communities. See Henry Jenkins,
Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture (New York: Routledge, 1992).
17) Jennifer Gillan, Television and New Media: Must Click TV (New York: Routledge, 2011), p. 3.
18) Ibid.
19) Entertainment producers and stars commonly use social media such as Twitter to update fans on their latest projects and activities. Elizabeth Ellcessor examines how online media creator, writer, and actor Felicia
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involve fans in this process, by tweeting updates, posting Instagram photos, or soliciting
feedback on content.20) Companies ofering targeted publics the chance to contribute to
the production and assembly of their media products are thus otentimes better positioned to capture the interest of millennials and exploit their willingness unwittingly to
serve as unpaid creative labor.21)
hese new media platforms challenge Hollywood because it remains uncertain about
how to utilize them or whether it is commercially viable to do so. he challenges digital
media poses to traditional platforms have predictably led to fears of a looming crisis.
Several reports highlighted a marked decline in youth consumption of commercial media
entertainment supplied by traditional platforms. For example, S. Craig Watkins reported
that 52% of the young people he surveyed “agreed that there are Internet sites they must
visit every day”, whereas 60% did not consider watching network television a daily necessity.22) he partial shit to digital platforms is also said to have had a detrimental efect on
the ilm industry. Consequently, the trade paper Variety reported that in 2013 frequent
moviegoers in the powerful 18–24 year-old age group had fallen by 21% and 12–17-yearolds by 15%.23) his decline prompted speculation that youth audiences had started to
abandon traditional, industry controlled, forms of media for new ones, especially platforms ofering levels of agency and interactivity which gave these young people a heightened sense of participation, control, and ownership of the text. Cognizant of the challenges facing television networks’ pursuit of millennial youth, FOX and Glee’s other
stakeholders began formulating strategies to attract this hard-to-reach but potentially lucrative segment.
The GLEE phenomenon
he American media industries have long believed that young people prefer entertainment which acknowledges their experiences and lifestyles. As a consequence of such
thinking, youth-oriented fare tends to be quite formulaic, oten isolating a group of teen-
20)
21)
22)
23)
Day uses online activities to cultivate fans and generate media attention. While Day is a marginal media
practitioner compared to Hollywood talent, her activities furnish us with one example of how a professional involved in this sphere beneits from exploiting the opportunities provided by the internet and social media. See Elizabeth Ellcessor, “Tweeting @feliciaday: online social media, convergence, and subcultural stardom” Cinema Journal, vol. 51 no. 1 (2012), pp. 46–75.
his is not to suggest that fans usually exert a meaningful inluence over the creative or decision-making
processes. Rather, it appears fans are being ofered a heightened sense of involvement, one intended to feed
their sense of importance and to encourage them to develop a form of ownership over the show. hese attempts at fan cultivation and engagement are also apparent in the increasing importance of events such as
Comic Con, where producers and stars present ilmed content and answer fan queries as a means of generating interest in media products.
For an in-depth examination of Millennials’ interaction with and use of contemporary digital media see
S. Craig Watkins. he Young and the Digital (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009).
Watkins, he Young and the Digital, p. 16. Youths’ disinterest in daily television viewing threatens the networks, as traditional television viewing is founded on habit.
Andrew Stewart, ‘Number of frequent young moviegoers plummets in 2013’, Variety, 25 March 2014,
unpaginated. Variety, <http://variety.com/2014/ilm/news/number-of-frequent-young-moviegoers-plummets-in-2013-1201146426/> [accessed 27March 2014].
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
agers (many alienated or unpopular) from adult society through institutions like High
School. Its key themes typically concern the perennial challenge of surviving High School,
and related issues such as the formation of identity — oten in the face of bullying or peer
pressure, sexual exploration, and, in recent years, accepting non-heteronormative sexual
identities. his package also invariably centralizes music to convey the tone of such experiences.24)
Glee is therefore hardly innovative as a youth-oriented product in its depiction of
marginalized students joining an “uncool” Glee Club to spotlight humanistic concerns.
hus, during this series, the once popular football players Finn and Puck learn to ignore
their mocking teammates and embrace the pleasure of Glee Club. Meanwhile, Rachel,
a talented, ambitious, self-absorbed “diva-in-training” forms friendships with club members. Quinn, a pregnant and thus ostracized cheerleader, inds acceptance from the very
club she once previously ridiculed. And the somewhat efete Kurt receives support from
the club during a homosexual romance with another club member. hese events are
wrapped around dance performances to pop songs, hip hop tunes, power ballads, and
Broadway standards, which show the club’s members seeking validation by competing at
various events.25)
his combination of musical numbers and tales of ordinary people seeking acceptance
and validation by harnessing their untapped talent and dedication positioned Glee as
a successor to a number of hit television shows. For one, it was seen as a successor to competition based reality shows like American Idol (2002–), because it too thematized crating an authentic sense of self through music, performance, and the pursuit of stardom. At
the same time, its mixture of music and humanism called to mind earlier youth-centered
dramas such as Dawson’s Creek (1998–2003), Beverly Hills, 90210 (1990–2000), and
My So-Called Life (1994–1995). What is more, when combined with the notion of potential stardom, Glee evoked the successful tween-oriented properties Hannah
Montana (2006–2011), High School Musical (2006, 2007, 2008),26) and Camp Rock
(2008).
In contrast to these derivative features, FOX launched Glee under quite unusual circumstances. he show premiered at the close of the 2008/2009 primetime television season following the grand inale of American Idol. his was an eye-opening strategy insomuch as audience interest in Glee needed to be sustained across the three month gap
before it returned to screens that August. FOX took steps to ensure critics were wrong
when they predicted that young people would have forgotten about the show come August.
Over the summer, the company used its website and social media to build interest and loyalty to the property. Central to this practice was a contest named “Who is the Biggest
Gleek?” which Fox ran on its website and publicized on the social network services
Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter. his practice was not entirely novel as Dawson’s Creek
24) For a detailed discussion of the fundamental features of teen television see Wee, Teen Media, pp. 142–165.
25) Music has provided an efective means of attracting young viewers. The Dick Clark Show (1958–60),
MTV, and more recently, the online social network site MySpace, all embraced a music-focused format to effectively draw a youth audience/user/consumer.
26) While the irst two parts of the trilogy were made-for-cable ilms premiering on he Disney Channel, their
success prompted the third ilm to be released theatrically.
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had been targeted to teens through a website that sought to retain fan interest by providing updates on characters’ desktops and diaries.27) Similarly, Disney promoted High
School Musical by ofering tweens a free downloadable song and sotware needed to
make their own High School Musical videos. It also held a competition on MySpace offering graduating classes the chance to win a trip to a Disney resorts by completing various tasks online.28) However, Fox’s version of this practice involved fulilling millennials’
expectations for greater interaction and participation.
A detailed analysis of the “biggest Gleek” contest reveals the strategies FOX’s marketing and online content divisions adopted to connect with millennial youth. FOX directly
“hailed” young people, thereby explicitly acknowledging and interpolating them as active
participants in the show’s success, by asking “[w]ho is the biggest Gleek?” Millennials
were urged to form a community based on their dedication to Glee’s humanistic values of
self-respect, compassion, and acceptance of anything traditionally unpopular. his angle
encouraged them to align themselves with the marginalized characters featured in the series premiere and to compete for the title of “biggest” Glee fan as they went about unwittingly promoting the show.
his contest, like that of High School Musical before it, invited viewers to compete
for a prize. he opportunity to meet Glee’s cast could be won by exploring websites, posting self-produced material, and interacting with the likeminded. he campaign overtly
courted digitally savvy youth, by encouraging them to engage in creative online activities,
“link your ‘Biggest Gleek’ proile to your Facebook proile”, “[post] links of the day to your
online proile”, “[invite] friends to join the competition”, and so on. Glee’s promotional
activities therefore extended beyond pushing branded products towards production-oriented activities. Not only were young people encouraged to disseminate their Glee-related
proiles online, they were urged to base these on their dedication to Glee’s humanist
themes.29)
Furthermore, millennials were invited to help Glee become a hit; to become active, industry-recognized, valued advocates of the show. he Glee campaign thus adapted the
“audience-as-essential-participant” model which had contributed to American Idol’s
sizable fan base. It even marshaled the rhetoric of this singing competition’s repeated calls
to viewers to participate and therefore determine a contestant’s ranking by “calling in to
vote”. In this respect, copy advertising made similar appeals to youth, by fostering a sense
of ownership and responsibility. As Jenkins, Ford and Green note, in the contemporary
digital era, such “engagement-based models see the audience as a collective of active
agents whose labor may generate alternative forms of market value”. 30) Glee therefore represented another case of a network attempting to organize the online activities of a potential mass audience. his call to Gleekdom remained industry controlled insomuch as it
27) For a detailed study of Dawson’s Creek.com, see Wee, Teen Media, pp. 192–218.
28) For a detailed study of Disney’s promotion of these properties see Wee, Teen Media, pp. 166–191.
29) FOX’s cultivation of young people, and the company’s encouragement of their online activities and creative
practices, marks a reversal of the network’s earlier responses to The X-Files fansites, when the company
threatened legal action against those who created sites discussing and promoting this property. See Gillan,
Television and New Media, pp. 31–32.
30) See Jenkins, Ford, and Green, Spreadable Media, p. 116.
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
was a top-down enterprise. Yet, its endorsement of fan production and promotion indicated another step in the development of the fan-industry online relationship: FOX’s campaign stands as a carefully orchestrated attempt to whet millennials’ appetites before marshalling their labor.31)
he success of this campaign ensured that a sizable segment of the targeted youth audience embraced Glee when it returned for the 2009/2010 season. By the end of that season, Glee was the top rated show among 18–49-year-old females.32) It was also the third
most lucrative show that season based on advertising purchases, behind American Idol
and NBC Sunday Night Football (2006–).33) Despite relatively low overall ratings,
ranking 38 for the season with a 4.0 rating in the general 18–49 demographic,34) Glee’s
core youth audience was particularly attractive to advertisers, who paid between US$272,
694 and US$373,014 for a thirty second spot.
In light of these achievements, FOX extended the Glee experience to other media in
order to promote the show and create new proit centers such as branded merchandise.35)
Like predecessors such as Dawson’s Creek and High School Musical, Glee licensed
products included DVDs and Blu-Rays, novelizations, and soundtracks, while Macy’s and
Claire’s stores sold apparel across the United States.36) Moreover, in 2011, The Glee
Project — an American Idol-like show in which contestants competed for a role in
31) Fan labor is a complex issue, which has generated a fairly contentious relationship between fans and the industry that hopes to exploit them and their work. For insights into these conlicts see Alexis Lothian, ‘Living
in a den of thieves: fan video and digital challenges to ownership’, Cinema Journal, vol. 48, no. 4 (2009),
pp. 130–136; Julie Levin Russo, ‘User-penetrated content: fan video in the age of convergence’, Cinema
Journal, vol. 48, no. 4 (2009), pp. 125–130; Robert V. Kozinets, ‘Why brands suddenly need “fans”’, in Denise
Mann (ed.), Wired TV, (New Jersey, Rutgers University Press, 2014), pp. 161–175.
32) See Ann Donahue, ‘“Glee” throws lifeline to music industry’, Reuters, 13 December 2010, unpaginated.
Reuters, <http://in.reuters.com/article/2010/12/13/us-glee-idINTRE6BC0LL20101213> [accessed 12 May
12, 2014]. According to Josef Adalian, Glee “soared to just over 12 million viewers, its biggest audience sans
an American Idol lead-in ever. It was the No. 1 show of the night in the crucial under-50 demo (5.5 rating)
and was an instrument of destruction in women 18 to 34 (outdrawing ABC, NBC, and CBS combined
among that group)”. See Josef Adalian, ‘Your TV ratings explained: let’s hear it for Glee!’, Vulture,
23 September 2010, unpaginated. Vulture, <http://www.vulture.com/2010/09/your_tv_ratings_explained_
lets.html> [accessed 20 February 2014].
33) See Darren Franich, ‘“American Idol,” “Glee,” and football top the list of most expensive broadcast TV shows
for advertising,’ 18 October, 2010. Popwatch, <http://popwatch.ew.com/2010/10/18/american-idol-gleeand-football-top-the-list-of-most-expensive-broadcast-tv-shows-for-advertising/> [accessed 6 November
2014].
34) Bill Gorman, ‘Final 2009–10 broadcast prime-time show average viewership’, 16 June 2010, unpaginated.
TV by the Numbers, <http://tvbythenumbers.zap2it.com/2010/06/16/inal-2009-10-broadcast-primetimeshow-average-viewership/54336/> [accessed 6 November 2014].
35) For a discussion of television networks’ eforts to leverage youth-oriented shows beyond the boundaries of
the medium see Wee, Teen Media, chapters six and seven.
36) In addition to multiple volumes of Glee: he Music soundtrack albums, there were also collections of Glee
cover versions of speciic performers’ music (including Madonna), a Christmas album, a Dance music album, and a complication of ballads. All of these tracks were available for download on iTunes, a strategy
clearly acknowledging the consumer behaviors and preferences of the digital youth demographic. See
Donahue, ‘“Glee” throws lifeline to music industry’; T. L. Stanley, ‘Dress yourself in “Glee”: TV shows go
licensing crazy’, Los Angeles Times, 8 June 2010, unpaginated. Los Angeles Times, <http://latimesblogs.
latimes.com/showtracker/2010/06/glee-swag-hits-stores-in-fall-shows-tv-shows-licensing-crazy.html>
[accessed 10 June 2014].
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Glee — premiered on the Oxygen cable network.37) Like Disney’s Hannah Montana
and Camp Rock,38) there was also a summer concert tour Glee Live! In Concert!, which
featured cast members performing songs from the series, and a concert ilm. he latter
represented an attempt to extend returns from the concert tours by catering to fans
who had been unable to attend live events or those lucky few who simply wanted to relive
them.
he notions of becoming oneself the “biggest Gleek”, extolling the pleasures of Glee,
and converting others served to align each Glee branded product. his strategy freed the
franchise from needing to link media texts narratively, thereby distinguishing this property from many earlier instances of transmedia expansion.39) Rather, FOX intended for
Glee’s constituent texts to attract youth via the shared exhortation to be “the biggest
Gleek,” a notion which emphasized the construction of Gleekdom as a distinctive identity based on humanist ideals; a notion central to the handling of Glee 3D.
GLEE: THE 3D CONCERT MOVIE — celebrating the biggest GLEEks
Opening on 12 August 2011, Glee 3D received a limited two week theatrical release before the premiere of the series’ third season.40) As with the earlier version of the “biggest
Gleek” campaign, Glee 3D was designed to retain young people’s interest in the property during the show’s summer hiatus. Glee 3D conirmed FOX’s commitment to incorporating millennial youth into the entertainment product and experience by allowing them
to contribute to both. To appreciate why this approach was extended in a manner that addressed millennials’ desire for acknowledgement, engagement, and participation we must
consider how Glee’s creators sought to overcome the constraints of the concert ilm format that typically includes emphasis on stars, the blending of song and dance numbers
with backstage events, and the inclusion of fan testimonials. It is therefore necessary to ask
how stakeholders’ marshalling of fan labor in the guise of audience interaction was integrated into the concert ilm format.
37) Oxygen’s target demographic of young female viewers matches that of Glee. See Robert Seidman, “Oxygen
Media increases original programming by 50%’, 4 April 2011, unpaginated. TV by the numbers, <http://
tvbythenumbers.zap2it.com/2011/04/04/oxygen-media-increases-original-programming-by-26-in2011-launches-new-night-of-originals-on-sunday-june-12/88149/> [accessed 3 February 2014].
38) Disney’s Hannah Montana was promoted with a concert tour featuring the series’ star, Miley Cyrus,
which was then released as a 3D concert ilm with related CD releases. Disney replicated these practices with
stars of Camp Rock, he Jonas Brothers, who also headlined a concert tour, a concert ilm based on that
tour, and featured on CDs cross-promoting these various entertainment texts. See Wee, Teen Media, pp.
166–191.
39) Engagement-based transmedia links are not uncommon for Reality formats such as American Idol; however, Glee ofers an example of a ictional, narrative-based, series characterized by techniques more typical
of the reality format. I would like to thank one of my peer-reviewers for making this point. Jenkins, Ford,
and Green comment on the shit away from a narrative-based model of transmedia links to an engagementbased model, in which they cite Glee as an example. See Jenkins, Ford, and Green, Spreadable Media, p. 146.
40) Steven Zeitchik, ‘With “Glee” 3-D concert movie, Lea Michelle will sing on the big screen’, Los Angeles Times,
4 May 2011, unpaginated. Los Angeles Times, <http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/movies/2011/05/glee-3dlea-michell-ryan-murphy-movie.html> [accessed 11 June 2014].
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
he decision-makers behind Glee 3D replicated the TV show’s combination of musical performances and humanist themes, thereby reinforcing the typical Glee experience,
while advocating diversity and diference. However, Glee 3D all but jettisoned the narrative structure of the series. Instead, the bulk of the ilm showcased onstage musical numbers in which the cast of the show recreated well known performances from the series. he
ilm also featured brief backstage interludes of the cast in character, conducting vocal exercises, having makeup applied, and delivering sound-bites to camera. his material was
paired with testimonials in which fans declared their allegiance to individual characters,
or explained why they were “the biggest Gleek”, or stressed that thanks to Glee they were
more socially engaged and better understood diference.41)
Alongside this traditional concert ilm content were less typical segments directed by
the documentary ilmmaker Jennifer Arnold spotlighting three self-proclaimed “biggest
Gleeks” who personiied Glee’s message of celebrating diference, (self-)acceptance, and
peer-support. Janae is a high school cheerleader with dwarism, Josey struggles with the
autism spectrum disorder Asperger syndrome, and Trenton is an African American student who sufered discrimination because of his homosexuality. A combination of personal statements, interviews with friends and teachers, footage of their daily lives, and dramatized segments revealed their anxieties, challenges, and triumphs. Crucially, the trio
emphasized that Glee helped them build their self-conidence and ight for acceptance.
Each Gleek also related his or her challenges to those experienced by characters in
Glee.42)
Comprising almost one third of the ilm, these segments represent Glee 3D’s most
striking deviation from the conventions of the concert ilm. As demonstrated by contemporaries such as Michael Jackson’s This Is It (2009), Justin Bieber: Never Say Never
(2011), and Katy Perry: Part of Me (2012), such ilms typically bolster concert performances with documentary footage of the star performer. For example, both Perry’s and
Bieber’s ilms traced their respective stars’ rise to prominence, and ofered biographical insights by way of interviews with family, home videos, and “day-in-the-life” material. By
contrast, Glee 3D’s focus on the aforementioned Gleeks positioned them as deserving
the spotlight more than the returning cast members, so much so in fact that the professionals’ performances are interrupted to focus on the fans. he Gleeks became a featured
attraction, reinforcing the notion that they were as vital a component to the Glee text as
its traditional onscreen talent.
hese segments served additional functions however. hey extended the original TV
show’s humanistic themes, providing a voice for young people typically overlooked by
mainstream media. Glee 3D therefore ofered an — admittedly mediated — form of rec41) I would like to thank one of my peer-reviewers for bringing this to my attention.
42) For instance, Janae comments on how she related to the show’s “popular” characters, as she was part of her
high school cheerleading squad, and the more ‘marginalized’ characters, due to her dwarism. Josey praised
the show for giving the marginalized and unpopular a voice, one she appreciated as someone with Aspergers,
while also highlighting how Glee served as the means for her to bond with other Glee fans based on their
shared love of the show. Trenton discusses how he survived the high school bullying and ostracism which he
experienced when his homosexuality became known, by identifying with the struggles, hardships, and triumphs that Kurt, one of Glee’s homosexual characters, experienced.
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ognition such individuals are usually denied. By representing these Gleeks believably, and
by presenting their experiences in the style of a documentary, Glee 3D acknowledged
their marginal status while validating their struggles and achievements. Taken as a whole,
these testimonies — and those of others used to support them — maintained and reinforced the notion of Gleeks comprising a special community. Being a Gleek was thus associated with empathy, compassion, and rooting for underdogs, which, although not alien
to youth-oriented media, is rarely presented in a documentary style or articulated on the
screen by actual teens.
Yet, these strategies also served distinctly corporate and thus commercial functions.
By ensuring that the ilm and the franchise to which it belonged allowed young people directly to participate in the Glee universe, they showcased the property’s relevance to
youth. Foregrounding fans’ proud, insistent proclamations of the roles this franchise
played in their lives enabled decision-makers behind the property to undermine charges
that this series was a cynical exercise in exploiting the young, even though doing so cannot avoid supporting such claims. By interpolating Gleeks into the texts, stakeholders
could indeed capitalize on fans seemingly tireless eforts not only to promote the Glee experience, but also to be a part of the product. As with the appropriation of fan labor in the
promotion of the TV series, Glee 3D supports Mark Andrejevic’s assertion that such labor does little to challenge traditional media relations as it ultimately “[reinforces] social
and material relations”.43) While the feature ilm format prevented the degree of interactivity and creative productivity possible with digital media, Glee 3D nevertheless ofered its
own form of fan engagement, participation, and labor exploitation. It provided an additional opportunity for fans to declare their dedication to the series, to build a sense of
community, and even to share — and thus commodify — the sometimes painful oten
personal struggles faced by individuals such as Janae, Josey, and Trenton.44)
Produced on a budget of $9 million, Glee 3D ended its brief theatrical run with
a North American gross of $11.8 million.45) Commentators considered this a disappointing igure.46) It suggested once more that, in spite of their best eforts to cultivate millennial youth– and even to interpolate it into the entertainment text — traditional media producers continue to struggle to ind a reliable means of fully capturing this demographic.
However, we should not forget that this concert ilm may well have fulilled its principal
function of retaining fan interest and whetting fans’ appetites for the new series of Glee.
Immediately ater Glee 3D’s theatrical run had concluded, a third season of the show premiered to similar ratings as its much anticipated debut season, once again scoring 4.0 in
the coveted 18–49-year-olds demographic and successfully holding of audience attrition.
43) Mark Andrejavic, “Watching television without pity: the productivity of online fans’, Television and New
Media, vol. 9, no. 1 (2008), p. 43.
44) his is not to simplistically suggest that these individuals are strictly or solely victims of “big business” exploitation or that FOX and Glee’s other creators are primarily driven by unfeeling commercial motives.
Rather, I simply wish to highlight the complex nature of this youth-oriented entertainment enterprise.
45) Anon., ‘Glee: he 3D Concert Movie’, unpaginated, Box Oice Mojo, <http://www.boxoicemojo.com/
movies/?page=main&id=gleelive3d.htm> [accessed 20 November 2014].
46) Eric Ditzian, ‘“Glee”: Five reasons “3D Concert” sunk at the box-oice,’ 15 August 2011, unpaginated. MTV,
<http://www.mtv.com/news/1669059/glee-3d-concert-movie-box-oice/> [accessed 20 November 2014].
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
Conclusion
Glee ofers an instructive case study of the challenges facing the media entertainment industry as it confronts the opportunities and diiculties of the digital age. Stakeholders in
the property adopted many fairly standard strategies characteristic of an increasingly
transmedia world, by spinning of a media text across multiple platforms. However, they
also adapted a series of key strategies revolving around the speciic interests, behaviors,
and desires of digital youth. Many of their online strategies were adapted from existing
practice. heir one innovation, however, lay in the cooption of fan stories in place of the
stars’ proiles as part of a sustained commitment to integrate them into the show and related texts as active participants.47)
his commitment enabled the Glee franchise to deviate from the more common practice of transmedia production dominated by the narrative expansion of a universe and its
characters across various media texts. Glee instead embraced the strategies of its advertising campaign by expanding the quest for “the biggest Gleek” across multiple platforms.
he ictional developments explored in the television series did not feature in any of its
media spinofs. For example, Glee 3D divided its focus between the Glee concert featuring the TV show’s characters and documentary footage of the “biggest Gleeks”. Just as the
promotional campaign placed the “Biggest Gleek” at the center of its activities and attention, The Glee Project exploited unknowns seeking media attention and stardom. In
each case, it was the fan that was accorded a participatory role in a Glee spinof.
hese interrelated media texts and activities served as an efective marketing tool.
Seeking out the biggest Gleek ensured the extension of the series’ message of airmation,
self-conidence, and support of the Glee community. he mantra that diferent is OK was
repeated across multiple media products, alongside the exhortation to be yourself, face
down peer pressure and rejection, and follow your dreams. Such practice also allowed for
the exploitation of fans who appeared thrilled to be assimilated into the text/product, and
allowed themselves, their stories, and their labor to be utilized into the production, content, and marketing of Glee. hese activities ultimately married an ostensibly humanist
message with a commercial one.
here is no denying Gleekdom existed as a media-created and organized identity, one
which Gleeks appeared gleefully to embrace, at least going by the numerous admissions
found in Glee 3D. However, it is diicult to determine precisely where the boundary lies
between celebrating these fans and exploiting them for entertainment and capital gain.
hus, despite Glee’s ostensibly humanist messages of empowerment and agency, the media industry’s relations to fans are characterized by ongoing struggle in which top-down
manipulation is diicult to avoid.
47) I thank one of my peer-reviewers for pointing out that Glee’s emphasis on celebrating fan identity and humanist ideals while seemingly downplaying the show’s narratives and talent reads as an eicient strategy to
help counter the inherent challenges of a high school format characterized by the aging of on-screen talent
and the necessity to continually changing its characters.
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Films and Television Shows Cited:
American Idol (Various directors, 2002–); Beverly Hills, 90210 (Various directors, 1990–2000); Camp
Rock (Matthew Diamond, 2008); Dawson’s Creek (Various directors, 1998–2003), Glee (Various directors, 2009–); Glee: he 3D Concert Movie (Kevin Tanharoen and Jennifer Arnold, 2011); he Glee
Project (Various directors, 2011–); Hannah Montana (Various directors, 2006–2011); High School
Musical (Kenny Ortega, 2006); High School Musical 2 (Kenny Ortega, 2007); High School Musical 3:
Senior Year (Kenny Ortega, 2008); Justin Bieber: Never Say Never (Jon M. Chu 2011); Katy Perry:
Part of Me (Don Cutforth and Jane Lipsitz, 2012); his Is It (Kenny Ortega, 2009); My So-Called Life
(Various directors, 1994–1995); NBC Sunday Night Football (Various directors, 2006–).
Velerie Wee is an Associate Professor in the Department of English Language and Literature at the
National University of Singapore, and lectures on ilm and media studies. Her research areas include
teen culture and the American culture industries, horror ilms, and gender representations in the
media. Her work has appeared in Cinema Journal, Journal of Film and Video, Journal of Popular Film
and Television, and Feminist Media Studies. She is the author of two books, Teen Media: Hollywood
and the Youth Market in the Digital Age and Japanese Horror Film and their American Remakes:
Translating Fear, Adapting Culture.
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Valerie Wee: “Who is the Biggest Gleek?”
SUMMARY
“Who is the Biggest GLEEk?”
Traditional Media Targets the Digital Youth Generation
Valerie Wee
his article considers how the diferent components of the Glee franchise reveal one media company’s attempts to attract the valuable youth demographic amid shiting media and technological terrain, and the evolving entertainment demands and emerging new behaviors of young consumers in
the digital age. Speciically, I illustrate how 20th Century-Fox and Ryan Murphy Productions’ successful promotional strategy for the Glee television series — an online contest to discover “the biggest Gleek” (i.e. Glee’s most committed fan who was devoted to everything Glee-related, and dedicated to promoting and converting others into fellow fans) — would eventually shape the form and
content of a wider range of Glee spin-ofs, including Glee: The 3D Concert Movie. In examining
these developments, the article explores how this campaign and the conventions of the concert picture were reworked so as to appeal to an audience demanding acknowledgement, engagement, and
involvement. his investigation further reveals how these proit-oriented interests in cultivating and
exploiting fan labor is blended with (and camoulaged by) a discourse emphasizing humanist values
of inclusion, acceptance, and respect for self and others.
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Richard Nowell
Developing a Research Program in
Youth Cinema Studies and Revising
Generation Multiplex
An Interview with Timothy Shary
Timothy Shary is the author of Generation Multiplex: he Image of Youth in Contemporary
American Cinema (University of Texas Press, 2002; revised 2014) and Teen Movies:
American Youth on Screen (Walllower Press, 2005), as well as co-editor with Alexandra
Seibel of Youth Culture in Global Cinema (Texas, 2007). His work on youth cinema has
been published in numerous books and journals since the 1990s, including he Journal of
Film and Video, Film Quarterly, he Journal of Popular Culture, and he Journal of Popular
Film and Television. He has also edited Millennial Masculinity: Men in Contemporary
American Cinema (Wayne State, 2013) and will be the co-editor of Refocus: he Films of
Amy Heckerling with Frances Smith (Edinburgh, forthcoming). He is currently inishing
a book on aging in American cinema with Nancy McVittie, to be published by Texas in
2016.
———
My work in youth cinema studies began as a doctoral student in the Communication
Department at the University of Massachusetts in the mid-1990s. I wrote my irst paper on
a teen movie back in high school in 1985. It was on The Breakfast Club; a ilm that so
captivated me I was compelled to see it twice in one week, even taking notes in the theater (which I am sure made me feel especially brainy). Yet, I did not take on dedicated
thought about the genre until a decade later, when I was considering my dissertation
topic.
My primary reservation about pursuing teen movies before this time was that I knew
that many of my academic peers, and most of my potential employers, would not take the
topic seriously. his would turn out to be true; movies about children had inspired some
respected studies because little kids are endearing, but movies about adolescent issues
were — and still are — treated with snobbish scorn by many academics. I explained this to
one of my advisors at UMass, who told me that I needed to really like the topic, because it
would surround me for a few years, if not longer.
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Richard Nowell: Developing a Research Program in Youth Cinema Studies
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The Breakfast Club (1985)
Ater all, the reasons for taking on an earnest study of the genre were abundant. I knew
that teen movies would be appealing to students I taught. I also knew that this genre was
richly detailed with social commentary, and I knew that little substantial work had been
done outside of that written in the 1980s by David Considine and by homas Doherty.1)
By the 1990s, Jon Lewis and a few other authors were also showing how teen movies could
be appreciated, but, for a dissertation, I felt the pretentious push to advance some kind of
complete genre theory in order to make this fringe form seem more worthy.2)
What were some the challenges you encountered working in what at this point remained an
under-examined aspect of cinema?
As many dissertations will so conspire, I wrestled with a lot of theory, in both the ields
of ilm genre and youth studies, primarily advancing an ambition to see as many representative ilms as I could. Doherty had thoroughly covered ilms of the 1950s and 1960s,
and Considine was comprehensive until the early 1980s … and that was just when I saw
the genre taking on its latest relevance. At this time, teen sex romps had begun to replace
1) David Considine, he Cinema of Adolescence (Jeferson, N.C.: McFarland, 1985); homas Doherty, Teenagers
and Teenpics: he Juvenilization of American Movies in the 1950s (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1988).
2) Jon Lewis, he Road to Romance and Ruin: Teen Films and Youth Culture (New York: Routledge, 1992). See
also Jonathan Bernstein, Pretty in Pink: he Golden Age of Teenage Movies (New York: St. Martin’s Griin,
1997); Lesley Speed, ‘Tuesday’s gone: the nostalgic teen ilm’, Journal of Popular Film and Television, vol. 26,
no. 1 (1998), pp. 24–32; Elayne Rapping, ‘Youth cult ilms’, in Media-tions: Forays into the Culture and
Gender War (New York: South End Press, 1999), pp. 88–99.
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the wave of slasher ilms of the late 1970s, and were soon to be followed by John Hughes’s
sensitive middle-American kids in The Breakfast Club (1985) as well as other trends.
I wanted to start my study in the early 1980s and go to the present, planning to see every
teen ilm made in that time.
Little did I realize at irst that such an agenda would be unfeasible if only because
I could not possibly ind all the examples that I identiied. At that time, so-called search
engines for movies were scant, so I compiled my ilmography by combing through a wide
range of catalogs. I aligned with Considine in deining adolescent years as primarily the
teens; in wanting to incorporate junior high up to the start of college, I set my age range
for protagonists as 12 to 20 years of age. I also wanted to include some movies that were
not oten labeled for teens but were nonetheless about them, which necessitated tracing
young actors across numerous ilms that fell outside of the genre’s popular trappings. Ater
a few months devoted to this aspect of the project, my ilmography ran to about 1,000 examples. Yet, even with a few years of dedicated viewing thereater, I only managed to
screen about 420 of them, despite my best eforts raiding the video stores of western
Massachusetts. With equal levels of exhaustion and resignation, I reached a point where
I felt that my sample pool was at least suiciently large to provide general commentary,
and relevant enough to conduct closer readings.
In addition to incorporating a wide scope on the genre, I knew that many ilms about
teenagers used diferent conventions based on their subject matter and styles. his led me
to identify subgenres, which were easiest to codify in their most extreme incarnations —
the slasher (Friday the 13th /1980/, A Nightmare on Elm Street /1984/) and the sex
romp (Goin’ All the Way! /1982/, Private Resort /1985/) — yet at the same time it demanded more nuanced appraisal when looking at difuse topics such as delinquency (Less
Than Zero /1987/, Boyz N the Hood /1991/) and schooling (Lucas /1986/, Clueless
/1995/). And there had been a prominent wave of sci-i thrillers featuring teens (WarGames
/1983/, SpaceCamp /1986/); even if they were fading by the 1990s, this subgenre was at
least worth exploring for its intellectual phobias.
hus I settled on ive subgenres: school, which was generically difuse but elemental in
identifying teen characters; delinquency, with its wide scale of moral consequences; horror, which went beyond the stock slasher victims to the supernatural; science, still pertinent to 1990s youth; and love/sex, an awkward moniker I used to signify the even more
awkward complications of young romance. I sited through the hundreds of titles I had
uncovered in an efort to understand just how each ilm conveyed its particular subject
matter and how it served generic interests, demonstrating through this process the very
subjective and slippery nature of genre research that I had anticipated. he dissertation
reached an excessive length, which my committee kindly tolerated, and saw it to approve
in early 1998.
Could you explain the process of transforming this doctoral research into the irst version of
your book Generation Multiplex?
Soon ater graduating, I queried the major university presses in Film Studies to see if
any of them would be interested in publishing the manuscript as a book. While a few expressed interest, I was most impressed with the University of Texas Press, because their ac-
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Richard Nowell: Developing a Research Program in Youth Cinema Studies
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quisitions editor, Jim Burr, responded with an enthusiastic phone call. he document
I submitted for review, alas, was far too much like the original dissertation, despite my efforts to follow the publisher’s recommendations. My irst reviewer, who turned out to be
David Considine, made clear that the manuscript was still far too long and needed a clearer structure.
I edited it over the next year, and by the end of the year 2000, ater being reviewed by
Kathy Merlock Jackson, one of the notable authors on children in cinema, the revised version was ready for publication. As is customary in academic publishing, the book still
needed to be approved by the press’s editorial board, another hurdle that I cleared in early
2001 to make Generation Multiplex: he Image of Youth in Contemporary American
Cinema a reality. Soon thereater, I asked Considine to write the foreword, because he had
had such an inluence on both the ield and my own work. He generously agreed. he production process of the book still required many more months, as I acquired images and
went through copyediting before sending the entire package to Texas at the end of summer 2001. he inal phase before publication was the review of page proofs, which I did
with industrious detail, knowing that every word choice and punctuation mark would
soon be out of my control.
In many ways, letting the book pass from an ongoing project for six years into the ixed
result of a permanent volume was quite intimidating. A much higher level of responsibility set in for me when I thought of those readers who might take me to task on my claims,
like the many students I had taught in genre classes at UMass and Clark University; students who naturally had a vested interest in the representation of a population they felt
they knew well. I knew that scholars who published work on, for instance, silent or
European cinema, were not routinely challenged by recent teenagers.
Even ater the book arrived in late 2002, I could not quite feel comfortable that it was
complete, especially as I lamented that so many new movies about youth were appearing
and, in some cases, changing my ideas about past trends. I had expressed this sense of
frustration in my preface when I called out some of those titles in a disclaimer that voiced
my frustration at the continually evolving teen movie genre. his is of course an issue that
any critic of contemporary culture must face: you must agree to let the present study end,
even as the ield develops. Some of my tensions were at least relieved by the positive reviews that came out months later and more so when Jim Burr notiied me in 2004 that the
book had sold well enough to go into a second printing.
What led you to revise Generation Multiplex some years ater its initial publication?
By 2004, I had begun work on a more concise yet chronologically expanded history of
American movies about adolescence for Walllower Press, which would appear in 2005.3)
I had also been in discussion with a colleague from NYU, Alexandra Seibel, about co-editing a collection on the youth ilm from an international perspective, which had yet to be
done in English.4) I was fortunate to again work with Jim as my editor at Texas, and we saw
through on that anthology in 2007.
3) Timothy Shary, Teen Movies: American Youth on Screen (London: Walllower, 2005).
4) Timothy Shary and Alexandra Seibel (eds), Youth Culture in Global Cinema (Austin: University of Texas
Press, 2007).
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In subsequent years, I moved away from the topic of youth in movies and took on other projects, yet the turn of another decade had brought many more compelling ilms about
adolescence, as well as changes in the industry’s style and output of the youth genre.
Having seen the rise of many courses on teen ilms, I thought that a completely revised
and expanded edition of Generation Multiplex was warranted for the 2010s.
he thesis from the irst edition would remain essentially intact, and now it seemed
even more certain: “American ilms about youth are dynamically and diversely representative of adolescents, to the point that these ilms constitute their own genre and have engendered individual subgenres with particular and oten consistent codes for that representation.”5) So I would still examine ilms set in or around school, which tend to employ
one to ive recognizable character types, as well as teen horror ilms, which tend to care
less about characters and focus more on the types of abuse and murder portrayed in their
stories. Teen ilms about juvenile delinquency continued to employ a similar method of
concentrating on the crimes and misdemeanors of youth, and their etiology, while ilms
about young people having sex and falling in love continued to be preoccupied with moral messages about their perils and pleasures; in this case, I was happy to jettison the cumbersome “love/sex” label and simply call this subgenre “romance”. And I could reconsider
past releases while incorporating new ilms up to 2013.
What do you feel are the principal diferences between the two editions of Generation
Multiplex?
he most signiicant chapter change I wanted to make from the irst edition was the
elimination of the chapter on science ilms. he subgenre had declined by the end of the
1980s and was obsolete by the 2000s. For all the ongoing use of technology by children in
real life, the topic is now almost entirely elided by Hollywood, most likely because youth
do not ind it nearly as dramatic or as fearful as it was in the past. he novelty has certainly worn of, and today kids use computers and other machines (phones, pads, tablets) in
a seamless, conident connection to their personal lives.
A few sections of chapters also needed to be reconigured, or in the case of the “Patriotic
Purpose” category, excised. hese were ilms that I had listed as components of the delinquent subgenre in the 1980s. hey explored Reagan-era militaristic revolts by youth,
achieving warped infamy in examples such as Red Dawn (1984) and Iron Eagle (1986).
Yet, like the science subgenre, these ilms expressed topical concerns of the 1980s, and did
not see a revival ater the 9/11 attacks and the renewed jingoism of the George W. Bush
presidency.
Conversely, I wanted to expand certain sections. When I wrote about queer youth at
the start of the 2000s, there had been some burgeoning examples, but in the new decade
the topic was more common, with many ilms featuring queer protagonists and many ensemble ilms incorporating gay roles for supporting characters. Within the school subgenre, there had also been an evident efort to increase the realistic roles that girls have in athletics; at least 20 ilms have depicted girl athletes since 2000 compared to less than ive in
5) Timothy Shary, Generation Multiplex: he Image of Youth in American Cinema Since 1980 (Austin: University
of Texas Press, 2014), p. xiii. I made the slight title change to avoid using the ambiguous term “contemporary” again.
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he Twilight Series (2008–2012)
all the years before. Movies about proms had always fallen into a liminal space between the
other subgenres, while usually maintaining an emphasis on the dating ritual, so I felt that
they needed their own section within the romance chapter. Clearly, the realm of fantasy
had expanded enormously in recent years, especially with the success of the Harry
Potter series from 2001–2011 (which were US–UK co-productions), and then the
Twilight series (2008–2012); ilms that ostensibly fell within the horror subgenre, and
were now achieving wider popularity and cultural commentary than ever before.
I returned to my previous method of building the ilmography, which was now substantially aided by the Internet Movie Database (IMDb), although its “keywords” and plot
searches remained less than comprehensive. he IMDb system requires users to compile
these terms, which results in a great deal of subjective slippage and loss between categories, which meant that I needed to be even more diligent about including and excluding titles. he terms that I found most relevant were: adolescence, adolescent, coming-of-age,
high-school, junior-high-school, juvenile, middle-school, school, teen, teenage, teenager,
teen-angst, tween, 12-year-old, and youth. A number of ilms listed in the IMDb have never been released, or have had such limited releases that no descriptions are available.
I therefore only included ilms that had at least one external review.
How did the rise in academic interest in youth-oriented cinema ater the publication of the
irst edition of Generation Multiplex afect the new edition?
Along with the increased attention to the youth genre at the college course level came
further helpful scholarship in the ield, which I wanted to cover in the new edition. Murray
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Pomerance and Frances Gateward edited two youth cinema anthologies, the irst on girls
(2002) and the second on boys (2005).6) Other studies appeared on familiar topics such as
school movies (Bulman, 2004), girls (Hentges, 2006), and horror (Nowell, 2011), while
new approaches led to books on goth (Siegel, 2005) and queer boys (Dennis, 2006), as well
as appreciations of teen movies in the 1970s (Brickman, 2012) and Generation X (Lee,
2010).7) Meanwhile, starting in 2008 at Brigham Young University, Mark Callister was part
of prodigious sociological research on youth movies, both as an author and a supervisor
of graduate work.8)
Two books on teen ilms in general appeared since the irst edition, one by Stephen
Tropiano (2006) and the other by Catherine Driscoll (2011), both of which were quite impressive.9) I enjoyed Stephen’s infectious spirit for the genre, and I was struck by how
Catherine had so thoroughly critiqued my ideas and those of others. So, in keeping with
the spirit of the irst edition, I thought it would only be itting to invite them to comment
on my manuscript, in a foreword and aterword, respectively. I asked Stephen to consider
the genre and its future, and I asked Catherine to write about research trends and opportunities. I still feel that too many academics are in competition with each other when what
we really need is greater collaboration. I was honored to have them be a part of this new
volume.
What do you think has been the legacy of Generation Multiplex?
My greatest gratiication in studying youth on screen has been in lending to the genre
some semblance of legitimacy. While I argue for the quality of certain ilms over others,
teen ilms in general have given us an opportunity to appreciate a large section of society
that has been gaining authority yet in most cases still relies on adults to speak for it. In fact,
the politics of age representation demand further study, because the young and old, while
6) Murray Pomerance and Frances Gateward (eds), Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice: Contemporary Cinemas
of Girlhood (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2002); Where the Boys Are: Cinemas of Masculinity and
Youth (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2005).
7) Robert C. Bulman, Hollywood Goes to High School: Cinema, Schools, and American Culture (New York:
Worth, 2004); Sarah Hentges, Pictures of Girlhood: Modern Female Adolescence on Screen (Jeferson, N.C.:
McFarland, 2006); Richard Nowell, Blood Money: A History of the First Teen Slasher Cycle (New York:
Continuum, 2011); Carol Siegel, Goth’s Dark Empire (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005); Jefery
P. Dennis, Queering Teen Culture: All-American Boys and Same-Sex Desire in Film and Television (New York:
Routledge, 2006); Barbara Jane Brickman, New American Teenagers: he Lost Generation of Youth in 1970s
Film (New York: Continuum, 2012); Christina Lee, Screening Generation X: he Politics and Popular Memory
of Youth in Contemporary Cinema (London: Ashgate, 2010).
8) Emily Bennion, ‘Sexual content in teen ilms: 1980–2007’ (M.M.C. thesis: Brigham Young University, 2008);
Sarah Coyne, Mark Callister, and Tom Robinson, ‘Yes, another teen movie: three decades of physical violence in ilms aimed at adolescents’, he Journal of Children and Media, vol. 4, no. 4 (2010), pp. 387–401;
Mark Callister, Lesa Stern, Sarah Coyne, Tom Robinson, and Emily Bennion, ‘Evaluation of sexual content
in teen-centered ilms from 1980 to 2007’, Mass Communication and Society, vol. 14, no. 4 (2011), pp. 454–
–474; Jason Beck, ‘A comparison of male athletes with teenage peers in popular teen movies’ (M.A. thesis:
Brigham Young University, 2011; Mark Callister, Sarah Coyne, Tom Robinson, John J. Davies, Chris Near,
Lynn Van Valkenburg, and Jason Gillespie, ‘“hree sheets to the wind”: substance use in teen-centered ilm
from 1980 to 2007’, Addiction Research and heory, vol. 20, no. 1 (2012), pp. 30–41.
9) Stephen Tropiano, Rebels and Chicks: A History of the Hollywood Teen Movie (New York: Back Stage Books,
2006); Catherine Driscoll, Teen Film: A Critical Introduction (New York: Berg, 2011).
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very inluential, creative, talented, and vocal, remain disenfranchised. his is why I have
been moving into studies of aging at the other end of the scale in recent years, the so-called
old and elderly, or in formal parlance, the senescent. Given all the studies devoted to certain populations in cinema and media, age is a universal quality to all characters, one that
nonetheless remains in need of much more analysis.
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Richard Nowell
American Teen Film: Something more
Slippery than it used to be
An Interview with Catherine Driscoll
Catherine Driscoll is Professor of Gender and Cultural Studies at the University of
Sydney, Australia. Her books include Girls: Feminine Adolescence in Popular Culture and
Cultural heory (Columbia UP 2002), Modernist Cultural Studies (UP Florida 2010), Teen
Film: A Critical Introduction (Berg 2011), and he Australian Country Girl: History, Image,
Experience (Ashgate 2014). She is co-editor, with Meaghan Morris, of Gender, Media and
Modernity in the Asia-Paciic (Routledge 2014) and, with Megan Watkins and Greg Noble,
of Cultural Pedagogies and Human Conduct (Routledge 2015). She has also published
many essays on girls studies, popular media and popular genres, rural cultural studies,
modernism, modernity, and cultural studies and cultural theory.
———
Youth-centered and youth-oriented cinema and media has been a central focus of your research for many years. Could you say a little about what irst drew you to this topic?
It’s probably not the most obvious starting point but it started at the end of my undergraduate degree when I was writing my thesis on modernist literature, James Joyce in particular. I was particularly fascinated by the igure of the girl, yet no one seemed to talk
about this essential aspect of Joyce’s iction. When I went on to do my Ph.D. that fascination remained, because everything I read at the time suggested that there was a lot more
to be said about what was meant to be revolutionary about modernist literature; about the
place of the new image of young women, and about a highly visible new image of adolescence in general. hat’s what my thesis turned into: a thesis on adolescence, for which the
theoretical, philosophical, and aesthetic discourses of the time were key pieces of evidence
for thinking about how central adolescence came to be in European, American, and
Anglophone culture.
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What were some of the main questions you felt needed answering at this time?
I started with an interest in where our current idea of adolescence came from, especially in terms of how that adolescence was gendered, and how we share ideas about it. So, as
I moved into the ield of cultural studies, I felt compelled to tackle contemporary instances of these topics. hat’s how I came to research popular media. In doing my Ph.D. on that
new centrality of adolescence, and in coming to think about contemporary culture in this
light, I developed certain questions that underpinned my irst book Girls: Feminine
Adolescence in Popular Culture and Cultural heory, as well a number of articles and papers I wrote around this time. hey were: where do contemporary ideas of girlhood, adolescence, youth identity, and youth culture come from? How have they changed since they
irst emerged in the late nineteenth century? And when did they begin to look the way
they look to us now? As I was working through these questions I became fascinated by
how, in the face of social change, we maintained so many of the same ideas about youth,
adolescence, and the ways they are gendered, and I became increasingly interested in the
ways we shared these ideas through popular media and through discourses on citizenship
and identity that are relected in popular media as much as in theoretical literature or history books. Girls is very much a history of the idea of girlhood, from the late nineteenth
century to when I was writing at the beginning of the twenty-irst century. My guiding interest was to track ideas about girls and girlhood through diferent kinds of cultural formation, including feminist theory, psychoanalysis, and sociology, as well as popular culture, guidance manuals, and educational literature about puberty. So really it was a big
abstract question: how did we get to this point? With each of these diferent formations it
was really that question that interested me.
To what extent do you feel you responded to these early questions you had about the topic?
How I feel about that now really depends on the type of question I am asking myself.
When I think about popular media, especially media that represents girls and that is distributed to them, I still think considering the context of late modernity is crucial. he longevity of our ideas about girlhood is partly explained by the powerful igure of the girl representing late modernity. I feel that this point is still important, because such ideas are
oten de-historicized. But, at the same time, when I come to some of my new projects, I do
feel like I was being too general back then; that such a frame is simply too big for some of
the arguments I want to pursue now in relation to speciic media forms, particular genres,
and speciic cultural locations.
How did your interest in this topic develop across the years? What were some of the new questions you found yourself asking following the publication of your irst book on this topic?
I think Girls was too ambitious in some respects to be anything more than background,
although I hope it is good background insofar as it raises several important foundational
questions. Ater that book I consciously divided my broad interests into distinct ields
about which I wanted to know more. Some of that work was directed to researching historical questions about how speciic ideas related to youth, adolescence, and girlhood
emerged. For example, my second book Modernist Cultural Studies includes chapters on
the idea of adolescence, love and sexuality, the shop girl (a igure for the girl who is em-
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ployed as an independent worker), and fashion. While the same ideas about adolescence,
and how it is gendered, arise in that book, there I asked myself “why do we care about
these particular things in the late modern period?”. And I take a diferent, more focused,
approach in my work on contemporary media forms. My book Teen Film: A Critical
Introduction is an example of this. It does relect on questions of modernity, and why the
ilm audience and adolescence are, from certain perspectives, so closely tied together. he
book also has a historical dimension, but it is mainly concerned with contemporary forms
and their development. It is more focused than my discussion of teen ilm was in Girls. In
fact, I don’t think the same things about teen ilm as I did when I wrote Girls, a point in
time at which I was really interested in the idea that certain kinds of ilms for young people had girls at their center and certain ones did not. By the time I had done close work on
the genre itself, this idea seemed less important. I now think that amidst the diversity of
narratives about adolescence in teen ilms gender is a more mutable factor than I had
thought in the past.
To what extent have your own research methods and conceptual approaches changed in this
time — and what motivated these changes?
I now have a more targeted sense of the methods that are appropriate for particular
projects; this too began with Girls. I interviewed some high school students in two
Australian states, encouraging them to talk about how they understood girlhood. None of
that material ended up in the book, because it simply didn’t it. When I was looking at the
transcripts I couldn’t decide if it mattered what a particular girl thought about girlhood.
I kept asking myself “why does it matter what she thought, as compared to what Freud or
Adorno thought”?, and “how am I supposed to position these girls and their ideas?” in this
history. One of the things that interested me ater Girls came out of those interviews however. I write about this in the introduction to my new book, Australian Country Girlhood:
History, Image, Experience, in which I discuss my shock at discovering, in the process of
conducting those interviews, the sheer number of diferences between the girls in rural
schools and those in city schools; far more than simply between wealthy private schools
and disadvantaged public schools, which was the diference I expected to ind. he country girl project is primarily ethnographic, conducting ield work in county towns, schools,
parks; interviewing girls and women who were once girls; and spending time living in
those towns. his kind of ethnographic work would have been incompatible with the Girls
book, and I would never have attempted it with Teen Film.
What is more, certain theoretical frameworks that seemed crucial at a certain point in
time stopped feeling all that enlightening to me. When I started my Ph.D. back in the early 1990s I was really quite fascinated by the Lacanian-feminist approach, which was very
much a product of the time when I inished my undergraduate degree. I was particularly
interested in the criticism of Lacanian ideas about gender and representation, in feminist
politics, in the appropriation of Marxism, and in what critiques of psychoanalysis might
say about adolescence — in contrast to what still seems to be a dominant assumption
about the psychoanalytic story of adolescence in both an academic and broader public
sense (educational policy and so forth). In the years following, and right up to Girls, it
seemed crucial to me to combat psychoanalytic accounts with every reading I made of
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Richard Nowell: American Teen Film: Something more Slippery than it used to be
girls’ magazines or movies about girls or children’s story books. I have noticed that such
ideas are still quite pervasive, with scholars in many ields that might talk about youth and
youth culture continuing to work with those tools. But arguing for or against psychoanalysis is deinitely not a major focus for me any longer. Ater that I spent a long time using
a Foucauldian framework to explore discourses of adolescence and institutional apparatuses around adolescence. Right now, my work is more pragmatic than it used to be. I am
quite self-conscious about using pragmatist philosophy, and to a certain extent I’ve also
been experimenting with phenomenological approaches. I think that, from a pragmatic
point of view, it no longer matters to me quite as much whether the psychoanalytic model is correct. More important are the efects of the models we take for granted.
What do you think remain the most pervasive misunderstandings about youth and cinema?
he irst way I would like to answer this question relates to the category of teen ilm.
I think we should use this category and term to talk about cinematic representations of
youth that are oriented primarily around ideas about youth and the youth audience. he
irst major misunderstanding is that teen ilm is a purely American phenomenon; that it is
produced in America for Americans. When Timothy Shary was doing the second version
of Generation Multiplex, he asked me if I would write an aterword to that book as a kind
of reply. I was happy to, but not for the reason he expected. He had felt that I didn’t like his
book because I spent so much time in Teen Film saying “this phenomenon is not American”
and Shary, of course, does talks about it being American and about the American-ness of
teen ilm. I actually think Shary’s book is incredibly useful, but I certainly do think that if
we fail to acknowledge that teen ilm is not just American we neglect the full range of historical and contemporary forms of this genre. Youth-oriented media in general can never
be deined by where it is produced, and that’s not just a matter of its being consumed in
many places. Rather, this is about the internalization of an idea of adolescence: about
youth as a subject, an object, and as a ield in which media is circulated. For example, it is
not unusual to see a scholar discussing Turkish ilms that thematize adolescence, and to
read that because they were made in Turkey it follows that they are about a Turkish version of adolescence, and that they exclusively relate to the “Turkish” experience. But there
can be no purely Turkish version of adolescence, any more than there can be a purely
American version of adolescence. It think this is so at least since high school, as a system
based on a narrative of puberty and development, was institutionalized internationally
and was increasingly attached to public discourses on the guidance and protection of adolescents.
I also think that scholars working in the ield of the cinema of adolescence really want
to anchor teen ilm to a speciic historical and cultural formation. Whether it’s the 1950s,
as homas Doherty did in his book Teenagers and Teenpics: he Juvenilization of American
Movies in the 1950s, or 1990s’ post-feminism, there appears to be a drive to ind a perfected form of the genre that is speciic to a time as well as a place. I think this approach is unhelpful. he third issue I have is that teen ilm is not just about teens in the audience; rather, it’s about popular narratives of adolescence which are not exclusively oriented to
a youth audience. hey also retain a durable and extensive range of possible attachments
for adults and for people who are not yet teenagers. It is a dazzling ield for children who
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are not yet teenagers as much as it is a place of pleasures for adults, not all of which are
nostalgic. Finally, I take issue with the position that teen ilm is low quality and repetitiously generic. Granted, it is repetitious and generic a lot of the time, because that’s part
of its pleasure, but there are many kinds of aesthetic experimentation. I don’t think we
have to take the either/or option on this (focusing on “great” examples and forgetting
about the generic, or focusing on the generic but forgetting about exceptional ilms).
Your recent work challenged the received wisdom that American teenpics emerged as a fully
formed product line in the 1950s. What opportunities and challenges do you think might
characterize subsequent research on this earlier period?
Doherty’s Teenagers and Teenpics, which is a great book in its own way, has a really interesting discussion about the marketing arms of ilm production companies inventing
this new idea about the teen ilm and its audience. I completely agree with his speciic argument on that period, but that marketing speak — let’s give it this label and sell it in this
particular way — was so successful at that moment that it cast a long shadow across everything that had gone before it, making it seem as though this was entirely about the present and the now, and that nothing similar had ever existed beforehand. So even though
this was happening within a few years of an array of diverse and successful ilms about juvenile delinquency and bobbysoxers and so on in the 1940s, those earlier eforts were rendered invisible by the massive success of the marketing of the “new teen ilm”. So when we
encounter Doherty’s argument that the teen ilm was invented in 1955 and died in 1959,
we need to understand that he is really describing a speciic narrative about the teen ilm
as a blindingly new 1950s postwar phenomenon. It is interesting to think about how we
historicize ilms using that story, because it seems so absurd to be told in 2014 that there
have been no teen ilms made since 1959. I think such arguments are useful in terms of
what they refuse to do as much as for what they do. Doherty’s insistence that all the famous teen ilms of the 1980s and 1990s were merely repetitions of 1950s movies — that
there was nothing new except for the fact that adults could now watch teen ilms — is a really interesting argument because it is clearly so wrong. It is useful to make those claims
because anyone encountering them for the irst time will invariably ask you about later
ilms. However, I think stepping outside of tight periodization debates where there must
be a point of origin for teen ilm proper allows us to think about how media and its relationships to youth culture are always changing. his in turn allows us to ask more interesting questions about the relationships between say ilm, television, and the internet, and
what they have to say, collectively and to each other, about youth culture.
Studies of the address, the representation, and the consumption practices of young females
have thankfully received increased scholarly attention in recent years. How do you think such
studies reorient or broaden our understandings of this important media-audience relationship?
I think talking about girls is now no longer extraordinary in Anglophone studies of
media and popular culture, but it’s still far more uncommon in, for example, Francophone
studies of the same ield, or in disciplines where popular culture still seems a marginal
concern. It is still surprising to me how many places and disciplines there are where work
on girls involves having conversations that Anglophone cultural studies writers like
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Richard Nowell: American Teen Film: Something more Slippery than it used to be
Angela McRobbie and Jenny Garber were already doing in the late 1970s and 1980s. here
are diferent histories for French, for example, or for Nordic girls studies. I think we need
to recognize that thinking about girls, and asking how diferent the situation looks if we
focus on them individually rather than on a generic youth or on girls rather than boys, has
been going on for a long time. he situation has been diferent in the last ten years because
Girls Studies has become a more visible and coherent ield, and now boasts its own intellectual spaces and dialogues. I still think when Media Studies scholars talk about youth in
general, and when ideas about youth and media are put forward, there is a default assumption that it’s either about boys or, if it is about gender, it is about boys and girls as distinct
categories. I think both of those situations remain rather problematic. Youth-oriented
popular culture is certainly one of the sites in which gender diferentiation, whether from
a production or a consumption standpoint, is very striking, but we still have to think about
the idea of youth that frames those things. We need those distinct perspectives and that
broader frame as well.
Your work is notable for the fact that it veers away from a primarily or exclusively US-centric
perspective on youth-oriented cinema towards a more international one. Given the central
position that transnational approaches now occupy in the study of cinema, how do you think
such a change of perspective might enrich or alter our understandings of American cinema
and youth?
It is a change of perspective, which does not put the site of production as the beginning
and the end of what you are going to say about a media form like cinema; taking an international perspective foregrounds a mobile, changing, international idea about adolescence that compels that genre and gives it certain shapes. his not to say that, for example,
Indian and Turkish ilmmakers are copying American ilms, but that these ilms share certain structures relating to how adolescence works and how it should be understood. hese
ideas are Turkish or Indian ideas even if they are also American. I think that starting from
this conceptual frame allows us to think diferently about the nation state’s relationship to
media. It also gets us away from some stories of globalization that were always problematic and oten taken in unhelpful directions — in the direction, for example, of homogenization or American imperialism, because no form of media has ever been that simple. his
international frame doesn’t forget about the national. It lets you talk about the nation state
as a place where industries are nourished, and harnessed to national economies, but also
where they’re monitored and where apparatuses of training and protection are built up
around ideas of adolescence as much as media industries. It therefore lets you think about
the nation state in what seems to me a better way, paying attention to certain cultural speciicities without assuming that the form derives its cultural speciicity from where it was
produced. here are some very Australian things about teen ilm in Australia, for example,
but the most interesting one is not that the ilms themselves were made in Australia.
I think the problem I have with many of the reception studies around is that, considering, say the consumption of American teen ilms in Germany, they simplify how
American such ilms could be and how distinctly German those consumers could be.
I want to stress the important ideas that are shared, by whatever means of translation, as
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a rubric for understanding youth and adolescence. hese ideas build a bridge between cultural contexts before any movie is even seen. I think some American scholars who work
on teen ilm take my statement that the genre should not be seen as American as undermining the value of their talking about the American-ness of these ilms or of talking
about American ilms per se. In fact, I think recognizing that teen ilm is not wholesale or
automatically American is helpful for American scholars too, because it lets them focus on
the peculiar American-ness of some manifestations of teen ilm, and to consider what allows some ilms to have some distinctive meanings for American audiences. It also allows
them to think about how American-made teen ilms have always been engaged with the
rest of the world. hey have borrowed not only from ilms made in other places but also
from the broader ield of youth-oriented media. I think it’s to the advantage of American
scholars of American ilm to acknowledge that there is not just a default association between America and teen ilm.
What do you think are some of the more exciting and potentially illuminating avenues of research currently being explored by scholars in this ield?
In terms of girls and popular media, there is a lot of work being done on sexualization
in girls’ media and on girls’ responses to that. his includes girls’ responses to teen ilm;
how girls respond to the dominance of narratives about sexual identity, sexual awakening,
and sexual experience. I ind this work to be very useful when it considers ilms or discourse on ilms in relation to discourses on sexualization in say public policy, schools, and
so on; when it doesn’t isolate the ilms and see them as exclusively ilmic events but rather
as parts of a much broader cultural ield. I recently read a wonderful PhD thesis by Heta
Mulari, from Finland, on Swedish girl ilms in the 90s that was doing that kind of work.
I don’t, however, appreciate work that fails to disassociate itself from moral certainties,
preordained cultural hierarchies, or panic formulas. It is great when ilm scholarship gives
a new resonance to young people’s continued consumption — year ater year, generation
ater generation — of stories about adolescence. I also appreciate it when it manages to
place ilm in relation to peoples’ relections on their own place in the world and their own
experiences.
he other thing I think is really interesting in current work on youth and ilm are studies which put ilm into a broader media framework and think about how slippery the borders are between media forms: between ilm and digital or online media, ilm and television, mobile phones and movies, video games and movies, and so on. I also appreciate
work that notices how slippery our notions of age and gender are, the minute we start talking about audiences that are only virtually identiiable, and only virtually anchored to
a speciic nation. Even though I have expressed some concern about the ways in which
discussions of transmedia texts become discussions of “convergence culture”, in general
I do think it is crucial that we recognize media change. To talk about ilm now is to talk
about a diferent thing than it was iteen-to-twenty years ago. hese issues come to bear
on the question of what to do with American cinema now. I think we all, as scholars,
should be more lexible about what we mean by cinema.
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What are some of the (still marginalized or under-examined) aspects of the topic you think
deserve greater scholarly attention? And how might such studies enrich current understandings of this topic?
I would love to see many more people working in teen ilm with an eye on the broad
historical framework of where our ideas about adolescence come from and how we maintain them, and at the same time with an eye on the international terrain that this history
covers, and that therefore any teen ilm addresses. I suppose that is the overwhelming interest of all my answers to your questions, but I feel like there’s a lot more to be done along
these lines.
Finally, what are some of the research questions shaping your current and upcoming work on
youth and cinema?
I recently won a large research grant to study international media classiication systems, and the histories of how they emerged in seven separate countries including
Australia, Britain, Brazil, India, China, Japan, and the U.S.A., and how those histories relate to each other. he British Board of Film Classiication is our British partner, and in
Australia our partner is the National Classiication Authority, whereas in Brazil our partner is a research center focused on censorship and classiication. With the other case studies we have partner investigators who specialize on ilm censorship and/or classiication in
those countries, and sometimes particularly in youth and youth culture as well. One of the
focal points of that project is the question of how these systems frame ilm in terms of the
young movie audience or in terms of young people on the screen. his represents one of
my own attempts to try and stop myself from thinking only about ilm in terms of the ilm
text; to recognize that ilm has always been part of a cultural ield in which many media
forms are important, but also to think of ilm today as something more slippery than it
used to be.
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Filmový umělecký sbor
1946–1948
Státní ilmová dramaturgie, následně přejmenovaná na Ústřední ilmovou dramaturgii, vznikla
v souvislosti s prezidentským dekretem,1) jímž byl
znárodněn ilmový průmysl, a měla zajistit kvalitativní vzestup ilmové tvorby. Po ročním neúspěšném řízení tvůrčí práce byla však Ústřední
ilmová dramaturgie zrušena a místo ní měl
vzniknout nový výkonný dramaturgický orgán,
jenž by rozhodovací procesy zjednodušil.2) V první polovině září 1946 se sešlo kolegium odpovědných ilmových pracovníků, z jehož jednání
vzešlo memorandum řešící otázku uměleckého,
kulturního a technického vedení zestátněné kinematograie. Autoři memoranda doporučili zřídit
Aprobační komisi pro schvalování českých hra-
ných ilmů (dále jen Aprobační komise), Sbor
umělecký a Sbor technický.3)
Sbor umělecký, posléze přejmenovaný na Filmový umělecký sbor (dále jen FIUS), byl oiciálně ustanoven dekretem Ministerstva informací
č. j. 83952/46-V/1 dne 18. září 1946, ale teprve
12. března 1947 udělilo Ministerstvo informací
FIUSu zvláštní statut.4) Na zahajovací schůzi sboru, která se uskutečnila 10. října 1946, byl schválen jednací řád FIUSu5) a z řad členů bylo zvoleno
osm zástupců, kteří se stali členy Aprobační komise.6) Sbor se skládal z předsedy a patnácti členů, kteří byli vybráni mezi básníky, spisovateli,
ilmovými hudebníky, režiséry, herci, ilmovými
novináři a kameramany. Do sboru své zástupce
1) Dekret prezidenta republiky č. 50 ze dne 11. srpna 1945, o opatřeních v oblasti ilmu („…a aby byly umožněny
řádné přípravy a včasné provedení trvalé úpravy v oboru výroby…“).
2) Věra Adina Š e f r a n á , Česká ilmová dramaturgie pod dohledem ideologie 1945–1955. Disertační práce. Olomouc: FF UP 2012, s. 7.
3) Tamtéž, s. 38.
4) Národní ilmový archiv (NFA), f. Filmový umělecký sbor (FIUS), ref. ozn. 1/1/2//1, Statut FIUSu. Statut byl vydán pod č. j. 80640/V. Statut deinuje v paragrafu 1 sbor jako „nezávislý vrcholný dramaturgický orgán, jehož
úkolem je vybrati vhodné ilmové náměty, zkoumati jejich scénáristické zpracování, a scénáře, které schválí,
doporučí pak instanční cestou k ilmové realisaci. Pokud by se mezi jednotlivými uměleckými složkami toho
kterého schváleného ilmu vyskytly rozpory zásadního rázu, má právo FIUS rozhodnout“. V celém znění byl
statut publikován ve ilmovém hospodářství: Jiří H a v e l k a , České ilmové hospodářství 1945 a 1946. Praha:
Čs. ilmové nakladatelství, 1947, s. 27–28. Ve zkrácené podobě byl statut publikován ve Filmových novinách:
úř. Statut Filmového uměleckého sboru. Filmové noviny 1, 1947, č. 12 (22. 3.), s. 2.
5) NFA, f. FIUS, ref. ozn. 1/2/1//1, Jednací řád FIUSu. V jednacím řádu FIUSu schváleném na zahajovací schůzi
10. října 1946 byla členům stanovena povinná účast na pravidelných týdenních poradách a zároveň upraven
i postih členů za jejich neúčast.
6) J. H a v e l k a , c. d., s. 28. Aprobační komise byla složena ze členů FIUSu a Filmového technického sboru (dále
jen FITES) v poměru 8:4. Předsedou Aprobační komise byl jmenován J. Mařánek.
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dále delegovalo Ministerstvo školství a osvěty
a Syndikát českých ilmových umělců a techniků.7)
Do předsednické funkce byl ministrem informací Václavem Kopeckým jmenován spisovatel
a ministerský rada Jiří Mařánek, přednosta dramaturgického oddělení 5. odboru ministerstva
informací, který ve funkci setrval až do zrušení
sboru v roce 1948.8) Hospodářsky byl sbor přičleněn k Československému ilmovému ústavu.9)
Sídlo sboru bylo na adrese Klimentská 6, Praha 2.
Sbor byl poradním orgánem ministerstva a působil jako nezávislý vrcholný dramaturgický orgán, který vybíral vhodné ilmové náměty pro
scenáristické zpracování a zajišťoval odborné kulturní a umělecké vedení ilmové tvorby. Tedy alespoň tomu tak být mělo. Na činnost FIUSu se nicméně během jeho dvouletého působení neustále
snášela vlna kritiky, především za malou uměleckou kvalitu některých natočených ilmů. Členové
sboru se vůči těmto výtkám vymezovali převážně
na stránkách odborného periodika Filmové noviny.10) Na svou obranu argumentovali především
nedostatkem dobrých námětů a s tím spojenou
nezaměstnaností ateliérů nepřípustnou v plánovaném hospodářství, dodatečným snížením rozpočtových limitů či změnami scénáře při samotné realizaci ilmu bez vědomí FIUSu. Autoři
odmítnutých scénářů současně dokonce několikrát zaútočili i na osobu předsedy sboru J. Ma-
A D FO N T E S
řánka, kvůli čemuž vydal sbor prohlášení, že
FIUS při své činnosti vždy rozhoduje sborově.11)
Dne 4. října 1948 byla na schůzi Kulturní rady
ÚV KSČ shledána dosavadní činnost FIUSu jako
zastaralá a neefektivní, nedostávající nárokům
politických požadavků v rámci připravované centralizace ilmové dramaturgie. Sbor měl být původně jen reorganizován, ale na schůzi Kulturní
rady ÚV KSČ konané 11. října 1948 padl návrh
na zrušení sboru a jeho nahrazení jiným orgánem.12) V listopadu 1948 byla zřízena Ústřední
dramaturgie výroby dlouhých hraných ilmů a po
reorganizaci, provedené nedlouho poté, se nejvyšším poradním orgánem ministerstva stala Filmová rada.13)
Pro badatele asi nejpřínosnějším a zároveň nejvíce zastoupeným typem dokumentů ve fondu
jsou posudky ilmových scénářů, povídek a námětů, o nichž členové sboru jednali mezi březnem a zářím 1948. Archivní fond dále obsahuje
opisy dekretu, zvláštního statutu a jednacího řádu
s řadou rukopisných poznámek a návrhů, seznam
členů sboru a dvanáct prezenčních listin. Ve fondu jsou v množství několika jednotlivin zachovány i dokumenty související s odbornou činnosti
několika původců úzce spolupracujících s FIUSem.14)
Jiří Kutil
7) Tamtéž.
8) Místopředsedou FIUSu byl po celou dobu jeho existence Konstantin Biebl. Na místě tajemníka se vystřídali
Roman Hlaváč a Jan Poš. Členy FIUSu postupně byli Antonín Martin Brousil, Martin Frič, Václav Hanuš, Jiří
Hendrych, František Hrubín, Václav Kadlec, Julius Kalaš, Arnošt Klíma, Jan Stanislav Kolár, Karel Konrád, Vilém Kún, Jiří Lehovec, Marie Majerová, Antonín Matěj Píša, Jaroslav Průcha, Jindřich Plachta, Marie Pujmanová, Bohdan Rossa, Jiří Srnka, Vladimír Šmeral, Bohumil Štěpánek, Ladislav Štoll, Otakar Vávra a Jan Zázvorka ml. Údaje byly převzaty z přehledu ilmového hospodářství: J. H a v e l k a , c. d., s. 10, 28. J. H a v e l k a ,
České ilmové hospodářství 1945–1950. Praha: Český ilmový ústav, 1970, s. 47.
9) NFA, f. FIUS, ref. ozn. 1/2/1//1, Jednací řád FIUSu.
10) Milan N o h á č , Mluvili jsme s předsedou FIUSu min. radou Jiřím Mařánkem. Filmové noviny 1, 1947, č. 27
(5. 7.), s. 3. Filmový umělecký sbor. FIUS na obranu své činnosti. Filmové noviny 1, 1947, č. 48 (29. 11.), s. 4. J.
D. Pravomoc, náměty, kritika. Filmové noviny 2, 1948, č. 20 (14. 5.), s. 4.
11) Filmový umělecký sbor. Prohlášení FIUSu. Filmové noviny 1, 1947, č. 15 (12. 4.), s. 1.
12) Ivan K l i m e š , Kulturní rada ÚV KSČ o ilmové dramaturgii 1948–1949. Iluminace 12, 2000, č. 4, s. 140–149.
13) V. A. Š e f r a n á , c. d., s. 65.
14) Jedná se o Aprobační komisi, Syndikát českých ilmových umělců, Syndikát českých spisovatelů, Syndikát českých skladatelů, Správní sbor pro hospodářské a inanční věci ilmového podnikání a Ministerstvo informací.
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95
Archivní pomůcky oddělení písemných archiválií NFA on-line
V posledních letech se stalo standardem zpřístupňování archivních pomůcek (především
inventářů a katalogů) fondů a sbírek na internetových stránkách archivů,1) popřípadě na internetové stránce společné pro několik partnerských
institucí.2) Zveřejnění archivních pomůcek on-line je prospěšné jak pro badatele, tak pro archiváře — o tom nemůže být sporu. Proto se i oddělení písemných archiválií Národního ilmového
archivu (díle jen OPA NFA) rozhodlo zveřejnit
všechny schválené archivní pomůcky na internetových stránkách NFA.
Na adrese http://nfa.cz/cz/sbirky/sbirky-a-fondy/ nalezne badatel v sekci Pozůstalosti (http://
nfa.cz/cz/sbirky/sbirky-a-fondy/pozustalosti/)
53 inventářů k osobním fondům např. Vladimíra
Čecha, Jindřicha Brichty, Martina Friče, Vladimíra Slavínského či Františka Vláčila. Obdobně
v sekci Fondy institucí (http://nfa.cz/cz/sbirky/
/sbirky-a-fondy/fondy-instituci/) je k dispozici
64 inventářů k fondům ilmových výrobních
a distribučních společností, kin a profesních
sdružení z oboru kinematograie z období do
roku 1945. Jsou mezi nimi významné produkční
a distribuční společnosti, jako např. Aktualita, Elektailm, Host, Lucernailm, Nationalilm,
Prag-Film (A-B), Ufa-Film či Bratři Deglové. Poslední sekcí, v níž badatel nalezne inventáře, jsou
Varia (http://nfa.cz/cz/sbirky/sbirky-a-fondy/varia/) obsahující inventáře k devíti sbírkám. Zde je
třeba především upozornit na sbírku Filmové instituce — varia, kterou by nezasvěcený badatel
hledal spíše v sekci Fondy institucí.
Všechny archivní pomůcky jsou zveřejněny ve
formátu PDF a podléhají autorsko právní ochraně. Není proto dovoleno kopírovat například
úryvky či celé kapitoly z úvodů a vydávat je za
vlastní texty. Počet zveřejněných pomůcek se
bude neustále zvyšovat v souvislosti s kontinuálním pořádáním dosud nezpracovaných fondů či
sbírek. V rubrice „Ad fontes“ časopisu Iluminace
jsou čtenáři již několik let seznamováni s nově
zpracovanými fondy či sbírkami. Pomůcky k nim
vždy naleznou i na výše zmíněných stránkách.
Zpřístupnění zpracovaných fondů a sbírek, ve
kterých se badatel i archivář může orientovat právě prostřednictvím pomůcek, je globálně omezeno na archiválie starší třiceti let3) a u osobních
fondů rovněž individuálními podmínkami jednotlivých akvizičních smluv a zákonem o ochraně osobních údajů.4) Zpřístupnění archiválií v badatelně OPA NFA upravuje také badatelský řád
1) Např. Státního oblastního archivu Praha, viz http://pomucky.soapraha.cz/ či Moravského zemského archivu
v Brně, viz http://www.mza.cz/pomucky.
2) Např. pomůcky Národního archivu, Knihovny Národního muzea a Literárního archivu Památníku národního
písemnictví badatel nalezne na http://www.badatelna.eu/.
3) Dle zákona č. 499/2004 Sb., o archivnictví a spisové službě a o změně některých zákonů, ve znění zákona
č. 167/2012 Sb.
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A D FO N T E S
(http://nfa.cz/cz/sbirky/zpristupneni/pro-badatele/). Výše popsané v praxi znamená, že si badatel dle pomůcek vybere archiválie, ve kterých by
chtěl bádat, a kontaktuje pracovníky OPA NFA.
Není-li nahlížení do archiválií limitováno výše
uvedenými zákony a akvizičními smlouvami, domluví se badatel s pracovníky na termínu návštěvy badatelny. 5)
V jednotlivých sekcích internetových stránek
se badatel zároveň dozví o existujících nezpracovaných fondech a sbírkách uložených v OPA
NFA, které na zpracování a vyhotovení pomůcky
teprve čekají. Jedná se především o fondy ilmových institucí z období po roce 1945, jejichž rozsah někdy vyžaduje až několikaletou práci archivářů. V případě potřeby bádat v nezpracovaných
fondech a sbírkách je nutné požádat o udělení výjimky s odůvodněním žádosti a přesným vymezením tématu studia. Návod k žádosti je k dispozici v každé ze sekcí.
Věříme, že zpřístupnění archivních pomůcek
badatelům prostřednictvím internetových stránek NFA povede k vyšší informovanosti badatelské veřejnosti o fondech a sbírkách v péči OPA
NFA a zároveň usnadní a urychlí práci badatelům
i archivářům.
Marcela Týfová
4) Zákon č. 101/2000 Sb., o ochraně osobních údajů a o změně některých zákonů.
5) Badatelna OPA NFA sídlí na adrese Praha 1, Bartolomějská 11 (Konvikt). Badatelské dny jsou středa (11−20h)
a čtvrtek (9−18h).
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97
Addressing the Russian Other
Ewa Mazierska — Lars Kristensen — Eva Näripea (eds.),
Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European Cinema: Portraying Neighbours on Screen.
London: I.B Tauris & Co Ltd. 2014.
It is just about the time for academics to turn
their attention to examining Eastern European
cinema from a postcolonial perspective and, by
re-thinking and overcoming Eurocentrism, imperialism, ethnocentrism and the well-known
West-and-the-Rest1) opposition, begin to evolve
a colonial discourse that omits the old ‘white/
Occidental’ versus non ‘white/Oriental’ dichotomy.2) here has been a great need for new approaches in ilm studies that transcend the conventional rhetoric of the dominant-subjected/
centred-peripheral representation and, ater the
well-known investigations on Francophone,3)
Asian,4) or Latin American cinema,5) comes out
with the postcolonial study of a less analyzed territory, although, as the editors of Postcolonial
Approaches to Eastern European Cinema pinpoint, examining Eastern Europe as a geo-political territory that has been colonized by the Soviet
Union is a controversial task. his is to say that
the Eastern European countries were already
postcolonial when they got seized by RussoSoviet power. Furthermore, the level of the
USSR’s control and oppressive measures had different faces in the Baltic States, Yugoslavia and
the Central European countries, thus, the sociopolitical, cultural, national, economic and even
religious diferences among the satellite countries
and the way they comprehended Marxist ideology makes it diicult to consider them as one. his
diversity as well as the diference from the classical colonies and, — as the editors bravely note —
the West’s ‘sympathy towards the Soviet political
project’6) caused the lack of postcolonial approaches towards Eastern Europe. Consequently,
the primary aim of Postcolonial Approaches to
Eastern European Cinema is to ill up this gap and
contribute to ilm studies with providing postcolonial readings of Eastern European national cinemas by linking ‘colonialism/postcolonialism in
1) Edward Said, Orientalism (New York: Pantheon, 1978).
2) Robert Stam, Louise Spence, ‘Colonialism, Racism and Representation’, Screen, vol. 24, no. 2 (1983), pp. 2–20.
3) Dina Scherzer, Cinema, Colonialism, Postcolonialism: Perspectives from the French and Francophone Worlds
(Austin: University of Texas Press, 1996); Samba Diop, African francophone cinema (New Orleans: University
Press of the South, 2004).
4) Wimal Dissanayake (ed.), Colonialism and Nationalism in Asian Cinema (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1994).
5) Charles Ramirez Berg, Latino images in ilm: stereotypes, subversion, & resistance (Austin: University of Texas
Press, 2002); Chon A. Noriega (ed.), Chicanos and Film: Representation and Resistance (Minneapolis: University
of Minnesota Press, 1992).
6) Ewa Mazierska, Lars Kristensen and Eva Näripea (eds), Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European Cinema
(London: I.B Tauris & Co Ltd, London, 2014), p. 16.
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Eastern Europe with the concept of neighbourhood.’7) Consequently, the eleven studies of the
collection are connected by focusing on the relation of ethnic groups in the post-socialist countries and the self-determination and identity of
Eastern European nations.
he collection’s irst study addresses the
post-communist representation of Poles in
German cinema by mainly focusing on Kaspar
Heidelbach’s Polski Crash (1993). Kirstin
Kopp8) provides a multiple, detailed spatial analysis of the ilm, arguing that ater Germany’s uniication, the border with Poland had become
a ‘threat that is either successfully staved of by
[…] Germany […] or that seeps into East German
space, exploiting its economically and socially
weakened position.’9) Accordingly, Kopp explains
the socio-historical background of the Poles’ negative image as primitive, dangerous Naturvolk in
German context and examines the neighbour’s
representation as criminal in the cinema of the
1990s. Consequently, she argues that in Polski
Crash the Polish ‘urban space becomes marked
by an almost Kakaesque illegibility of power
structures and of the identities of individuals
within the system,’10) thus meaning a site of decay
for the male protagonist. However, as Kopp concludes, there has been a shit in Poles’ negative
representation in the 2000s and the Eastern
Other tends to be illustrated as more equal in
Germany’s contemporary cinema.
he next essay shows the other side of the coin
and deals with the representation of Germans in
Polish communist and post-communist cinema.
Focusing on the latter, Ewa Mazierska11) brings
examples that did not follow the conventional
H O R I ZO N
post-war representation of Germans as aggressive, ruthless Nazi soldiers (Wanda Jakubowska’s
Ostatni etap /he Last Stage/, 1948 or Filip
Bajon’s Magnat /he Magnate/, 1986 for instance), furthermore, when examining the postcommunist Polish cinema, she draws attention to
the positive images of Germans in Roman
Polanski’s The Pianist (2002) and Wojtek
Smarzowski’s Roza (2001). In addition, she
ofers a stimulating analysis on Franz Maurer’s
hybrid, Polish-German, Western-Eastern identity in Władysław Pasikowski’s well-known Psy
(Dogs) (1992) who, despite his role as communist
secret agent, acts as a sympathetic character that
is easy to identify with. Mazierska also notes that,
due to the good political relationship between
Germany and Poland ater 1989, the previously
prevailing negative image of Germans has been
taken over by Russians that now serve as main
enemies and the indicators of the nation’s sufering. Similarly to Mazierska, Petra Hanáková12) investigates the role of Germans as well and concentrates on the representation of the Sudeten
ethnic in Czech cinema by arguing that, albeit the
last decade has somewhat changed the way ilms
picture the German-Czech relation, it could not
fully reveal the complexity of it yet. What is for
sure, the ethnic Germans’ negative image is continuously being challenged since the system
change that Hanáková has depicted in three examples that all visualize this shit diferently.
hus, whether questioning the necessarily guilt of
Germans (Jan Hřebejk’s Divided We Fall /
Musíme si pomáhat/, 2000), trying to challenge
Sudeten stereotypes (Marek Najbrt’s Champions
/Mistři/, 2004) or bring new perspectives (Juraj
7) Ibid., p. 20.
8) Kirstin Kopp, ‘“If your car is stolen, it will soon be in Poland”: criminal representations of Poland and the Poles
in German ictional ilm of the 1990s’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 41–67.
9) Kopp, p. 43.
10) Kopp, p. 51.
11) Ewa Mazierska, ‘Neighbours (almost) like us: representation of Germans, Germanness and Germany in Polish
communist and postcommunist cinema’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 67–91.
12) Petra Hanáková, ‘“I’m at home here”: Sudeten Germans in Czech postcommunist cinema’, in Mazierska,
Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 91–115.
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Herz’s Habermann’s Mill /Habermannův
mlýn/, 2010) into Czech cinema, the country’s
ilmmaking has been so far unable to break the
ties with the stereotypes according to the German
minority and could not explore ’the vicissitudes
of national proximity as a product of colonial encounter.’13)
In the next chapter, Peter Hames14) examines
the Slovak romantic hero, Juraj Jánošík’s igure in
Czech (Jánošík, Martin Frič, 1935), Slovak
(Jánošík, Jaroslav Siakeľ, 1921), Polish (Janosik,
Jerzy Passendorfer, 1973) and inally PolishSlovak (Janosik: Prawdziwa historia /Janosik:
A True Story/, Agnieszka Holland and Kasia
Adamik, 2009) context. Accordingly, Hames follows the transformation of Jánošík who irst
stands for the legendary, nationalist hero but later becomes a more complex, albeit less powerful
igure in Holland’s adaptation. hus, Jánošík
slowly loses his connections to his Slovak identity
and becomes a Hollywood-like, transnational
hero.
Ater putting forward the post-Czechoslovak
and German postcolonial sphere, the collection’s
attention turns to south. Accordingly, John
Cunningham15) discusses Romania’s role in
Hungarian cinema, with special focus on the
post-2000 Hungarian ilmmaking that produced
four movies (Robert Pejo’s Dallas Pashamende,
2004; Csaba Bollók’s Iszka utazása /Iska’s
Journey/, 2007; Kornél Mundruczó’s Delta,
2008 and Peter Strickland’s Katalin Varga,
2009) that are set in the neighbour country.
Cunningham argues that these ilms shed a negative light on Romania with picturing it as an
isolated, primeval territory of ’grinding poverty
and hopelessness’16) where people struggle for
H O R I ZO N
99
daily living. Surprisingly, the author drops out
Marian Crișan’s Morgen (2010) from the investigation, nevertheless it could have added new
perspectives to his study on Hungarian/
Transylvanian-Romanian relations. Apart from
this, Cunningham’s notes on Romania’s representation are remarkable, albeit sometimes confrontational as none of the ilms deal with concrete
space-time coordinates and it seems like these
ilmmakers concentrate on the deserted, dismal
landscape, rather than treating it as a territory of
the Romanian Other.
In the following chapter, Elżbieta Ostrowska17)
analyses the Balkan’s representation in Władysław
Pasikowski’s Psy 2: Ostatnia krew (Dogs 2,
1994) and Demony wojny według Goi
(Demons of War According to Goya, 1998).
Ostrowska argues that the ilms’ Polish and
Balkan characters deine each other, the former
accommodating itself to West while positioning
the post-Yugoslav Other as belonging to East. he
author underlines this dichotomy by bringing
several examples for the narrative patterns of
Western war ilms that correspond to Pasikowski’s
cinematic representation. Ater the fascinating
comparison of Western and Polish ilmic iconography, Ostrowska analyses the role of mediated
images in Dogs 2, highlighting Pasikowski’s distrust towards treating war footages as commodity, thus refuting the Polish side’s absolute identiication with West. What is born this way is an inbetween position, which is further scrutinized by
the sexual representation of both ilms. Ostrowska
ofers a remarkable textual analysis on the
Western, masculinist supremacy that the Polish
protagonists take on but again refuses the idea of
the male characters’ total identiication with West
13) Hanáková, p. 110.
14) Peter Hames, ‘Jánošik: the cross-border hero’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 115–147.
15) John Cunningham, ‘From nationalism to rapprochement? Hungary and Romania on-screen’, in Mazierska,
Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 147–175.
16) Cunningham, p. 165.
17) Elżbieta Ostrowska, ‘Postcolonial fantasies: imagining the Balkans: the Polish popular cinema of Władysław
Pasikowski’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 175–201.
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and states that ‘the traditional model of Polish
masculinity (…) continues to conine the Polish
subject as he moves uncertainly between the
Western and Eastern poles of the postcommunist
ideological order in Europe.’18)
he next two chapters concentrate on the
Balkans. Špela Zajec19) examines post-Yugoslav,
Serbian cinema and Serbs’ self-representation as
heroic igures that defended Europe from Muslim
inluence (Boj na Kosovu /he Battle of
Kosovo/, Zdravko Šotra, 1989) and whose crimes
are depicted as less serious compared to other
ethnicities (Lepa sela lepo gore /Pretty Village,
Pretty Flame/, Srđan Dragojević, 1995). As Zajec
notes, in the ilms of the 1990s, the neighbour igure mostly attracts negative images while the
post-2000 Serbian cinema has brought changes in
introducing the neighbour as victim (Četvrti
čovek /he Fourth Man/, Dejan Zečević, 2007).
hus, as the author concludes, ‘nationhood and
neighbourhood narratives […] in Serbia co-exist,
compete with and even contradict discourses
about the conception of the neighbour in Serbian
cinema.’20) Vlastimir Sudar21) dwells on the
Neighbour’s role in the Croatian ilm Ničiji sin
(No One’s Son, Arsen Anton Ostojić, 2008) and
provides a fascinating analysis on the post-Yugoslav ethnicities’ neighbourly and personal relations in the ilm. Accordingly, he argues that
Croatia’s inter-neighbour relations ‘collapsed viciously in Croatia,’22) in addition, the ilms point
out the neighbouring countries’ threat that ‘had
H O R I ZO N
inscribed itself on the country’s interior psyche.’23)
Consequently, Croatia’s neighbourly relations
have utterly fallen through.
he book’s Balkan section inishes with Bruce
William’s24) investigation on the Albanian postcolonial cinema through the textual reading
of Kolonel Bunker (Kujtim Çashku, 1998).
William reads Albania’s totalitarian past as a colonial one that enforced fear and paranoia on the
nation during the Hoxha regime. He argues that
the ilm, drawing on the Polish woman’s story in
Razvod po albanski (Divorce Albanian Style,
Adela Peeva, 2007) and bunkerization, connects
these ‘two discourses of strangeness’25) that open
‘ethno-nationalist sentiments and build dynamic
cross-cultural lines.’26)
he collection’s inal two essays concentrate on
the Russian Other. Lars Kristensen27) examines
the role of the Russian intruder into the
Mongolian neighbourhood in Nikita Mihalkov’s
Urga (1991) and the way it creates a new,
post-Soviet identity that recalls Russia’s imperial
past while addressing its colonizer position.
Accordingly, through the outstanding textual
analysis of the ilm, Kristensen places Gombo’s
and Sergei’s friendship in a larger perspective,
thus pointing out their shared marginality that
places them between two forms of post-communism, the capitalist West and the socialist China.
Consequently, the ilm depicts two kinds of colonialism, one ‘that the Russian Empire instigated
and the (neo-)colonial inluence of Western
18) Ostrowska, p. 195.
19) Špela Zajec, ‘“Narcissism of minor diferences”? Problems of “mapping” the neighbour in post-Yugoslav
Serbian cinema’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 201–227.
20) Zajec, p. 217.
21) Vlastimir Sudar, ‘New neighbours, old habits and nobody’s children: Croatia in the face of old Yugoslavia’, in
Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 227–253.
22) Ibid., p. 246.
23) Ibid., p. 246.
24) Bruce William, ‘he distant among us: Kolonel Bunker (1998) in a postcolonial context’, in Mazierska,
Kristensen and Näripea (eds), pp. 253–277.
25) Ibid., p. 268.
26) Ibid., p. 271.
27) Lars Kristensen, ‘he “far east” neighbour in Nikita Mikhalkov’s Urga’, in Mazierska, Kristensen and Näripea
(eds), pp. 277–303.
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hegemonies that holds sway over post-Soviet
Russia,’28) arguing that, in order to ind their roots,
the friends have to reject these power centres and
get connected to their ancestors.
Following the representation of the Russian
ethnic, Eva Näripea29) portrays the role of Russian
females in three Estonian ilms. She argues that
the Soviet political thaw in the 1980s gave the
Baltic country a new impetus in ilmmaking,
such as the topic of the relationship between native Estonians and non-native Russians living in
the same state. Accordingly, Näripea examines
the Slavic heroines in Leida Laius’s Varastatud
kohtumine (Stolen Meeting, 1988), Arvo
Iho’s Vaatleja (he Birdwatchers, 1987) and
Halastajaõde — Ainult hulludele (he
Sister of Mercy — Only for the Crazy, 1990).
Similarly to Kristensen, Näripea highlights the
marginalized, disempowered position of the
Russian protagonists and the rootedness of the
Estonian characters, thus rejecting the nationalist
stereotypes and the colonialist dominant-subjected opposition. As the author correctly notes, the
ilms testify that ‘any post-colonial situation is
deeply afected by other form of domination besides those induced by colonialism.’30)
Näripea’s concluding remarks address the
whole Eastern European corpus of moving images as none of the neighbourly conlicts can be fully reduced to and explained with colonial motivations. However, the area’s postcolonial reading
can successfully contribute to a better understanding of the post-socialist cinema and the
Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European
Cinema is an excellent, multifaceted irst step toward this. he editors proved the efectiveness of
postcolonial approaches in post-soviet ilm that
can be broadened with the study of other national cinemas such as Bulgaria, Slovenia, Lithuania,
Bosnia and Herzegovina or Latvia that are all
H O R I ZO N
101
omitted from the book. Also, although the
Postcolonial Approaches to Eastern European
Cinema concentrates on the concept of neighbourhood, the approach itself might call for several further points of investigation. With the
growing number of Eastern European migrants
and diaspora, a new post-socialist/neo-colonized
generation is being born, with hybrid and double
identities, that sets the power relationship between Russia and the satellite countries in a new
context, which encourages us to re-position the
Other. Correspondingly, thanks to the political
merge of East and West Europe and the economic integration of post-socialist territories, the issue of languages (Russian vs. English and
German), human traicking, the exploitation of
Eastern European territories and the national
cinema’s (lack of) reaction to these have become
accurate topics. his is to say that, besides working on our conception with colonial Russia and
Eastern European satellite-countries, we also
have to look at the area’s current position within
the European Union, thus analyzing the post-socialist region in a broader, post-neo-colonist
framework that might help us with further investigations.
Anna Batori
28) Ibid., p. 281.
29) Eva Näripea, ‘he women who weren’t there: Russians in late Soviet Estonian cinema’, in Mazierska, Kristensen
and Näripea (eds), pp. 303–327.
30) Ibid., p. 320.
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Krátky český ilm 30. až 50. rokov v piatich hlbokých nádychoch
Lucie Česálková, Atomy věčnosti. Český krátký ilm 30. až 50. let.
Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2014.
V súčasnej ére multimédií, digitalizácie a všemožného sprístupňovania neaudiovizuálnych
i audiovizuálnych prameňov by sa mohlo zdať, že
písať dejiny špeciických ilmových žánrov, foriem alebo ilmárskych praktík nikdy nebolo
vďačnejšou úlohou. Dostupnosť a mnohosť materiálov je obrovskou výhodou, ale môže byť aj pascou. Otázka metódy, ale aj samej štruktúry historiograickej práce potom predstavuje o to väčšiu
výzvu a dobrodružstvo. Aký uhol pohľadu zvoliť?
Čo skúmať? A v neposlednom rade: ako usporiadať masu údajov, faktov, postrehov a zistení tak,
aby nasmerovala čitateľskú pozornosť na skúmané aspekty v ich komplexnosti, a nezahltila ju pritom množstvom informácií takmer znemožňujúcich vnímanie?
Lucie Česálková pri písaní svojej monograie
Atomy věčnosti stála presne pred takouto náročnou, a zároveň vyložene dobrodružnou úlohou.
Nie náhodou vstup do jej knihy zdobí dvojité
motto. Warburgov citát, „Co se ostatním zdá být
okrajovou zvláštností, je pro mne tím, co určuje
můj směr“, v Česálkovej prípade poukazuje na
výskum dosiaľ pomerne často opomínaného fenoménu českej kinematograie — krátkych ilmov, tzv. „dodatkov“ a ich formálnych, štylistických a rétorických aspektov, ale aj dobovej
recepcie.
Od výskumu „dodatkov“ sa odvíja aj výskum
kinematograických inštitúcií, ktoré sa produkcii
krátkych ilmov venovali. S výskumom účelu
týchto „atómov večnosti“ totiž nevyhnutne súvisí
aj štúdium ich poslania, presnejšie ich funkcie,
a tým pádom aj posolstva, ktoré do nich chceli
vložiť objednávatelia — štát, jednotlivé ministerstvá, organizácie alebo ustanovizne, ktoré v niektorých prípadoch ilmy aj samy produkovali.
S tým sa ďalej spája skúmanie výchovných a vzdelávacích stratégií štátu, zastúpeného jednotlivými
inštitúciami, i skúmanie jeho sociálnych praktík.
Lucie Česálková deinuje krátky ilm v prvom
rade ako ilm „spoločensky zodpovedný“ (s. 19).
Je to ilm s poslaním šíriť všeobecne uznávané
hodnoty či apelovať na občianske povinnosti vedúce k prospechu všetkých. Od „okrajovej zvláštnosti“ sa tým dostávame k pomerne zásadným
veciam.
Druhý citát z Česálkovej motta, slávny výrok ilozofa a matematika Alfreda Korzybskeho „Mapa
nie je územie“, sa dotýka samej problematiky
vedeckého výskumu a spoznávania predmetu
bádateľovho záujmu. Formuluje aj jeho limity —
nevyhnutnú iltráciu skutočnosti našimi kognitívnymi schopnosťami a jej redukciu na reprezentáciu, schému, či na zjednodušený (historický)
naratív, postavený na vysledovaní všeobecných
trendov potvrdených konkrétnymi príkladmi.
Tento sebarelexívny rozmer Česálkovej práce,
vedomie redukcie a zovšeobecnenia, ostatne badať aj v neustálom komentovaní a zdôvodňovaní
zvolenej metódy a v neustálom znovuzameriavaní (svojej i čitateľskej) pozornosti na sledované
aspekty. Napriek relatívne úzkemu časovému intervalu, rámcovanému prvou polovicou 30. a pr-
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vou polovicou 50. rokov 20. storočia, a zacieleniu
výlučne na krátkometrážnu formu, sa totiž Lucie
Česálková v knihe venuje viacerým veľkým témam a nebráni sa odskokom do dejín ideí, reprezentácií a praktík, k pojmom národa a štátnosti či
k interpretácii dejín. Zároveň väčšinu svojich zistení neustále kontextualizuje a dopĺňa pramennými zdrojmi, prepája s ďalšími javmi a tieto prepojenia precízne zdôvodňuje.
Nie je preto náhoda, že okrem „Prológu“ je kniha vybavená aj starostlivým, takmer 40stranovým „Úvodom“, v ktorom Česálková predstavuje
svoju metodológiu, kľúč k výberu ilmov — nakrútených i tých zamýšľaných —, a popisuje prácu so zdrojmi, s termínmi i s konceptmi. Zdá sa,
že takáto dôkladná príprava čitateľa na samo čítanie je typická pre brnenskú ilmovohistorickú
školu (metodologických a sebarelexívnych komentárov, a tiež vôle k dôslednej kontextualizácii,
je plná aj kniha Petra Szczepanika Konzervy se
slovy o počiatkoch zvukového ilmu v českom
prostredí 30. rokov 20. storočia), respektíve pre
každú historiograiu poňatú — povedané s Francescom Casettim — ako teória poľa.
Jadrom knihy Atomy věčnosti je päť rozsiahlych
kapitol, či skôr tematických častí vymedzených
podľa základných funkcií, ktoré boli krátkemu
ilmu postupne pripisované a ktoré Lucie Česálková zhŕňa takto: „výchova k vědění či poznání,
výchova k občanství, výchova k práci, výchova ke
vkusu a výchova ilmových pracovníků“ (s. 28).
Päť častí tak predstavuje päť transverzálnych rezov viac ako troma desaťročiami českého krátkeho ilmu, a s ním nepriamo aj päť sond do československej spoločnosti, jej inštitúcií a ich hodnôt.
Štruktúra knihy nie je primárne podriadená
chronológii. Lepšie povedané, nie je to chronologicky usporiadané rozprávanie o vývoji českého
krátkeho ilmu od dvadsiatych rokoch po polovicu rokov päťdesiatych. Ide totiž o päť hĺbkových
ponorov do jednej hlavnej témy — o päť sond,
ktoré navyše nie sú nevyhnutne vedené paralelne,
takže sa v niektorých momentoch môžu stretnúť,
preťať, naraziť na údaje relevantné aj pre tematic-
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103
ky trochu inak zameranú sondu. Výsledkom tohto preťatia však nie je zdvojovanie informácií, ale
dvojitá kontrola a potvrdenie či upresnenie predchádzajúcich zistení.
V prvej časti, nazvanej Škola oportunismu, poukazuje autorka na voviazanosť tvorcov krátkych
ilmov — najmä v časoch obnovenej povojnovej
Československej republiky — do rôznych inštitucionálnych vzťahov, takže prípravu a produkciu krátkych ilmov deinuje v prvom rade ako
tvarovanie látky smerom k výslednému tvaru
podľa potrieb alebo požiadaviek zadávateľa objednávky. Zároveň ilmový materiál deinuje ako
potenciálne recyklovateľný, ako príspevok k rozširujúcemu sa archívu tematických či motivických záberov. Druhá časť knihy, „Víc vidět — víc
vědět“, je venovaná ilmu „kultúrnemu“, teda
vzdelávaciemu, ale aj vedeckému a populárno-vedeckému ilmu, a je z celej knihy najrozsiahlejšia. Na ploche viac ako 80 strán v nej Lucie Česálková prvýkrát zostupuje až k začiatku 20. rokov
a sleduje napríklad genézu školského ilmu, využiteľného ako učebná pomôcka pri výklade. Zároveň sa venuje aj prvým pokusom o spoluprácu
súkromných produkčných spoločností so štátnymi alebo verejnými inštitúciami (projekt Národnej galérie ilmovej, ilmy pre Výstavu súdobej
kultúry v Brne v roku 1928), ale aj produkcii ilmov samotnými štátnymi inštitúciami, akými bol
napríklad Vojenský technický ústav alebo jednotlivé ministerstvá československej vlády od polovice 30. rokov až do obdobia Protektorátu, ale
aj neskôr, už v rámci poštátnenej kinematograie.
V tejto časti do popredia významne vystupuje
fakt, že sa Lucie Česálková viac sústreďuje na
kontinuity a na pozvoľné, vôbec nie prudké premeny ilmu, než na periodizáciu vymedzenú míľnikmi politických dejín, ktorou sa dejiny ilmu
ešte donedávna často nechávali (z)viesť. Zároveň
sa pristavuje pri konkrétnych autoroch, ktorí
z dnešného, ale i súvekého hľadiska predstavovali
to najvýznamnejšie a zároveň do istej miery to typické, čo charakterizovalo dané obdobie. Takýmito ilmármi, ktorým Česálková v rámci kapito-
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ly venuje pomerne rozsiahle pasáže, sú napríklad
Karel Plicka či V. J. Staněk.
Tretia časť knihy, nazvaná „Jednej správně, občane“, v tomto sledovaní kontinuít pokračuje.
Osvetový, výchovný ilm sa navyše veľmi logicky
napája na „kultúrny ilm“ pertraktovaný v predchádzajúcej kapitole, čo v istom zmysle slúži na
krížové overovanie hypotéz z predchádzajúcej
časti textu. Zdravotná výchova, výchova k materstvu, k šetrnosti, ale i k vlastenectvu a národnému povedomiu, realizovaná prostredníctvom
krátkych ilmov, je účelom a často aj formou úzko
prepojená s didaktickými zdravotníckymi či historickými ilmami, aké by mohli byť zmienené aj
v súvislosti so vzdelávaním alebo popularizáciou
vedy. Napriek týmto podobnostiam sa v tejto kapitole Lucii Česálkovej podarilo veľmi presne zachytiť premenu rétoriky zameranej na budovanie
národného povedomia od čias prvej Československej republiky, cez obdobie Protektorátu, kde
sa český nacionalizmus v rukách nacistov stával
nástrojom na germanizáciu (s. 239), ďalej cez obdobie krátko po obnovení Československej republiky, ktorá sa voči Nemcom nevyhnutne vymedzila, až po pofebruárovú éru, ktorá už bola
poznamenaná účelovou reinterpretáciou či skôr
dezinterpretáciu niektorých období českej histórie.
Aj štvrtá časť, „Písně práce“, veľmi logicky nadväzuje na tú predchádzajúcu. Od organizácie voľného času mládeže, od tém športu, telovýchovy
a s nimi spojenej výchovy k občianstvu v nej Lucie Česálková prechádza k organizácii pracovného času, k pracovnej morálke a k propagácii výsledkov práce od prvej republiky, cez vojnové
časy, obdobie po oslobodení, až po budovanie
lepších začiatkov. V nich si už sledovaním formálnych a naratívnych riešení niektorých ilmov,
esteticky sa vymykajúcich dobovým štandardom,
pripravuje pôdu pre poslednú časť, venovanú experimentálnym trendom v krátkometrážnom ilme, „Pokusy s vnímavostí“.
V nej jednak prepája krátky ilm s dedičstvom
avantgárd, ktoré v českom prostredí viedli k vzni-
OBZO R
ku viacerých zaujímavých snímok, a zároveň ho
vsádza do kontextu viacerých umeleckých médií
— najmä poézie, hudby a divadla. Vrcholné obdobie takýto ilm zažil v časoch prvej československej republiky, v 30. rokoch navyše s podporou Masarykovho lidovovýchovného ústavu.
V období zákazkového modelu výroby iniciovanej ministerstvami sa experimenty presunuli do
sféry amatérskeho ilmu, no s experimentálnym
ilmom sa prekvapivo opäť počítalo v roku 1948
(s. 355), hoci experimentovanie s médiom napokon dostalo priestor viac-menej len vo ilme animovanom a zostávalo devízou ilmu amatérskeho. Zaujímavosťou týchto dvoch častí knihy je, že
ich tempo sa zrýchľuje a dĺžka sa v porovnaní
s predchádzajúcimi kapitolami skracuje. To ma
vedie k tomu, aby som sa v závere pozrela aj na
spôsob písania Lucie Česálkovej, na jej štýl, na
narábanie s príkladmi, skrátka nielen na makroštruktúru textu, ale aj na jeho mikroštruktúru.
Jednotlivé časti totiž pozostávajú z tematických
podkapitol, v ktorých sa odhaľuje aj chronologický a vývojový aspekt krátkeho ilmu. Každá
z piatich veľkých častí obsahuje zhrnutie, ktoré
skondenzuje najdôležitejšie zistenia a vnáša tak
poriadok do inak trochu digresívneho spôsobu
písania Lucie Česálkovej. Toto digresívne myslenie štruktúruje aj zaraďovanie tzv. „fokusov“, kde
je „odbehnutie“ k inej alebo k čiastkovej téme
ujarmené graickým rámcom. Fokusy Česálkovej
umožňujú poukázať na špeciické prípady, ktoré
ilustrujú, prípadne sa dokonca vymykajú bežnej
praxi, no ktoré svojou názornosťou dotvárajú celkový obraz nielen krátkometrážneho ilmu, ale aj
Česálkovej myslenia. Jej štýl totiž stojí za zmienku. Analytické pasáže sa v ňom striedajú so syntetickými, a zovšeobecnenia podložené výskumami zase so zaujatím jednotlivosťami. Je doslova
fascinujúce sledovať, ako sa z informačne hutného popisu produkčného kontextu didaktických
ilmov 30. a 40. rokov presunie k detailnému skúmaniu „výnimky“ — estetických atribútov ilmov
Karla Plicku (s. 126–138), prípadne ako sa od
všeobecných charakteristík protektorátnych il-
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mov nabádajúcich k recyklácii surovín dostaneme ku krásnej mikroanalýze metaforiky ilmu
Huga Hušku Zářící tvář (1943).
Lucie Česálková má dar použiť konkrétny príklad ako metonymiu, ako názornú ilustráciu všeobecného trendu či zabehnutej praxe. Tieto metonymické príklady jej pomáhajú otvoriť tému,
skočiť do nej doslova „po hlave“ a prudko potom
pokračovať do väčších hĺbok či v ústrety rozľahlejším priestorom. Kapitolu „Škola oportunizmu“
takto otvára rozhorčenie režiséra Jana Kavana
nad zásahmi do jeho ilmu Jízda králů (s. 59),
kapitolu „Víc vidět — víc vědět“ zase otvorí lovecká metafora charakterizujúca okrem iného prácu
vedca, ornitológa a ilmára V. J. Staňka (s. 103),
kapitolu „Jednej správně, občane“ zase slová
Františka Ledvinku z roku 1948 o podiele osvetového ilmu na politickej výchove k občianstvu
(s. 196). Konkrétnosť si žiada kontext, a tak zaostrenie na detail zväčša vystrieda sled veľkých celkov.
Česálkovej písanie má teda vnútorné členenie
podobné záberovaniu alebo montáži viacerých,
niekedy rôznorodých celkov. Vo veľkej väčšine
prípadov je takáto „dramaturgia“ šťastná. Jediným nie celkom vydareným „strihom“ je zaradenie „Školy oportunismu“ hneď za „Úvod“. Keďže
ide o kapitolu výrazne postavenú na povojnovej
organizácii výroby krátkych ilmov, čitateľom
môže chýbať prvorepublikový kontext, ktorý sa
detailne rozoberá až v nasledujúcich častiach. Tie
však na seba tak výrazne nadväzujú, že akékoľvek
vsunutie „Školy oportunismu“ inde do textu monograie by bolo násilné. Na samostatný fokus je
táto kapitola zase priveľmi zásadná, vzhľadom na
to, že poukazuje na časté kompromisy pri príprave a realizácii krátkych ilmov, na ich recyklovateľnosť a zároveň na jednu z funkcií krátkeho ilmu (výchovu budúcich ilmárov). A tak zostáva
jediným menej efektným skokom do vôd českého
krátkeho ilmu.
Celkový výsledok Česálkovej hĺbkových ponorov do českej krátkometrážnej tvorby je však viac
než potešujúci. Napriek tomu, že mu z môjho po-
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hľadu chýba aspoň jeden fokus na fungovanie
slovenského krátkeho ilmu, v ktorom napokon
v sledovanom období pôsobilo aj viacero českých
ilmárov — nielen Karel Plicka, ale aj Karel Skřipský či pomerne krátko, v rokoch 1946–1949, Walter Sent —, a trochu monumentálnejší záver, sa
Lucii Česálkovej podarilo vytvoriť v podstate celkom nový obraz československej audiovizuálnej
krajiny 30.–50. rokov 20. storočia. Tento obraz
neprotirečí tomu, na ktorý sme boli dosiaľ zvyknutí — neruší, ani nezatieňuje obraz, v ktorého
centre stojí „veľký“, dlhometrážny, produkčne
i tvorivo celkom inak vznikajúci ilm. Mimoriadne dobre ho však dopĺňa, vytvára mu iný, nový
kontext a v istom zmysle ho aj trochu inak nasvecuje. Kniha Atomy věčnosti je cenná nielen vďaka
výskumu, ktorý sa sústredí na množstvo širokej
verejnosti takmer neznámeho ilmovému materiálu, ale aj vďaka tomu, že autorka zdôrazňuje
kontinuity a sleduje pretrvávajúce praktiky, ktoré
jednoducho „podplávali“ medzníky politickej
histórie. Česálkovej pohľad, zaostrený na zóny
a rozhrania, tak hľadá a nachádza paralely a styčné body tam, kde sme mali tendenciu ich prehliadať. Obraz krátkeho českého ilmu je vďaka nemu
svieži, nový i pôsobivý.
Mária Ferenčuhová
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Amatérský ilm v zemích východního bloku
Konference Inédits v Praze (30. října až 1. listopadu 2014)
Vznik evropské asociace Inedits: Amateur Films /
Memory of Europe v roce 1991 (tehdy pod názvem he European Association Inedits) byl
výsledkem snahy o sjednocení dosud spíše solitérních aktivit jednotlivců z řad archivní, akademické a ilmařské veřejnosti, soustředících svůj
profesionální zájem na oblast amatérských a rodinných ilmů. Inédits (v textu budu asociaci
označovat právě tímto slovem, znamenajícím ve
francouzštině audiovizuální záznam, který není
primárně určený ke komerční distribuci a televiznímu vysílání) se měla stát platformou sdružující
instituce i jednotlivce, ilmové archivy, televizní
stanice, režiséry, producenty a akademické badatele. Úsilí členů asociace směřovalo od počátku
existence k podpoře výzkumu, prezervace a archivace speciického druhu materiálu úzkých
formátů a k jeho následnému zhodnocování,
druhotnému zpracování a distribuci. Oblast archivnictví v Inédits reprezentovaly spíše regionální, nikoli státní instituce, a i proto aktivity tohoto
sdružení stále trochu zůstávají mimo přímý vliv
mezinárodní archivní federace FIAF. Ostatně
FIAF v minulosti deklarovala svůj zájem o neprofesionální kinematograii spíše formou obecných
prohlášení a výzev, bez důrazu na realizaci praktických kroků.
Co se týká vztahu FIAF a amatérských ilmů,
dějiny archivnictví uvádějí jako významnou udá-
lost kongres konaný v roce 1997 v kolumbijském
přístavním městě Cartagena, kde se část programu zaměřila na dosud opomíjenou oblast a na
nutnost její záchrany.1) Není přesně doloženo,
jaký konkrétní dopad měla zde vedená diskuze na
další politiku zúčastněných státních archivů, nicméně česká cesta k soustředěné a trvalé pozornosti o amatéry vedla přes obor orální historie
a projekt Galerie amatérských ilmařů, zaznamenávající vzpomínky bývalých aktivních tvůrců.
Během samotné realizace se někteří z nich rozhodli svoje díla věnovat či odprodat Národnímu
ilmovému archivu (dále NFA), včetně související
písemné dokumentace (náměty, scénáře, diplomy
a ceny, ohlasy v dobovém tisku atd.), což znamenalo bezprostřední impuls, aby se NFA, instituce
specializovaná na ochranu národní profesionální
produkce, začala cíleněji věnovat také neprofesionální kinematograii, jejíž sbírka byla oiciálně
ustavena v roce 2000. O šest let později se NFA
stává členem Inédits jako jeden z mála státních
archivů a také jako ojedinělý reprezentant bývalých socialistických zemí. (V samém počátku existence Inédits měla východní Evropa zastoupení
v nezávislém ilmaři a umělci nových médií Péteru Forgácsovi a později v několikaletém členství
Hungarian Ethnographic Society.)
Kromě příležitostné spolupráce na jednotlivých
projektech je pravidelnou aktivitou Inédits kaž-
1) Jan-Christopher Horak, Out of the Attic: Archiving Amateur Film. Journal of Film Preservation 1998, č. 56,
s. 50–53.
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doroční setkání, které je vždy věnováno jednomu
tématu. Mezi ta předešlá patřila například Amatéři a televize (2005); Amatéři ilmují historii
(2009); Amatérský ilm: šíření a předávání audiovizuálního dědictví (2012). V minulém roce se
hostitelskou institucí stal NFA. Fakt, že se setkání
Inédits poprvé konalo v některé z bývalých socialistických zemí, společně s 25. výročím pádu Berlínské zdi určily hlavní téma pražské konference
— Amatérský ilm v zemích východního bloku,
jež poskytlo příležitost pozvat do Prahy badatele
a ilmaře ze států s historickou zkušeností komunistické totality.
Přednáškový program
Hlavní přednášková část konference byla rozčleněna do 4 panelů. Z nich tři se zaměřily na historické aspekty amatérského ilmování v dobových
podmínkách socialistických států. Zahajovací panel Filmové deníky a rodinné ilmy představil dva
příklady formálně a obsahově vyhraněné oblasti
amatérského ilmování často zahrnující několikahodinové kolekce natočeného materiálu. Evženie
Brabcová (absolventka FAMU) přiblížila účastníkům ilmařskou osobnost Ludvíka Švába na základě průzkumu rozsáhlého ilmového fondu darovaného NFA paní Janou Rendlovou. Nejstarší
část této kolekce byla natočena ještě Švábovým
otcem ve třicátých letech minulého století, a to na
formát 9,5 mm. Konferenční příspěvek se věnoval
poválečným ilmům (formát 8 mm a 16 mm)
z období 50. až 70. let. Z autorova pozoruhodného a různorodého vizuálního deníku vyzdvihl
některé charakteristické tematické okruhy od
opakujících se momentů natočených s přáteli
v okolí bydliště, přes části spojené se Švábovým působením v poválečné surrealistické skupině až po pokusy o vlastní experimentální tvorbu.
Martin Koerber (Deutsche Kinemathek) zvolil
analýzu amatérské kolekce zachycující okamžiky
každodenního života obyvatel města Potsdam, do
nichž se nenápadně prolínají stopy aktuální existence politicky rozdělené Evropy.
Druhý panel se tematicky zaměřil na amatér-
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skou ilmovou tvorbu vznikající v rámci struktur
organizovaného hnutí podporovaného státem.
Na výhody a současná nebezpečí manipulace ilmařů totalitní mocí upozornily případové studie
věnující se největšímu polskému klubu SAWA
sídlícímu ve Varšavě (Magdalena Staroszczyková, Museum of Warsaw; Paulina Haratyková, Jagiellonian University, Cracow), resp. historii
amatérského ilmování na území jednoho státu
— Estonska, v období jeho nedobrovolného přičlenění k Sovětskému svazu (Eva Näripe, Estonian Film Archives).
Třetí panel se věnoval amatérské kinematograii ze sociologického úhlu pohledu. Melinda
Blos-Jániová (Sapientia Hungarian University of
Transylvania) na příkladu rozvětvené ilmařské
rodiny, členů jednotlivých generací, popsala formální a tematické proměny ilmování z hlediska
společenského postavení tvůrců, používané techniky a organizačního zázemí. Její kolegyně Orsolya Tóthová (Sapientia Hungarian University of
Transylvania) se zaměřila na obraz rodné Kluže,
urbanistických částí města, jak je na ilmový materiál zachytili profesionální a především amatérští ilmaři.
Poslední z přednáškových panelů dokumentoval na konkrétních příkladech aktuální situaci
v archivování vysoce speciického obrazového
materiálu (nejen) v bývalém socialistickém teritoriu, přičemž nabídl zajímavou konfrontaci přístupu zavedených archivních institucí — Monika
Supruniuková (Filmoteka narodowa), Nicolai
Gütermann (Austrian Film Museum). Tyto příspěvky obohatily prezentace dvou ilmařů —
Jana Šikla a Marka Šulíka, popisujících osobní
zkušenost se sběrem a uchováváním rodinných
a amatérských ilmů, které oba využívají k vlastní
tvorbě, viz televizní projekty Soukromé století
resp. Konzervy času.
Filmový program
Důležitou součástí konference byly tři ilmové
projekce, z nichž každá představila odlišný způsob prezentace starších amatérských ilmů sou-
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časnému divákovi. První večer měl podobu polyekranového představení realizovaného za doprovodu živé hudby (Handa Gote). Návštěvníci kina
Ponrepo se stali účastníky autentického promítání rodinných ilmů formátu 8 mm ze dvou dobových přístrojů umístěných v sále kombinovaného
s diaprojekcí. Představení nazvané Pan Roman
sugestivně přiblížilo atmosféru života Československa 60.–80. let prostřednictvím obrazového
záznamu tehdejších veřejných a rodinných rituálů, který střihem a projekcí ozvláštnil ilmový experimentátor Martin Ježek.
Italsko-britský snímek Vlak do Moskvy posloužil jako příklad klasického dokumentárního
ilmu, jenž se soustředí na vyprávění individuálního životního příběhu. Z kontextu běžné dokumentární produkce se vymykal mírou využití archivních amatérských záběrů, které tvořily 90 %
promítacího času. Materiál natočený kamerou
formátu Standard 8 mm byl uchován a restaurován v jednom z členských archivů Inédits: Home
Movies — Archivio Nazionale del Film di Famiglia, sídlícím v Boloni. Po projekci proběhla beseda s režiséry, F. Ferronem a M. Manzolinim, a se
zástupci archivu, který se podílel na digitalizaci
použitého obrazového materiálu.
Poslední večer byl věnován tradiční součásti setkání asociace Inédits — pásmu ilmů sestaveného z příspěvků členských archivů, tentokrát na
téma: Napříč železnou oponou. Jak naznačuje název, „pražská“ kolekce se časově soustředila na
období studené války a tvořily ji obrazové materiály z různých zemí tehdejšího socialistického bloku natočené amatérskými ilmaři ze západní Evropy při turistických a pracovních cestách za
železnou oponu. Filmový materiál byl prezentován v původní podobě, jen ve výjimečných případech upravený (krácený) dodatečným střihem.
Každému z příspěvků předcházel krátký úvod zástupce dotyčného archivu s informacemi o okolnostech vzniku ilmu, jeho získání do archivních
sbírek atd. Sbírku neprofesionální kinematograie
NFA reprezentovaly dva tituly. Dokument Čas
shromažďování kamení (1968), který režisér
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Rudolf Mihle natočil při návštěvě západní části
Berlína, zachytil tíživou atmosféru města rozděleného železnými zátarasy a betonovou zdí. Druhý snímek Město mého syna (Vladimír Kunc,
1988) zaujal diváky nepředstíraným entuziasmem dětského protagonisty konfrontovaného
s obrazy každodennosti chátrajícího socialismu.
Cílem pražské konference Inédits, jejíž přednáškový program proběhl v anglickém a francouzském jazyce, bylo vytvořit prostor k setkání
a navázání často prvních profesionálních kontaktů mezi archiváři, ilmaři a ilmovými historiky ze
západní a východní Evropy, které spojuje zájem
o amatérský a rodinný ilm. Z přednesených příspěvků a následných diskuzí vyplynulo, že ve většině východoevropských zemí je ze strany státu
archivace amatérských ilmů dosud opomíjena
a že Česká republika je v tomto ohledu vzácnou
výjimkou. Loňská prezentace Inédits v Praze tak
přinesla přítomným východoevropským badatelům cenný impuls k rozvinutí jejich dosavadních
aktivit a reálnou možnost budoucí intenzivnější
spolupráce s již zavedenými institucemi zemí západní Evropy, včetně samotné Inédits. Naopak
rozšíření asociace o nové členy z bývalého východního bloku by do budoucna znamenalo vítané oživení její činnosti.
Pražské konference se celkem zúčastnilo padesát akreditovaných zahraničních hostů, mj.
z Francie, Německa, Itálie, Polska, Rumunska či
Estonska. Škoda, že se nepodařilo vzbudit větší
zájem o návštěvu této akce u české akademické
obce a mezi studenty specializovaných kateder
a ústavů, existujících v rámci tří tuzemských univerzit.
Jiří Horníček
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Rezonance ilmové stáze
Použití ilmové metody vede k neustálému obnovování, během kterého mysl, neschopná se
nikdy uspokojit, přesvědčuje sebe sama, že napodobuje se svou nestabilitou skutečný pohyb
reálného. I když se namáhá až k hranici závratě, může skončit svým odevzdáním se iluzi pohyblivosti; operace mysli však nepokročily ani
o krok, neboť setrvávají tak daleko jako nikdy
od svého cíle. Abychom postoupili s pohybující se realitou, musíme se v ní zaměnit, musíme
se umístit uvnitř změny a pak uchopíme naráz
obojí, změnu samotnou a postupující stavy,
v kterých bychom mohli být v každém okamžiku znehybněni.1)
Pohroužení se do zdánlivé nehybnosti ilmového záběru, jenž stázi vyvolává, je pro mne spojeno s pocitem nevšedního významu — s pocitem
přiblížení se realitě blíže, než dovoluje jakákoliv
jiná zkušenost. Původní účinek nehybné stáze
ovšem, jak nám ho prezentuje Paul Schrader,2)
směřoval spíše k opaku — k přesahu skutečnosti, transcendenci. Předmětem mé disertační práce je obhájit tezi, že ilmová stáze je unikátní vizuální útvar, který je schopen vyvolat jedinečnou
intuici, jež sjednocuje obě tendence. Podstata
mého projektu je obsahem tohoto textu. Prvním
krokem je vymezení a deinice ilmové stáze
s ohledem na její aktuální funkci v současném
ilmu. (Stáze je zde chápána nejen jako projev,
ale také /ve Schraderově smyslu/ jako důsledek
ustrnutí ilmového obrazu). Další postup směřuje k hlavnímu záměru mé disertační práce —
poukázat na jedinečnou funkci ilmové stáze, která spočívá ve vyvolání fenoménu speciického
času. Ten je iniciován zlomem, vpádem „nehybnosti“ pohyblivého obrazu do prostoru trvání ilmového příběhu. Metodou analýzy konkrétních
scén ilmových děl, spojenou s komentářem jejich tvůrců, chci podpořit svou argumentaci,
že tento čas je radikální formou „obrazu-času“,
jehož účinek odkazuje přímo k ontologickému
potenciálu ilmového obrazu. Na základě referencí k současným diskursům, sledujícím linii
Bergson-Bazin-Deleuze, chci poukázat na tři oblasti, které jsou bezprostředně spjaty s trváním
ilmové stáze. Tyto oblasti, na které poukazuji
v závěru textu, se týkají elementární proměny
„hloubky prostoru“ ilmu do diferenciační roviny
ilmového obrazu, dále vytvoření kvalitativního
posunu v kvantitativním opakování „stejného“
obrazu a na závěr iniciace vstupu virtuální skutečnosti, kterou umožňuje energie mimoobrazového pole.
1) Henri B e r g s o n , Creative Evolution. New York: Random House 1944, s. 334.
2) Termín „stáze“, který budu používat v celém rozsahu své disertační práce, byl poprvé použit budoucím americkým scenáristou a režisérem Paulem Schraderem v jeho disertační práci, která byla publikována knižně
v roce 1972 pod názvem: Paul S c h r a d e r , Transcendental Style in Film: Ozu, Bresson, Dreyer. Berkeley: University of California Press 1972, s. 49. Zde je stáze deinována jako „zamrzlý pohled na život, který neřeší rozdílnost, ale přesahuje ji“ (Stasis: a frozen view of life which does not resolve the disparity but transcends it).
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V širokém tendenčním proudu diskursů, které
se v posledním desetiletí zabývají přímo problematikou nehybného, ustrnulého obrazu v kontextu ilmu,3) se termín ilmová stáze téměř nevyskytuje. Napříč intermediální krajinou, kde
nehybnost ilmového záznamu je stále výzvou,
bývá pozornost upřena na vztahy stavebního elementu ilmu, kterým je freeze-frame, a pohybu
jako dynamickému propojení trvání a intenzity
času, které působí na diváka v rámci technických
možností nových médií. Stáze je zde pak chápána
v přeneseném slova smyslu a má obecný význam
totožný s pozastavením, nehybností. V oblasti nedávné historie ilmu se ovšem termín stáze váže
ke zmíněné teoretické práci Paula Schradera.
Jeho text, zabývající se duchovním aspektem ilmu, hledá společné znaky v projevech tří režisérů, kterými jsou Jasudžiro Ozu, Robert Bresson
a Carl heodor Dreyer, a snaží se společné spirituální aspekty jejich tvorby sjednotit do jednoho
útvaru — transcendentního stylu, jehož kulminací
je právě stáze. Tento přístup, který byl těsně pro-
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vázán s reprezentací vycházející z náboženské
problematiky, se může z dnešního pohledu zdát
poněkud dobový, neaktuální. Není tedy překvapením, že také v nadcházejícím období (druhé
poloviny 70. let) expanze teorií post-strukturalismu4) se poněkud osamělý Schraderův text nesetkal s adekvátní relexí a postupně, až na malé výjimky,5) začíná mizet i ze slovníku pozdějších
diskursů intermediální terminologie. Obecně se
tedy klasiikace ilmové stáze týká i nejasností
v rámci pojmenování. (Pokud je tento vizuální
útvar připomínán, pak je to v souvislosti s délkou
statického záběru, kde Schraderova verze není
brána v úvahu).
Poukázat opět na Schraderovo pojetí stáze
jsem se rozhodl ze dvou důvodů. Především proto, že v jeho pojetí je stáze nejen aktem znehybnění ilmového obrazu, ale také důsledkem — dopadá okamžitě na subjekt, nerozšiřuje dále prostor
re-prezentace, prostor pro racionální uchopení.
Druhým důvodem je skutečnost, že stáze je
u Schradera součástí určitého procesu,6) řetězce
3) Eivind R ø s s a a k v předmluvě své knihy (Between Stillness and Motion: Film, Photography, Algorithms. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2011, s. 14) uvádí výčet titulů z posledních let, které zkoumají vztah nehybného-pohyblivého obrazu v kontextu současného diskursu. Zde doplňuji ještě tituly: Laurent G u i d o –
Olivier L u g o n (eds.), Between Still and Moving Images. Bloomington Indiana University Press: John Libbey
Publishing 2012. Raymond B e l l o u r , Between-the-Images, Zurich: JRP Ringier 2012. Laura M u l v e y ,
Death 24× a Second: Stillness and the Moving Image. London: Reaktion Books 2006. David G r e e n – Joanna
L o w r y (eds.), Stillness and Time: Photography and the Moving Image. Brighton: Photoworks/Photoforum
2006. Karen B e c k m a n – Jean M a (eds.), Still Moving: Between Cinema and Photography Durham: Duke
University Press 2008. Ludovic C o r t a d e , Le cinéma de l’immobilité: style, politique, reception. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne 2008. Dominique P a ï n i , Le temps exposé: Le Cinéma de la salle au muse. Paris: Cahiers du Cinema 2002. Stefanie D i e k m a n n – Winfried G e r l i n g (eds.), Freeze Frames: Zum Verhältnis
von Fotograie und Film Bielefeld: Transcript 2010. Gusztáv H á m o s – Katja P r a t s c h k e – homas T o d e
(eds.), Viva Fotoilm: Bewegt/unbewegt. Marburg: Schüren Verlag 2009. François A l b e r a – Maria T o r t a j a d a (eds.), Cinema Beyond Film: Media Epistemology in the Modern Era. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2010. David C a m p a n y (ed.), he Cinematic (Whitechapel: Documents of Contemporary Art). London: MIT Press 2007.
4) Druhá polovina 70. let ve ilmové teorii je charakterizována nástupem Althusserova Marxismu, Lacanovy psychoanalýzy a post-Saussureovy lingvistiky. Z této pozice je Schraderův text mimo přijatelný kontext.
5) Zřejmě nejrozsáhlejší prací týkající se samotné ilmové stáze (ve smyslu použití tohoto termínu) je disertační
práce: Justin R e m e s e l n i k , Motion(less) Pictures: he Cinema of Stasis. Detroit: Michigan University 2012.
Autor se zde zabývá především díly americké ilmové avantgardy, americkým, případně britským experimentálním ilmem od počátku 60. let minulého století až po současnost. Autor naznačuje, že téma ilmové stáze
jako modality, tedy variantní formy pohybů obrazů, je stále nevytěženým tématem.
6) Stáze, stasis, je třetí, konečná fáze transcendentního stylu, která následuje po každodennosti (the everyday)
a rozporu (disparity). Stáze ve Schraderově pojetí má zprostředkovaný, svrchovaně duchovní význam. Má práce je soustředěna na strukturální pojetí elementárních formací, které mohou stázi iniciovat.
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událostí; na závěr pak kulminací tohoto procesu.
Stáze někdy neočekávaně ukončí rozpor, mnohdy
„uhodí“ do bezvýznamnosti děje, vše odesílá —
transcenduje — a opět navrací v podobě, kterou
ještě neznáme a která se vymyká klasiikaci. Filmová stáze je komplexní a v kontextu současné
kinematograie také vzácný vizuální útvar. V ojedinělých okamžicích stáze se nám může zdát, že
se přibližujeme skutečnu, jak nám ho prezentuje
(v Bazinových textech) fotograický obraz.7) Tento pocit se rovněž na základě fotograie snažil
analyzovat Roland Barthes. Jeho punctum je „slepé pole“, kterému přikládá „třetí význam“, jež je
charakterizován svou neostrostí, nezřejmostí.
Ovšem, jak tvrdí Barthes: „četba onoho punctum
(pointovaného snímku, chcete-li) je krátká i aktivní, je soustředěná jako šelma.“8) Účinek ilmové stáze je ukryt ve stále neurčitém poli mezi ilmem a fotograií. Zde se mohou také odehrávat
okamžiky modulace obrazu vyvolávající stázi,
které mají neosobní, těžce uchopitelný, mimo-jazykový charakter.
Z technického hlediska může být „zastavení“
nebo setrvání ilmového záběru, které má schopnost vyvolat stázi, docíleno několika prostředky.
Pokud nebudeme brát v úvahu zásahy „zvenčí“
při samotné projekci, které dovoluje moderní
technologie, jako je — stop, zpomalení, fázování
— tedy prostředky, které jsou spíše atributem il-
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mu, pak ilmová stáze může být vyvolána dvěma
způsoby. A to kopírováním a editací stejných fotogramů, „ilmogramů“9), nebo v druhém a častějším případě delším nebo dlouhým statickým
záběrem, který samozřejmě v mnoha případech
dovoluje omezený pohyb v záběru, případně modulaci obrazu za pomoci objektivů (anamorickou distorzi, rozostření-ostření obrazu).10)
Stáze, která je předmětem mého zájmu, je především projevem časových a rytmizačních posunů, je také důsledkem náhlé změny v plynutí ilmu, změny senzomotorického vnímání, nikoli
jen projevem nehybného setrvávání záběru. Pokud nehybný záběr trvá, účinek vyvolávající stázi
postupně zaniká, vyprazdňuje se. Transformuje
se do jiného systému. V těchto případech se ilmová stáze rozptyluje v konceptuálním přístupu
dlouhých statických záběrů a jejich přímočaré
funkci, jak ji prezentuje experimentální ilm
60. a 70. let, který systematicky vyčerpával svůj
vlastní koncept právě v extrémní délce jednoho
záběru.11)
Pole ilmové stáze. Reference.
Jediné zmínky týkající se stáze v české odborné
literatuře poukazují na Schraderův koncept jako součást transcendentního stylu ve ilmu.12)
Z mého pohledu posuzuji vyvolání pocitu transcendence jako možný důsledek ilmové stáze.
7) A. Bazin se v tomto kontextu vyjadřuje takto: „[…] estetické schopnosti fotograie spočívají v objevování skutečna. Odraz na mokrém chodníku, gesto dítěte, to všechno nezáviselo na mně, aby bylo rozpoznáno v tkáni
vnějšího světa; […] jenom necitlivost objektivu, který oprostil objekt od návyků a předsudků, od veškerého duševního nánosu, jež obaloval moje vnímání, mohl ten odraz či gesto přiblížit neposkvrněný mé pozornosti,
a tudíž mému zalíbení […].“ André B a z i n , Co je to ilm? Praha: Československý ilmový ústav 1979, s. 18.
8) Roland B a r t h e s , Světlá komora: Poznámka k fotograii. Praha: Agite/Fra 2005, s. 57.
9) Modelovým příkladem je nejznámější dílo vytvořené tímto postupem Rampa (1962) Chrise Markera.
10) Anamorickou distorzi obrazu (ve spojitostí se stází) za pomoci speciických čoček a předsazených skel používá Alexandr Sokurov ve ilmu Matka a syn (1997) nebo Elegie cesty (2001), rozostření obrazu nám v dlouhých sekvencích představuje např. Carlos Reygadas ve ilmu Post Tenebras Lux (2013).
11) Jedná se zejména o ilmy s výjimečnou délkou statického záběru Andyho Warhola Sleep (1963) v délce trvání
5 hodin a 21 min., dále Empire (1964), který trvá 8 hodin 5 min., případně Wavelenght (1967) Michaela
Snowa, 45 min.
12) Fenomén spirituality a transcendentního stylu (ve spojitosti se stází) rozvádí Jaromír B l a ž e j o v s k ý , Spiritualita ve ilmu. Brno: Centrum pro studium demokracie a kultury Brno 2007. Autor odkazuje k dvěma možnostem chápání spirituality ve ilmu. Jedna varianta je náboženská a druhá nenáboženská, kde spirituální efekt
„je vytvářen jistými strukturními kvalitami recipovaného díla, které lze schematicky popsat a racionálně vysvětlit“.
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Transcendující účinek ilmu je v těchto případech
těsně propojen s reprezentací, symbolem, a nikoli bezprostředně se strukturou; je důsledkem literárního „čtení“ obrazů a nacházení jejich „duchovního“ obsahu, nikoli vizuálním útvarem
vyvolávajícím před-jazyková vnuknutí.13) Má disertační práce je založena na zásadním opuštění
dichotomie „formy a obsahu“. Vychází ze základního předpokladu, který spočívá ve splynutí formy a obsahu v jediný strukturální útvar. Můj
přístup k problematice ilmové stáze směřuje
k strukturální povaze ilmu, který chápu jako
proměnu povrchové struktury, podléhající časové
a prostorové re-strukturalizaci v rámci prezentace reálného.14)
Tendence, které přibližují ilm situaci navození
stáze, se začínají historicky objevovat poprvé
v poválečných ilmech italského neorealismu, kdy
pohyb kamery v konkrétních scénách opouští
klasický kánon ilmové narace. Statické nebo pomalé záběry kamery pohyb narace „narušují“
svým váháním, blouděním, někdy i opomíjením
toho, co by si divák možná přál vidět. Termín ilmová stáze (v kontextu italského neorealismu) si
osvojuje J. F. Lyotard ve své přednášce nazvané
„Idea svrchovaného ilmu“ konané v listopadu
1995 v Mnichově.15) Zde nezmiňuje stázi v kontextu avantgardy jako experiment, který vyplňuje
ilmový prostor objemem času, ale chápe tuto
formu jako svrchovanou, nezávislou na autoritě
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příběhu, jako bezelstné setrvávání ilmového záběru, které se může objevit i v komerčním ilmu.
Poukazuje, podobně jako před ním Gilles Deleuze, na ilmy italského neorealismu v období let
1944–1952. Lyotard věnuje ve své přednášce pozornost zejména konkrétní scéně, která je ve skutečnosti až dojemně banální. Žena položí na plotnu rendlík s vodou, aby si uvařila kávu. Kamera
však odmítá sledovat další děj a setrvává svým
pohledem nehnutě na rendlíku, v kterém začíná
vřít voda. Lyotard tuto scénu popisuje slovy:
Jako by ten prostý rendlík, v němž se ohřívá
voda na kávu už celá léta, s vodním kamenem
usazeným na dně, s ohmataným držadlem,
s otlučenými okraji vyprávěl nějaký další příběh. […] Z rendlíku se tak stává dvojznačná
skutečnost, která na jedné straně žije svůj život
podřízený autoritě formy vyprávění, ale na
druhé straně se projevuje ve své svrchované,
nehybné a unikavé materiálnosti, ze všech
stran pospojované nečekanými svazky s dalšími předměty, slovy, situacemi, tvářemi a rukama, jež se na okamžik objevují a hned zase
mizí. Nejsou to vzpomínky, spíše útržky minulých skutečností, nadějí, neočekávaných možností. V těchto chvílích „se zastavuje čas.“ André Bazin napsal o ilmové biograii André
Gida: „Čas se zastavil. Soustředil se do obrazu
a obtěžkal jej úžasným potenciálem.“16)
13) Deleuze komentuje Schraderův koncept stáze následovně: „Takto se příroda či stáze podle Schradera vymezují jako forma, která sjednocuje každodennost v ‘něco uniikovaného a trvalého’. Nemusíme se vůbec dovolávat
nějaké transcendence. V každodenní banalitě mají obraz-akce a dokonce i obraz-pohyb sklon uvolňovat místo čistě optickým situacím, ty však odkrývají vztahy nového typu, které již nejsou senzomotorické a uvádějí
smysly do přímého vztahu s časem, s myšlením. Jde o velmi speciickou extenzi opznaku: učinit čas a myšlení
vnímatelnými, učinit je viditelnými a slyšitelnými.“ Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 2: Obraz-čas. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2006, s. 27.
14) V analýze ilmového obrazu jako struktury, odkazující k povrchu média, čerpám z odkazů na post-deleuzovskou literaturu. Soustřeďuji se na práce autorů (editorů): Ian Buchanan, Simon O’Sullivan, Stephen Zepke, Constantin V. Boundas a Gregory Flaxman. V rámci materiální struktuy a restrukturalizace obrazu se přikláním
k metodě schizoanalýzy, jak ji přibližuje ve dvou svazcích Ian B u c h a n a n – Lorna C o l l i n s (eds.),
Deleuze and the Schizoanalysis of Visual Art. London/New York: Bloomsbury Academic 2014. Ian B u c h a n a n – Patricia M a c C o r m a c k (eds.), Deleuze and the Schizoanalysis of Cinema. London/New York:
Continuum 2008.
15) Jean Francois L y o t a r d , Návrat a jiné eseje. Praha: Herrmann a synové 2002, s. 222.
16) Tamtéž, s. 104–105n.
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Plocha stáze rezonuje a má schopnost rezonovat. Nehledě na samotnou rezonující strukturu
projekce je ilmový obraz „rozechvíván“ ozvěnou
předchozího záběru a dozvukem stáze v tom následujícím. Vnímání účinku ilmové stáze je
v těchto případech především vyvoláno vztahem
pohyblivých záběrů a setrváváním zdánlivě nepohyblivých obrazů a jejich rytmizaci. Rozhodující faktor v oblasti problematiky ilmové stáze —
zpomalení časové rytmizace ilmového obrazu
— posouvá celou úvahu do oblasti, jež má své základy v myšlenkách ontologie vnímání vycházející z fenoménu trvání, jenž byl důsledně promýšlen již od začátku 20. století Henri Bergsonem.
V rámci ilmové teorie je to ale především speciický přístup Gillese Deleuze, který navazuje svou
osobitou interpretací na Bergsonův odkaz17)
a vidí příležitost jak uplatnit svou teorii stávání se
(becoming) právě ve ilmovém obrazu-pohybu.
Deleuze se snaží přizpůsobit si ilm svým požadavkům, tedy ilozoii. Film chápe jako nástroj
ontologie, jako součást ontogeneze (ontologie stávání se), jako jedinečný prostředek aktualizace
virtuálního pole v rámci neustálé proměny obrazu. Ve svém dvousvazkovém díle18) ovšem upřednostňuje aktivní obraz-pohyb před pasivním obrazem-změnou. Pouze v jedné referenci zmiňuje
stav, který se bezprostředně váže k nehybnosti ilmového obrazu, když popisuje scénu trvání záběru zátiší s vázou v díle Jasudžira Ozu Banšun:
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Váza ve ilmu Banšun, (1949) se vsouvá mezi
dívčino pousmání a moment, kdy má slzy na
krajíčku. Je to nastávání, změna, přechod.
Avšak forma toho, co se mění, se sama nemění, nepřechází v něco jiného. Je to čas, zosobněný čas, „trocha času v čistém stavu“: přímý
obraz-čas, který dává tomu, co se mění, neměnnou formu, v níž se tvoří změna.19)
Deleuze právě této změně (která by odpovídala Bergsonově diferenci v povaze20) — proměně
stávání se obrazu bez zjevného pohybu) nevěnuje
příliš prostoru, neboť jeho myšlení — stroj na výrobu konceptů — nesmí ustrnout na hranici pouhého setrvávání, nesmí se nikdy pozastavit. Raymond Bellour podotýká, že nehybnost záběrů
příliš nezapadá do Deleuzovy dynamické taxonomie znaků, týkající se ilmu jako obrazu-pohybu.21)
V červenci 1988, v textu, který je předmluvou
k anglickému vydání Cinema 2: Time-Image
a který vychází tři roky po jeho francouzském vydání, Deleuze uzavírá tuto předmluvu větou:
„Ano, pokud ilm nezahyne násilnou smrtí,
udrží si sílu začátku. Opačně, musíme se podívat na předválečný ilm, dokonce na němý
ilm, pracující s velice čistým obrazem-časem,
který vždy pronikal, zadržoval nebo zahrnoval
obraz-pohyb: Ozuovo zátiší jako neměnná forma času?“ 22)
17) Henri Bergson ovšem chápe ilm jako „falešného spojence“, zejména časová fragmentace posloupností ilmových políček (jako řezů času /coupes/) není v souladu s jeho teorii trvání (durée), jež je charakterizována jako
všepronikající, rozpínající se lux neustálého pohybu. Henri Bergson zemřel v roce 1941, nedožil se tedy plného rozmachu umělecké kinematograie, která započala až s italským neorealismem. (Je dále možné se pouze
hypoteticky domnívat, že by Bergson změnil svůj názor na kinematograii, pokud by se seznámil s možnostmi
„molekulárních“ diferencí v proměnách digitální pixeláže, které umožňují vizualizovat i „diference v povaze“
snímaných objektů, a to v jiném režimu než tradiční ilmový pás).
18) Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 1: Obraz-pohyb. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2000. Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 2:
Obraz-čas. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2006.
19) Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 2: Obraz-čas. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2006, s. 26.
20) „Diference v povaze se prezentuje v čistém trvání; je to vnitřní multiplicita posloupnosti, fúze, uspořádávání,
heterogenity, kvalitativního rozlišování.“ Gilles Deleuze, Bergsonismus. Praha: Garamond 2006 s. 40.
21) Raymond B e l l o u r , he Film Stilled, Between-the-images. Zurich: JRP/Ringier 2002, s. 129.
22) Gilles D e l e u z e , předmluva k anglickému vydání Cinema 2: Time-Image. London: he Athlone Press 1989,
xiii.
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Deleuze je pronásledován představou obrazu
jako „čistého“ času. Jeho myšlení se pohybuje
v bergsonovském modu, jenž chápe i umělecká
díla jako projev stávání se, jako molekulární lux,
který přesahuje rám a „protéká“ jeho vymezením. Film je pro Deleuze speciický proces aktualizace virtuálního pole, ve kterém intenzity, jež
tento proces determinují, spočívají v diferenciačním procesu elementů a jejich vzájemných vztahů uvnitř struktury.23) (Na základě tohoto přístupu tedy není možné porovnávat Deleuzovo
stanovisko k ilmu s žádnou ilmovou teorií,
zejména ne s rigidním schematismem postupů,
vycházejících z re-prezentace a směřujících
k tvorbě „stylu“, vytvářeného individuálními formálními postupy v rámci narace).24) Nepředvídané setrvávání ilmového obrazu je neoddělitelně
spojeno s vědomím-kamerou,25) jež opět nerespektuje plynulost narace. Je zřejmé, že toto
vědomí má schopnost vyvolávat intuici, spojenou
s ontologickou funkcí obrazu, jak na ni poukázal
André Bazin. (Na rozdíl od modelu Sergeje Ejznštejna, jenž využívá účinek střihové skladby
/montáže/ — Bazin preferuje dlouhé záběry ixované kamery právě ve ilmech italského neorealismu). Linii vztahů Bergson-Deleuze-Bazin považuji pro analýzu problematiky ilmové stáze za
nosnou do té míry, že je možné na jejich základech dále stavět.
Pozornost, kterou budu věnovat momentům
nehybnosti pohyblivého média, přichází v době
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ztráty víry v možnosti ontologického potenciálu
ilmu. Jeho „genetická mutace“ proměňuje samotnou podstatu ilmového média do formy
manipulované digitální ikce, která způsobuje
hodnotovou nivelizaci obrazu, získávající status
lhostejného „jakéhokoliv obrazu“. Přímý kontakt
se skutečností před objektivem kamery udržuje
důsledně (a paradoxně) pouze „nejrozšířenější
kinematograie“ světa v podobě sítí bezpečnostních kamer a CCTV okruhů. (Právě zde, v oblasti nekompromisního účelu, spíše než v oblasti komerčního ilmu, můžeme tušit tichý ontologický
potenciál ilmu). Stáze je ovšem vzácný útvar, který je vyvolán vědomím-kamerou, speciickou
rytmizací trvání ilmového záběru skutečnosti
jako aktu ontologického významu.
Událost stáze. Jiný přístup.
To, co je v přítomnosti, je to, co obraz „reprezentuje“, ale nikoli obraz samotný, který, jak ve
ilmu, tak v malířství, by neměl být nikdy zaměněn s tím, co reprezentuje. Samotný obraz
je systém vztahů mezi jeho prvky, to znamená
formace vztahů, z které proměnlivá přítomnost pouze plyne. A v tomto ohledu, myslím,
Tarkovskij vymezuje rozdíl mezi montáží a záběrem, když deinuje ilm jako tlak času v záběru. To, co je speciické pro obraz, jakmile je
tvořivý, je činit vnímatelným, činit viditelným,
časové vztahy, které nemohou být viděny v re-
23) Deleuze poznamenává: „Virtuální není v protikladu k reálnému, ale k aktuálnímu. […] virtuální musí být deinováno vyloženě jako součást reálného objektu — tak jako by objekt měl část sebe ve virtuálním, do kterého
je ponořen jako do objektivní dimenze. […] realita virtuálního sestává z rozdílností elementů a vztahů současně s jednotlivými body, ke kterým se vztahují. Realita virtuálního je struktura.“ Gilles Deleuze, Diference and
Repetition. New York: Columbia University Press 1994, s. 208–9.
24) David Bordwell ve své snaze dobrat se formálních postupů, které činí umělecký ilm uměním a které se odchylují od normativního kanonu Hollywoodu, zavádí termín parametrická narace, jež zahrnuje i pomalost,
případně strnulost záběru. David B o r d w e l l , Narration in the Fiction Film. Madison: he University of Wisconsin Press 1985, s. 274–310. Podle mého názoru je stáze „výpadkem“ v síti narace a nelze ji kvaliikovat jako
jeden z formálních postupů ozvláštnění ilmové řeči.
25) Deleuze situaci vědomí-kamery deinuje následovně: „Již se nenacházíme před obrazy subjektivními nebo objektivními; jsme zachyceni v korelaci mezi obrazem-vjemem a vědomím-kamerou, které tento obraz transformuje. Je to velmi speciální kinematograie, jež přišla na chuť tomu dát ,pocítit kameru’.“ Gilles D e l e u z e ,
Film 1: Obraz-pohyb. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2000, s. 95.
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prezentovaném objektu a nedovolí být reduko-
ním. Vědomí-kamera se stalo reumatem, pro-
vány na přítomnost.26)
tože se aktualizovalo v plynoucím vnímání
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a dospělo tak k materiální determinaci, k hmo-
Pokud se ve ilmovém záběru „nic neděje“, začíná se „dít čas“ a samotná struktura obrazu. Toto
dění je aktivnější než ve statickém obrazu fotograie nebo malby. Na dění samotné struktury ilmu je zaměřen i můj přístup a potažmo má metoda analýzy daného tématu. Ta spočívá v určení
fenoménu, který determinuje imanentní pohyb
v „nehybném“ obrazu stáze. „Pokud obraz o ničem nevypovídá, neříká žádný příběh, děje se
něco stále stejného, něco, co deinuje fungování
samotného obrazu“, komentuje Deleuze ztrátu
narativity v obrazech Francise Bacona.27)
Stáze je vyvolána nejen výpadkem v síti narace,
ale často také radikální formou tohoto výpadku
— rozptýlením, mizením samotného obrazu. Pro
tento stav nalézá Deleuze odpovídající prostředky a pojmenování. Rozsáhlá taxonomie znaků,
kterou uvádí ve svém dvousvazkovém díle, dospěje k samotné „genetické“ stavbě obrazu, k znakům, které opouštějí jistotu igury a pozadí
a postihují kapalný a plynný stav ilmu. Od „diciznaku“, který staví rám a zpevňuje obra,z dochází
k pojmům reuma a gram(engram).
[…] reuma odkazovalo k obrazu, který se stal
kapalným a který protékal rámem nebo pod
tě odtékání. Gram je znakem samotné geneze:
[…] pohyb musí sám sebe překonat, avšak
směrem ke svému energetickému prvku. Plynný status vnímání je gram, engram, stav neklidné, plynné substance, znak samotné geneze obrazu.28)
Deleuze dále poznamenává: „Vědomí-kamera
stoupá k určení, které již není formální a materiální, nýbrž genetické a diferenciální“. Jako příklad
přechodu ilmového záznamu od kapalného stavu k plynnému uvádí Deleuze ilm Bardo
Follies, který natočil (v několika variacích)
v roce 1966 George Landow.29)
Ve své disertační práci vycházím z předpokladu, že ilm tvoří soubory jedinečných molekulárních formací. Jako nosnou koncepci pro svou
práci považuji Deleuzovo a Guattariho rozlišení
a upřednostnění intenzit v rámci diferencí a diferenciací, afekty obrazu jako pohyby molárního
a molekulárního seskupení.30) Zatímco molární
jsou formace tvarů a jejich exprese, molekulární
je samotné stávání se. Deleuze je schopen v rámci
tohoto přístupu jít — za, respektive — před stav,
kdy díla jsou posuzována z hlediska sémiotické
funkce jako re-prezentace reality.
26) Gilles D e l e u z e , předmluva k anglickému vydání Cinema 2, Time-Image, London: he Athlone Press, 1989,
xii.
27) Gilles D e l e u z e , Francis Bacon: logic of sensation. London/New York: Continuum 2003, s. 12.
28) Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 1: Obraz-pohyb. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2000, s. 102–108.
29) Film George Landowa Bardo Follies (1966) začíná smyčkou s komerčním záznamem plavající ženy; ilm
začíná teplem měnit svou strukturu a posléze se propaluje. Obraz ve smyčkách fyzicky shoří a promění se
v bubliny vzduchu ve vodě. Podobný fenomén zpracovává Hollis Frampton ve ilmu Hapax Legomena I: Nostalgia (1971). Frampton nechává v průběhu dlouhého statického záběru postupně pomalu pálit a nakonec
úplně zuhelnatět realistické fotograie na elektrickém vařiči. Mimo tuto experimentální oblast jsou ovšem často
použity fenomény v podobě mraků, mlhy, páry, deště, vodního proudu, které jsou dynamickými elementy imanentního pohybu uvnitř ilmového obrazu.
30) V příspěvku nazvaném „he Event of Painting“, který byl zařazen do souboru studií: Ian B u c h a n a n – Lorna C o l l i n s (eds.), Deleuze and the Schizoanalysis of Visual Art, Bloomsbury 2014, představuje Andrea
E c k e r s l e y svou studii abstraktní malby výhradně z pozice intenzit diferencí molekulárního napětí povrchu. Schizoanalytický přístup, který je současně trancendentální a materiální, klade právě důraz na intenzity
molekulárního proudu, afektu, uvnitř virtuální/aktuální sítě rizomatu, který může mít v tomto případě povahu samotného média.
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Na základě analýzy konkrétních scén z ilmových děl (Michaela Hanekeho, Bély Tarra, Wernera Herzoga, Alexandra Sokurova, Carlose Reygadase, Michelangela Antonioniho) se zaměřím
na podchycení tří fenoménů, které aktivují stázi
a které, zpětně, ilmová stáze vyvolává:
1) komprese prostorové iluze a jejich elementů
do planární struktury;
2) rytmizace opakování samotné diference ilmového obrazu;
3) působení energie mimo-obrazového pole.
1) Stáze. Komprese ilmového „prostoru“.
Komprese ilmového „prostoru“ do speciické planární struktury v záběrech, které vyvolávají účinek stáze, je vyvolána relativní nehybností obrazu, kdy prostor není „prohlubován“ pohybem
kamery. Extenzivní prostor ilmové akce je v těchto případech nahrazen intenzivní plochou „těkání“ samotné struktury obrazu. Dochází zde k obratu od Albertiho hloubky prostoru a perspektivy
v iluzi obrazu ke vzniku „časových struktur“ založených na trvání, diferenciacích, proměnách
zrna ilmového obrazu. Pojetí tohoto prostoru již
přiblížil Maurice Merleau Ponty. Je charakterizováno spíše než jako prostor jako místo, kde probíhají vibrace igury a pozadí.31) (Určitou paralelou
může být pojetí času u Henriho Bergsona. Jeho
durée již není obsaženo v čase a prostoru jednoduše proto, že je samotné vitální stávání se času
a prostoru). V oblasti estetiky vizuálního umění
dochází k tomuto procesu při práci s „rozpouštěním“ obrazu do množiny „zrna“, do neurčitosti
vztahu igury a pozadí, do barevných intenzit
P RO JE K T Y
v nuanci. Tento projev se začíná objevovat v dějinách novodobého malířství v krajinomalbách
J. M. W. Turnera, pokračuje „molekularizací“ obrazů u G. Seurata, intenzitami barevného pole
v repetici stejných námětů u C. Moneta a pokračuje až k sublimní monochromii M. Rothka,
B. Newmana, R. Rymana. „Molekularizace“ obrazu, těkání elementů planární struktury ve ilmu
může být způsobena proměnami zrna, případně
digitálním „šumem“. Velký podíl na tomto přístupu měl proces, který je nazván re-fotograie: záznam fotograie samotnou fotograií, případně
ilmování samotné ilmové projekce. Nejznámějším dílem je Tom, Tom, the Piper’s Son (1969)
Kena Jacobse. Michelangelo Antonioni ve svém
ilmu Zvětšenina (1966) přibližuje tuto techniku dříve než experimentální ilm (v závěrečném
setrvávání kamery na fotograii moře ve Wavelenght [1967] Michaela Snowa).
Na příkladech konkrétních ilmových děl bude
poukázáno na fakt, že klasikové ilmu, kterým
byly přisuzovány principy transcendentního,
„duchovního“ přístupu k ilmu, jako je Jasudžiro
Ozu, ale především Robert Bresson, se nemýlili,
když poukazovali na plošnost nebo dokonce planární „povrchovost“ obrazů, které (zejména
u ruských autorů) jako by směřovaly k návratu
k malířské ikonograi (u Andreje Tarkovského
a Alexandra Sokurova).32)
2) Rozdílnost a opakování.
Film není pohyb, ilm je projekce ilmového
okénka (still) — to znamená obrazů, které se
nehýbou — ve velmi rychlém rytmu. A vy získáváte iluzi pohybu, samozřejmě, ale to je
31) Henry Somers-Hall tvrdí: „Pontyho koncepce hloubky se přibližuje Bergsonově koncepci času. Hloubka již
není prostor v konvenčním smyslu série dimenzí, v kterých pohyby objektů mohou být měřeny, ale místo, kde
jsou vztahy mezi objekty formovány jako diferenciační procesy. Henry S o m e r s - H a l l , Deleuze and Merleau-Ponty, Aesthetics of Diference. In: Constantin V. B o u n d a s (ed.), Gilles Deleuze: he Intensive Reduction. London/New York: Continuum 2009, s. 123–131.
32) Tyto obrazy se často objevují ve ilmech Alexandra Sokurova, např. Elegie cesty (2001) a Hubert Robert.
Šťastný život (1999). U Wernera Herzoga mají charakter přízračných krajin ve ilmu Každý pro sebe a bůh
proti všem (1974).
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zvláštní případ a ilm byl vynalezen pro tento
zvláštní případ. V čem tedy spočívá vyjadřovací schopnost ilmu? Ejzenštejn například prohlásil, že ilm je kolize dvou záběrů. Ale je velice podivné, že nikdo nikdy neřekl, že ilm není
mezi záběry, ale mezi rámečky — to je to, co
bych nazval záběr, když jeden rámeček je velice podobný dalšímu rámečku.33)
Peter Kubelka, představitel vídeňské ilmové
avantgardy 50. a 60. let minulého století, použil
tuto lapidární deinici ilmového procesu jako
příklad nepatrné diferenciace. Pokud připustíme,
že ilm je obrazový diferenciační stroj, pak trvání
nebo momenty ilmové stáze jsou momenty s minimálními rozdíly, minimální diferenciací mezi
jednotlivými políčky ilmu v trvání, toku ilmových obrazů. Cílem této kapitoly bude poukázat
na rytmizaci minimální diference obrazů a nastolení, metaforicky řečeno, vizuální „mantry“, kdy
kvantita obrazů s minimální diferencí se proměňuje v novou, odhalující kvalitu (podobně jako je
tomu u hudebního minimalismu). Tato kapitola
bude zahrnovat to, co se, z elementárního hlediska, děje v rámci ilmové stopy během trvání ilmové stáze. Tedy problematiku diference a repetice — rozdílnosti a opakování. Zdrojem procesu
kvalitativních posunů vyvěrajících s kvantitativní
repetice bude v mé disertační práci dílo Gillese
Deleuze Diference and Repetition z roku 1968.34)
Protiklady, kontrasty nejsou u Deleuze projevem maximální diference, ale minimem opakování, protiklad je opakování omezené na dvě, které je ozvěnou a návratem k sobě, opakování, které
nalezlo prostředek, aby sebe samé deinovalo jako
diferenci. V konzumní společnosti je opakování
často chápáno jako periodicita nebo statistická
kvantita, opakování je nahodilé a přerušuje po-
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zornost. Skutečná rytmizace opakování stejných
políček ve ilmové stázi má charakter vznikající
nové intenzity. V rámci diferencí můžeme tvrdit,
že ilm je již výše zmíněným diferenciačním strojem. V současnosti je tento stroj nastaven tak, aby
se struktura jednotlivých políček lišila od sebe co
nejvíce. Film se má přibližovat explozi, která
ohrožuje diváka. Minimální diference skoro stejných políček ilmu u ilmové stáze je čistým trváním obrazů bez zjevných změn. Je to trvání pohybujících se obrazů, které už nedávají důraz na
„prostorové relace“ v diferenci odlišných obrazů,
ale vztahují se v opakující se minimální diferenci
k sobě samým navzájem v čase trvání. Peter Hallward popisuje Deleuzovu ilosoii opakování takto: „Tvořivé opakování může být myšleno pouze
jako opakování samotné diference. Skutečné opakování musí zahrnovat intuici naprosto jedinečných událostí, diferencí, které nemohou být zaměněny nebo nahrazeny.“35) Diferující diference,
trvání pouhého rozlišování rozlišení obrazu je podle mého názoru klíčem k chápání stáze i možného transcendujícího účinku obrazu.
3) Energie mimo-obrazového pole.
Filmová stáze má schopnost aktivovat energii mimoobrazového pole. To je aktivováno rytmizací,
časem toku stejných obrazů v kontextu ilmu. Mimoobrazové pole je podmíněno existencí obrazu.
Divák většinou existenci mimoobrazového pole
nevnímá, neboť je plně zaneprázdněn děním
uvnitř ilmových obrazů. Uvědomění si problematiky mimoobrazového pole vychází ze situace,
kterou už zaznamenává André Bazin. Popisuje rozdíl mezi malířským dílem a ilmovým záběrem:
Proti prostoru přírody a naší aktivní zkušenosti, která vytyčuje vnější meze přírody, rám
33) Peter Kubelka v rozhovoru s Jonasem Mekasem. In: P. Adams S i t n e y , Visionary Film: the American Avant-Garde, 1943–2000. New York: Oxford University Press 2002, s. 286.
34) V disertační práci vycházím z prvního anglického překladu Paula Pattona: Gilles D e l e u z e , Diference and
Repetition. New York: Columbia University Press 1994.
35) Peter H a l l w a r d , Out of this World, Deleuze and the Philosophy of Creation. London/New York: Verso, 2006,
s. 71.
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u obrazů staví prostor zaměřený dovnitř; prostor k pozorování je otevřen pouze dovnitř obrazu. […] a naopak všechno, co nám ukazuje
ilmové plátno, se údajně rozšiřuje donekonečna, do světa. Rám je dostředivý, ilmové plátno
odstředivé. Z toho plyne, že obrátíme-li malířský postup naruby a vložíme ilmové plátno do
rámu, prostor obrazu ztratí svou orientaci hranice a zapůsobí na naši představivost jako cosi
neomezeného.36)
Deleuze připomíná, že mimoobrazové pole se
vztahuje k velkému celku, který je ovlivněn děním uvnitř rámu obrazů. Toto dění má tendenci
být jednak nasyceno, jednak zředěno. Pro „pozornost bloudící kamery“ nemá tedy význam výrazný pohyb na mizanscéně, ale nepatrný pohyb nasycení nebo zředění samotné struktury ilmového
obrazu. Termín „pozornost kamery“ je zde důležitý, neboť opět přisuzuje kameře vědomí.
Deleuze rozlišuje dva aspekty mimoobrazového pole ve ilmu:
1) relativní aspekt, který „označuje mimoobrazové pole jako něco, co existuje jinde, stranou
nebo okolo obrazu“, a druhý;
2) absolutní aspekt, „jímž se uzavřený systém
otevírá trvání, které je imanentní celku vesmíru, který již není souborem a nepatří do
řádu viditelného“.
[…] v druhém případě svědčí mimoobrazové
pole o ještě více zneklidňující přítomnosti,
o níž dokonce ani nedovedeme říci, zda existuje, ale spíš že „doléhá“ (insiste) nebo že „přetrvává“ (subsiste), určitě radikálnější jinde,
mimo homogenní prostor i čas.37)
P RO JE K T Y
Protože stáze je iniciována nehybností kamery
a trváním záběru, druhý, tedy absolutní aspekt
může připadat v úvahu. Pro zkoumání tohoto
jevu je důležité určit souřadnice obrazu a mimoobrazového pole. Vycházím z předpokladu, že ilmový obraz je jen nepatrnou výsečí, jen jakýmsi
„bodovým nasvícením“ nekonečné sítě, jejíž
energie má jak dostředivou, tak odstředivou
funkci. Přikláním se k modelu, který zmiňuje Rosalind Krauss ve svém textu nazvaném Grids
(Mřížky) z roku 1978 a který analyzuje centripetální (dostředivou) a centrifugální (odstředivou)
funkci mřížky. Jako nejnázornější příklad uvádí
Krauss malířské dílo Pieta Mondriana.38)
Pro mou disertační práci bude nejdůležitější
analyzovat stav, kdy trvání jednoho záběru vytváří v obrazech prostředí „podtlaku,“ který je
charakterizován chvěním, rezonancí elementů
v „mělkém prostoru“. Aby tušení absolutního mimoobrazového pole mohlo vstupovat do záběru,
pohyb kamery nesmí rychle „odnímat“ okolní realitu, ale záběr se musí pozastavit. Zředění a zahuštění elementů v „mělkém prostoru“ projekce
umožňuje zvýšit tlak a později vstup absolutního
mimoobrazového pole do záběru. Tlak absolutního mimoobrazového pole daný „časo-prostorovou kompresí“ považuji za prvotní fenomén,
který později nabývá charakter přesahu, transcendence.
Závěr
Má zkušenost s vnímáním povahy nepohyblivých
obrazů ve výtvarném umění a „znění“ forem
v současné hudbě přispěla k vytvoření názorové
platformy, která chápe obraz v odlišnému modu
myšlení. Tento modus se dlouhodobě ustálil v ob-
36) André B a z i n , Co je to ilm? Praha: Československý ilmový ústav 1979, s. 145. Problematika mimoobrazového pole je zahrnuta do analytických studií — Nöel B u r c h , Nana or the Two Kinds of Space. In.: heory of
Film Practice. New York: Praeger 1973, s. 17–29. Pascal B o n i t z e r , Décadrages: Cinéma et peinture. Paris:
Editions de Difusion, Seuil 1985. David W i l s o n (ed.), Cahiers Du Cinema, Volume 4: 1973–1978: History,
Ideology, Cultural Struggle, Decadrage (Deframings) New York: Routledge 2000, s. 197–203. (Částečný český
překlad „Odrámování“, Iluminace 15, 2003, č. 4, s. 31–34.).
37) Gilles D e l e u z e , Film 1: Obraz-pohyb. Praha: Národní ilmový archiv 2000, s. 29.
38) Rosalind E. K r a u s s , Grids: he Originality of the Avant-Garde and Other Modernist Myths. Cambridge: he
MIT Press 1985, s. 18–21.
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lasti krajní redukce významové funkce obrazů,
a to až do té míry, že tato funkce začala splývat
s charakterem samotného „nosiče“, samotného
„podkladu“ sdělení, který touto konverzí vytváří
nový útvar. V tomto ohledu je má disertační práce soustředěna na primární funkci ilmového obrazu jako planární struktury, která je podrobena
speciickým molekulárním a molárním vztahům.39) Stáze, jako jedinečný útvar, který je vyvolán částečnou nehybností ilmového obrazu, uniká re-prezentaci; její účinek se projevuje vpádem,
prolomením narace i ilmové iluze, která po uplynutí stáze opět navrátí ilm pochodům re-prezentace pod diktátem narace v „prostoru“ ilmu.
Přesto, že chápání ilmového obrazu jako pohybu
struktur na molekulární bázi se zdá být příliš
ochuzující, považuji za podstatné poukázat na genetickou podstatu ilmu, jež může být zpřítomněna právě pádem do „nehybnosti“. Výjimečné scény v kontextu myslícího ilmu, tedy ty, které jsou
schopny vyvolat stázi, jsou vytvořeny výjimečnou
formací molekulárních seskupení, které nesledují
rychlost, „nepronásledují“ skutečnost, ale tato seskupení setrvávají v „přešlapování na místě“, kde
se skutečnost navrací v plné síle.
Václav Krůček
(vaclavkrucek@hotmail.com)
(Vedoucí disertační práce: PhDr. Kateřina
Svatoňová Ph.D., Katedra ilmových studií,
FF UK Praha, 2. rok řešení)
39) Většina diskursů, týkající se ilmového obrazu, nebere v úvahu povahu podkladu projekce. Pokud ilmová projekce nezachytí screen, rozptýlí se v prostoru. Hubert Damisch charakterizuje obecně iluzi obrazu jako “anihilaci substrátu” umrtvení podkladu, Hubert D a m i s c h , Our Sheet’s White Care. In: Hubert D a m i s c h ,
A heory of /Cloud/ Toward a history of painting. Stanford University Press 2002, s. 224. Podklad, substrát,
považuji vždy za nedílnou součást obrazu, i když se jedná o mentální obraz, který je vázán na síť vláken,
neuronů atd.
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P Ř Í LO H A
Z přírůstků Knihovny NFA
ALQUATI, Roberto
Orbite : attorno al cinema di fantascienza cecoslovacco
/ Roberto Alquati. -- 1a ed. -- [Praha] : Urbone Publishing, 2014. -- 166 s. -- Úvod, poznámky v textu, ilmograie, o autorovi - Bibliograie na s. 160–162 - Knižní studie zkoumající v historickém a mezižánrovém
kontextu československé a české sci-i a fantastické ilmy všech metráží a druhů (hrané, animované a televizní) od němé éry až po současnost. Téměř polovinu knihy zabírá chronologicky řazený přehled konkrétních
ilmových titulů s obsahovými charakteristikami. -ISBN 978-80-87797-62-4 (brož.)
ANIMATION
Animation from East Europe : creators in Poland,
Czech, and Croatia : [he Museum of Modern Art, Hayama, 27 September 2014 - 12 January 2015]. -- [Tokyo
: Kyuryudo, 2014]. -- 146 s. : il. (většinou batrev.), portréty. -- Částečně text v angličtině - Bibliograie na
s. 143 - Katalog ke stejnojmenné výstavě o animovaném
ilmu a jeho tvůrcích ze tří východoevropských zemí
(Polsko, Česká republika a Chorvatsko), která se konala
27. září 2014–12. ledna 2015 v japonské Hayamě. -ISBN 978-4-7630-1446-7 (brož.)
ANTONISZ
Antonisz : technology for me is a form of art / edited by
Joanna Kordjak-Piotrowska. -- Warsaw : Zachęta - National Gallery of Art, 2013. -- 249 s. : il. (většinou barev.), portréty, faksim. + 1 DVD. -- Poznámky v textu,
citáty, ilmograie J. Antonisze - Bibliograie na s. 164–
–165 - Kniha ke stejnojmenné výstavě, která se konala
22. 1.–17. 3. 2013 ve varšavské umělecké galerii Zachęta, je první průřezovou publikace shrnující všechny činnosti, Juliana Antoniszczaka - spoluzakladatele legendárního Studia animovaných ilmů v Krakově, režiséra
experimentálních animovaných ilmů, hudebníka a vynálezce. Autoři textů analyzují nejen fenomén Antoniszových ilmů, ale i jeho jazyk, hudbu a konstruktérskou
činnost, díky které rozvinul technika tvorby non-came-
rových ilmů. V knize se nacházejí rovněž texty restaurátorů Antoniszových ilmů a přístrojů a umělcových
dcer, Malviny a Sabiny Antoniszczakovými. Publikace
obsahuje velmi bohatý ilustrativní materiál (více než
500 obrázky), zobrazující umělcovu dílnu včetně současné dokumentace jeho pracovny a soukromých fotograií z rodinného archivu. Kniha je doplněna DVD
s výběrem 16 Antoniszových ilmů. -- ISBN 978-8360713-74-7 (brož.)
ARONSON, Linda
Scénář pro 21. století / Linda Aronsonová ; [z anglického originálu … přeložila Michaela Graeberová ; redakce překladu Zdeněk Holý ; konzultace terminologie Jiří
Dufek, Vilém Hakl]. -- 1. vyd. -- Praha : Akademie muzických umění v Praze (Nakladatelství AMU), 2014. -337 s. -- Autor předmluvy Paul hompson - Úvod,
poznámky v textu, poznámka k překladu, diagramy Rejstřík - Jedna z nejuznávanějších publikací věnovaných psaní ilmových scénářů. Autorka na základě klasických scenáristických příruček a pečlivého studia
ilmů, které zavedená pravidla s úspěchem porušují, vytvořila komplexní praktickou rukověť pro scenáristy.
Podrobně se věnuje scénáři klasického i uměleckého ilmu a dospívá až ke snímkům jako 21 Gramů, Pulp Fiction, Memento či Věčný svit neposkvrněné mysli. Praktický rozměr příručky posilují rady věnované aspektům
tvůrčího psaní, jako například časově efektivnímu psaní, kreativitě pod tlakem či aspiracím na mezinárodní
soutěže. - Název originálu: 21st century screenplay :
a comprehensive guide to writing tomorrow‘s ilms /
Aronson, Linda, 1950–. -- [Australia] : Allen & Unwin,
2010. -- ISBN 978-80-7331-314-2 (brož.)
BALABANOV
Balabanov / [sostavitěli Ljubov Arkus, Marija Kuvšinova, Konstantin Šavlovskij]. -- Sankt-Petěrbug : Knižnyje
mastěrskije : Mastěrskaja „Seans“, 2013. -- 350 s. : il.,
portréty. -- Poznámky v textu, výňatky, ilmograie A.
Balabanova - Proilová kolektivní monograie zachycuje ve studiích, kritických ohlasech a rozhovorech život
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a tvorbu předčasně zesnulého ruského ilmového režiséra Andreje Balabanova (1959–2013). -- ISBN 978-5605586-08-8 (Knižnyje mastěrskije : váz.). -- ISBN 9785-905669-13-2 (Mastěrskaja Seans : váz.)
bov, Ivetka a hora) i obecnějších problémech. -- ISBN
978.80-7443-109-8 (Větrné mlýny : váz.). -- ISBN 97880-7331-332-6 (Akademie múzických umění v Praze :
váz.)
BĚLOBRÁDEK, Jan
Jaroslav Celba : melodie, které zná každý / Jan Bělobrádek. -- Vyd. 1. -- [Velká Jesenice] : Lenicon, 2014. -- 193
s. : il., portréty, noty, faksim. -- Seznam partitur a písní
- Životopisná kniha zachycuje pozoruhodné osudy hudebního skladatele a muzikanta Jaroslava Celby, který
na své životní pouti prošel od mládí po boku spolužáka
Josefa Škvoreckého přes útrapy komunistického lágru
v Jáchymově až po studium Lidové konzervatoře
a úspěšnou dráhu profesionálního skladatele, autora
hudby k desítkám animovaných ilmů a večerníčkových
seriálů. Kniha je vybavena řadou fotograií a autentických vzpomínek, v níž jsou zmíněny i osudy zajímavých osobností z autorova blízkého okolí (Pavel Bayerle, Josef Škvorecký, Jaroslav Štajnc, Zdeněk Smetana,
Jaroslav Cita, Gene Deitch a mnozí další). -- ISBN 97880-905895-0-6 (váz.)
KOLGANOV, Vladimir Alexejevič
German, ili, Božij čelovek = Herrmann : Jurij German,
Alexaj German, Alexej German-mladšij / Vladimir
Kolganov. -- Moskva : Centrpoligraf, 2014. -- 316 s. -Úvod, ilmograie - Bibliograie - Kniha pojednává
o dynastii spisovatelů a ilmařů Germanových. Jurij
Pavlovič German - populární dramatik a romanopisec
30.–60. let minulého století. Alexej Jurjevič German
a Alexej German mladší psali scénáře a natáčeli ilmy,
které vzbuzovaly pozornost ilmových kritiků, festivalových porotců i diváků. Úkol, který si autor zadal - pokusit se najít původ kreativity, pochopit psychologii
tvůrců a vysvětlit alespoň pro sebe, proč tak mnoha
různými způsoby došli k úspěchu Jurij German, jeho
syn a vnuk. -- ISBN 978-5-227-05084-7 (váz.)
DYCHANIJE
Dychanije kamňa : mir ilmov Andreja Zvjaginceva /
[Ljumila Kljujeva … et al.]. -- Moskva : Novoje litěraturnoje obozrenije, 2014. -- 453 s. : il. -- Úvod, citáty,
poznámky v textu, ilmograie A. Zvjaginceva - Kolektivní monograie je prvním pokusem zahájit seriózní
diskuzi o osobité ilmové estetice a poetice ilmů Andreje Zvjaginceva. Předkládny jsou texty ilmových kritiků a estetiků, věnovaných analýze režisérových ilmů,
a také rozhovory s členy tvůrčího štábu (speciálně připraveny pro tento sborník) a další materiály. -- ISBN
978-5-4448-0083-6 (váz.)
GENERACE
Generace Jihlava / [podle námětu Michala Procházky
a Radima Procházky ; k vydání připravila Lucie Česálková]. -- V češtině vyd. 1. -- [Brno] : Větrné mlýny ;
Praha : Akademie múzických umění v Praze, 2014. -334 s. : il., portréty. -- (Vysočina). -- Úvody, poznámky
v textu, o autorech - Texty sborníku jsou esejistickým
kritickým ohlédnutím za trendem, jejž lze v české dokumentaristice sledovat od poloviny či přesněji konce
90. let a jejž ovlivnil porevoluční rozvoj Katedry dokumentární tvorby FAMU a vznik jihlavského festivalu.
Šest nejzajímavějších autorů píšících o ilmu (Petr Fischer, Jan Kolář, Matěj Nytra, Antonín Tesař, Michal
Procházka, Lucie Česálková, Magda Španihelová) vede
dialog se šesti nejvýraznějšími zástupci nejsilnější porevoluční ilmařské generace (Filip Remunda, Vít Klusák,
Erika Hníková, Jan Gogola ml., Vít Janeček, Martin Mareček a Lucie Králová) o jejich klíčových dílech (Český
sen, Nonstop, Hry prachu, Ztracená dovolená, Nesvat-
LOVEJOY, Alice
Army ilm and the avant garde : cinema and experiment
in the Czechoslovak military / Alice Lovejoy. -- Bloomington : Indiana University Press, 2015. -- xiii, 305 s.,
[8] s. barev. obr. příl. : il. (některé barev.). -- Úvod, poznámky na s. 205–232, ilmograie, o autorce - Bibliograie na s. 233–247, rejstřík - Knižní studie, která vychází z autorčiny stejnojmenné diplomové doktorské
práce z Yalské univerzity (2009), se pokouší odpovědět
na otázku, jak výrobní systém Československého armádního ilmu reagoval na liberalizaci 60. let a následnou sovětskou invazi a jak se v něm realizovaly umělecké ambice mladých ilmařů. Ačkoliv bylo studio
považováno především za výrobce propagandistických
a vzdělávacích ilmů, někteří významní „novovlní“ režiséři začali svou kariéru právě tam. Americká ilmová
historička zkoumá institucionální a státní kořeny poválečného československého ilmu a poskytuje důkazy
o vztazích studia armádního ilmu s československým
uměleckým ilmem. Součástí knihy je DVD s 13 krátkými ilmy z produkce Čs. ministerstva obrany z let 19381969. -- ISBN 978-0-253-01488-7 (brož.)
MALANÍKOVÁ, Hana
Autenticita ve světě médií : televizní příběh / Hana Malaníková. -- Vyd. 1. -- Praha : Brkola, 2014. -- 183 s. -Prolog, citáty, poznámky v textu, anglické resumé - Bibliograie na s. 176–181, rejstřík - Kniha je autorčiným
osobním svědectvím o hledání pravdivého a svébytného projevu televizního moderátora v náročné komunikační situaci: vystupování na veřejnosti bez veřejnosti.
-- ISBN 978-80-905714-5-7 (brož.)
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MALÍK, Vladimír
Vývoj animačných technológií od „Cesty do praveku“
po „Jurský park“ / Vladimír Malík. -- Vyd. 1. -- Bratislava : VŠMU Bratislava, 2008. -- 90 s. -- Úvod - Bibliograie na s. 87–88 - Učební text zaměřený na animační
technologie pracující s trojrozměrnými objekty v kombinací s reálnou akcí živých aktérů. V úvodní části se
autor pokouší deinovat pojmy animace, animační
technika a technologie, ve druhé části pak prostřednictvím analýzy významných ilmových děl načrtává rozvoj tohoto druhu animovaného ilmu. -- ISBN 978-8085182-96-6 (brož.)
MOTEJLOVÁ-MANOLOVÁ, Marija
Ukotvené stíny = [Vgradeni senki] / Marija Motejlová-Manolova. -- Praha : Komise Rady hl. m. Prahy pro oblast národnostních menšin na území hl. m. Prahy : Bulharská kulturně osvětová organizace v ČR, 2003. -- 171
s. : il., portréty. -- Souběžný bulharský text - Na tit. s.
uvedeno též: Soia - Dvoujazyčná kniha autobiograických vzpomínek absolventky FAMU a bulharské manželky prof. Josefa Motejla (1928–1997), pedagoga pražské FAMU a hlavního kameramana čs. televize na čtyři
desítky let společného života. -- ISBN 80-239-0933-9
(brož.)
ÖSTERREICHISCHES FILMMUSEUM (VÍDEŇ,
RAKOUSKO)
Fünfzig Jahre Österreichisches Filmmuseum : 1964–
–2014 / herausgegeben von Eszter Kondor, Alexander
Horwath, Paolo Caneppele. -- Wien : Synema — Gesellschat für Film und Medien, 2014. -- 3 sv. : il. (některé
barev.), portréty, faksim. -- (FilmmuseumSynemaPublikationen). -- Svazky ve společném kartonovém obalu Poznámky v textu, anglické resumé, o autorech - Bibliograie - Obsahuje: Aubrechen : die Gründung des
Österreichischen Filmmuseums / Eszter Kondor. FilmmuseumSynemaPublikationen. Bd. 20. 223 s. - Das
sichtbare Kino : fünfzig Jahre Filmmuseum - Texte, Bilder, Dokumente / herausgegeben von Alexander Horwath. FilmmuseumSynemaPublikationen. Bd. 21. 351
s. - Kollektion: fünfzig Objekte - Filmgeschichten aus
der Sammlung des Österreichischen Filmmuseums /
herausgegeben von Paolo Caneppele und Alexander
Horwath. FilmmuseumSynemaPublikationen. Bd. 22.
191 s. - Třísvazková kronika a jubilejní antologie mapující ve faktograických přehledech, vzpomínkách a svědectví pamětníků, archivních dokumentačních a obrazových materiálech padesátiletou historii, sbírky
a činnost Rakouského ilmového muzea ve Vídni. První
svazek je věnován okolnostem založení, druhá kniha
zachycuje prostřednictvím stovky textů, bohaté korespondence, dokumentů a 200 fotograií všechny pořádané akce (výstavy, projekce), vydané publikace a svě-
P Ř Í LO H A
tové i domácí ilmaře, kteří tuto instituci navštívili.
Třetí díl nabízí dobrodružné putování ilmovou historií
skrz padesát vybraných objektů z různých sbírek Filmového muzea. -- ISBN 978-3-901644-53-5 (soubor :
brož.). -- ISBN 978-3-901644-54-2 (Aubrechen :
brož.). -- ISBN 978-3-901644-55-9 (Das sichtbare Kino
: brož.). -- ISBN 978-3-901644-56-6 (Kollektion : brož.)
SPOLEČENSKÉ
Společenské vědy a audiovize / Helena Bendová, Matěj
Strnad (eds.) ; [autoři textů Ferdinand de Saussure … et
al.]. -- 1. vyd. -- Praha : NAMU, 2014. -- 763 s. -- Autor
doslovu Miroslav Petříček - Úvod, poznámky v textu,
anglické resumé - Rejstřík jmenný - Interdisciplinární
antologie teoretických textů rozličných společenských
a humanitních věd předkládá ukázky studií, které výrazně ovlivnily naše uvažování o audiovizi. Sborník se
pokouší seznámit komplexním způsobem se všemi relevantními společenskými i humanitními vědami (estetika, ilosoie, jazykověda, literární věda, psychologie,
sociologie, antropologie, kulturální studia, politologie…) a s jednotlivými koncepty, které dodnes odborná
veřejnost používá k uvažování o společnosti, médiích
a umění (např. ideologie, znak, autor, gender, deinice
umění, interpretace, otázka vkusu a hodnocení umění).
Výběr více než dvaceti studií zastupují významní autoři, jakými jsou Saussure, Freud, Bartlett, Popper, Mukařovský, Althusser, Bourdieu, Foucault, Radwayová, Butlerová a další. -- ISBN 978-80-7331-313-5 (brož.)
SYROVÝ, Václav
Hudební zvuk : příspěvek k teorii zvukové tvorby / Václav Syrový. -- 2. dopl. vyd. -- Praha : Akademie múzických umění v Praze, 2014. -- 317 s. -- (Akustická
knihovna Zvukového studia Hudební fakulty AMU ; 9).
-- Předmluva, úvod, anglické resumé - Bibliograie na
s. 305–309, rejstřík věcný - Publikace představuje pokus
o průnik do světa tvůrčí práce se zvukem coby nositelem hudební informace, nikoliv však v podobě souhrnu
pragmatických pouček, jak tvořit zvuk, ale jako teoretická relexe jevů, dějů a postupů, se kterými se tvůrci
zvuku i jejich posluchači denně setkávají. Autor v ní
shrnul nejenom své životní „zvukařské“ zkušenosti, ale
také důležité „vedlejší“ poznatky výzkumných projektů,
kterých se jako řešitel či spoluřešitel zúčastnil. Čtenář je
postupně seznamován se způsoby práce se zvukem,
s existenčními podobami zvuku a jejich interpretací
a se základními psychologickými aspekty, se kterými se
může každodenně setkat jak při aktivní práci se zvukem, tak při jeho pouhém pasivním vnímání. -- ISBN
978-80-7331-161-2 (brož.)
TIRARD, Laurent
Lekce ilmu / Laurent Tirard ; [z francouzského originálu … přeložila Alena Smithee]. -- 1. vyd. v českém jazy-
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ce. -- Praha : Dokořán, 2014. -- 351 s. : portréty. -Úvod, předmluva, citáty, ilmograie v textu, o autorovi
- Kniha rozhovorů o ilmové tvorbě, které vedl francouzský režisér a novinář Laurent Tirard s 39 proslulými a uznávanými světovými režiséry (Miloš Forman,
Woody Allen, Jean-Luc Godard, Martin Scorsese, Jim
Jarmusch, Pedro Almodóvar, Wong Kar-wai, Wim
Wenders, bratři Coenové, Lars von Trier a mnozí další),
se do tématu ponořuje o něco hlouběji, než tomu u běžných interview bývá, a odkrývá technické, tvůrčí či názorové aspekty práce ilmového režiséra. Tirard položil
všem zpovídaným autorům tytéž otázky, takže čtenář
může jejich odpovědi sledovat a vzájemně porovnávat. Název originálu: Leçons de cinéma / Tirard, Laurent,
1967-. -- Paris : Nouveau Monde éditions, 2009. -- ISBN
978-80-7363-615-9 (váz.)
Připravil Miloš Fikejz.
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V Ý Z VA K A U TO R S K É S P O LU P R Á C I
N A M O N O T E M AT I C K Ý C H B L O C Í C H
DALŠÍCH ČÍSEL
Prostřednictvím monotematických bloků se Iluminace snaží podpořit koncentrovanější diskusi uvnitř oboru, vytvořit operativní prostředek dialogu s jinými obory
a usnadnit zapojení zahraničních přispěvatelů. Témata jsou vybírána tak, aby korespondovala s aktuálním vývojem ilmové historie a teorie ve světě a aby současně
umožňovala otevírat speciické domácí otázky (revidovat problémy dějin českého
ilmu, zabývat se dosud nevyužitými prameny). Zájemcům může redakce poskytnout výběrové bibliograie k jednotlivým tématům. Každé z uvedených čísel bude
mít rezervován dostatek prostoru i pro texty s tématem nijak nesouvisející.
S nabídkami příspěvků (studií, recenzí, glos, rozhovorů) se obracejte na adresu:
lucie.cesalkova@gmail.com nebo szczepan@phil.muni.cz.
V nabídce stručně popište koncepci textu; u původních studií se předpokládá délka
15–35 normostran. Podrobné pokyny pro bibliograické citace lze nalézt na webových stránkách časopisu: www.iluminace.cz, v položce Redakce/kontakty.
3/2015
Screen Industries in East-Central Europe IV
Special English-Language Edition
(deadline 30 June 2015)
he collection of articles has its origin in a conference on ilm and TV industries in the region held in Olomouc in November 2014.
4/2015
Dějiny FAMU
(uzávěrka 31. července 2015)
Hostující editoři: Martin Franc – Andrea Slováková
Abstrakty příspěvků o rozsahu do 200 slov zasílejte do 30. 4. 2015 na adresu francmartin@
seznam.cz a andrea.slovakova@amu.cz. Uzávěrka pro rukopisy je stanovena na 31. července
2015.
Filmová a televizní fakulta Akademie múzických umění v Praze oslaví v roce 2016 sedmdesát
let svého fungování. Československo se v době jejího založení stalo pátou zemí na světě, kde
vzniklo podobné zařízení pro vysokoškolské vzdělávání ilmových (a v budoucnu i televizních) pracovníků.
Formující osobností prvních desetiletí existence FAMU se stal bezpochyby kontroverzní ilmový kritik a teoretik A. M. Brousil. V průběhu let se FAMU vyvinula i přes všechny peripetie spojené s tragickým obdobím 50. let v celosvětově respektovanou instituci, kde své vzdělání získalo mnoho tuzemských, ale i zahraničních špičkových tvůrců (např. Emir Kusturica,
Agnieszka Hollandová). Na FAMU se také formovala slavná česká ilmová vlna šedesátých let
20. století. I tuto školu však, stejně jako jiná vysokoškolská a akademická pracoviště, tvrdě poznamenaly dopady tzv. normalizace na počátku sedmdesátých let, kdy FAMU muselo opustit
mnoho klíčových osobností z řad pedagogů i studentů. V tomto období dominovali na škole
vyučující blízcí dogmatickému křídlu komunistické strany a její kulturní politiky, což se samozřejmě nemohlo nepodepsat na celkové atmosféře fakulty. K určitým změnám k lepšímu
došlo až s personálními změnami v druhé polovině sedmdesátých let. V této době se z FAMU
stává do určité míry jeden z ostrůvků svobody, i když samozřejmě docházelo stále k zásahům
ideologických dohlížitelů. Znovu se oživily kontakty i se západní kinematograií, pod hlavičkou Socialistického svazu mládeže došlo k obnovení studentských kritických aktivit v podobě vydávání různých časopisů apod. Formovala se zde další generace studentů, která své přesvědčení projevila především v listopadu 1989, kdy studenti FAMU i její nedávní absolventi
patřili k nejpřednějším aktivistům. Studenty přitom v mnohých krocích podpořilo i tehdejší
vedení FAMU v čele s rektorem Iljou Bojanovským.
Od roku 1990 se škola otevřela řadě významných postav české kinematograie i televizní tvorby, které zde začaly přednášet. Ani FAMU se však nevyhnul určitý porevoluční chaos spojený
s rozpadem tradičních hierarchických struktur, na něž plynule nenavazovalo budování struktur nových. Navíc se musela, podobně jako ostatní vysoké školy, vyrovnat s poklesem přílivu
inančních prostředků do oblasti školství a kultury v období bezprostřední transformace československé ekonomiky. Situace se však postupně přes veškeré potíže stabilizovala, mimo jiné
i díky rozsáhlému zapojení do mezinárodní spolupráce. FAMU v podmínkách České republiky přišla o svou prakticky monopolní pozici v oblasti ilmové a audiovizuální výchovy, udržuje privilegované postavení. Na počátku 21. století prošla FAMU další vlnou transformace
spojené s generační obměnou pedagogů i s novou organizací výuky. Inovace a snahy o vylepšování systému výuky ovšem probíhají až do současnosti jako kontinuální proces pomáhající
udržovat kreativní atmosféru na pracovišti.
Přes nesporný význam, který AMU v systému českého vysokého školství patří, byl jejím dějinám věnován dosud nedostatečný badatelský zájem. Nakladatelství Akademie múzických
umění v Praze již druhým rokem pracuje na projektu Dějiny AMU, jehož hlavním výstupem
bude historická monograie jako zásadní syntetické dílo, které ukáže školu jako jeden celek,
zároveň ovšem relektuje speciika jednotlivých fakult (divadelní DAMU, ilmové a televizní
FAMU a hudební a taneční HAMU). Výzkum se zaměřuje na pozici AMU v dobovém kontextu kulturní a vysokoškolské politiky, relektována je i mezinárodní spolupráce v rámci
smluvních vztahů se zahraničními partnerskými školami. Oddíly věnované jednotlivým fakultám v připravované publikaci se zaměřují na vývoj jejich institucionální a personální
struktury, na problematiku vlivu jednotlivých vůdčích osobností na fakultách v různých obdobích, ale také na načrtnutí atmosféry pracoviště. Studie v časopise Iluminace by se měly stát
jedním z důležitých podkladů pro práci.
Příspěvky čísla se mají zabývat jednotlivými otázkami z dějin FAMU od jejích počátků až po
relativně nedávnou minulost. Jako možné tématické okruhy se nabízejí:
• Diskuse o vzdělávání ilmařů v první polovině 20. století v Československu.
• Vznik FAMU v dobovém společenském kontextu
• Proměny struktury FAMU a počátky různých vedlejších zařízení FAMU (Studio FAMU
apod.)
• Vývoj přijímacího řízení, proměny průběhu studia a závěrečných prací na FAMU
• Politické a ideologické vlivy na FAMU v letech 1946–1989.
• Klíčové osobnosti FAMU
• Formování ilmařských generací v rámci FAMU
• Cizinci na FAMU a mezinárodní spolupráce.
• Studentský život na FAMU, podíl FAMU na vystoupeních studentů v letech 1968–1969
a 1989.
• Průběh normalizačních čistek na FAMU
• Dějiny Mezinárodní přehlídky studentských ilmů v Karlových Varech
• Studentská umělecká a odborná činnost na FAMU.
• FAMU v podmínkách transformace v letech 1990–1996.
• Proměny postoje veřejnosti k FAMU a její mediální relexe.
Vybraná literatura:
Bernard, Jan, Filmy FAMU. Pracovní verze, Praha, Filmový ústav, 1982.
Dokumentační sešity historie FAMU 2008–2010. Benešov, Archiv výzkumu Muzea umění
a designu, 200 –2010.
Fabel, Karel – Kirschner, Zdeněk (edd.), 50. výročí založení Akademie múzických umění
v Praze. 1946–1996 (50th anniversary of the foundation of the Academy of Performing Arts
in Prague). Praha, AMU, 1996.
Klauzury Filmové a televizní fakulty AMU 2012. Praha, AMU, 2013.
Knapík, Jiří, Únor a kultura (Sovětizace české kultury 1948–1950). Praha, Libri, 2004.
Knapík, Jiří, V zajetí moci (Kulturní politika, její systém a aktéři 1948–1956). Praha, Libri,
2006.
Škola múz. 40. let založení Akademie múzických umění v Praze. Praha, AMU, 1989.
Umelecká tvorba ako objekt interdisciplinárného výskumu, Zborník príspevkov z konferencie.
Bratislava, Slovenské pedagogické nakladateľstvo, 1986.
Vojtěchovský, Miroslav, Smysl a metodologie vysokoškolské umělecké výchovy, in: Marie
Kratochvílová (ed.), Acta Academica ’93, bulletin pro teoretickou a vědeckou činnost AMU,
Praha 1996, p. 100–108.
3/2016
Screen Industries in East-Central Europe V
Special English-Language Edition
(deadline 30 April 2016)
he collection of articles has its origin in a conference on ilm and TV industries in the region held in Bratislava in November 2015.
4/2016
Současné české seriály
(uzávěrka 31. července 2016)
Původní seriálová produkce v posledních čtyřech letech hýbe domácí televizní scénou.
Zvláště po nástupu generálního ředitele ČT Petra Dvořáka, který si její oživení vytyčil jako jeden z klíčových bodů svého programu, se stala ohniskem konkurenčního boje mezi soukromými stanicemi a televizí veřejné služby. V řadě případů sklízí nové vedení ČT nadšenou
chválu komentátorů, dlouhodobě frustrovaných pověstnou zakonzervovaností Kavčích hor –
dvojblok detektivky Případy 1. oddělení a průkopnického sitcomu Čtvrtá hvězda, vysílaných od počátku roku 2014, si dokonce vysloužil žurnalistické označení „velká pondělní televizní revoluce“.
První kanál České televize soutěží se soukromými konkurenty jejich vlastními zbraněmi: do
čtyř, nebo dokonce pěti primetimů za týden, tedy stejně jako Nova a Prima, umisťuje původní seriály a série, přičemž většina z nich představuje veřejnoprávní verze tradičních seriálových žánrů (krimi, sitcom, soap opera). Na ČT 1 se stabilizují programová seriálová okna:
pondělní kriminalistické (Případy 1. oddělení, Vraždy v kruhu), páteční rodinné
(Vyprávěj, První republika, Neviditelní) atd. Na vývoji nových veřejnoprávních seriálů
se podílejí lidé, kteří za Dvořákem přišli z Novy (Jan Maxa, Radek Bajgar, Tomáš Feřtek, Jan
Prušinovský ad.) a navázali na předchozí úspěšnou éru „nováckých“ seriálů (Kriminálka
Anděl, Comeback, Okresní přebor).
Vztahy mezi soukromými a veřejnými zájmy dále komplikuje dynamicky rostoucí sektor nezávislých televizních producentů, kteří velkou část nových seriálů pro ČT vyrábějí, ať už formou zakázky, nebo koprodukce (k nejvýznamnějším hráčům patří irmy Dramedy, Logline,
Bionaut, Ofside Men a FilmBrigade). Někteří tito producenti experimentují se skupinovým
psaním, charakteristickým pro dlouhohrající seriály typu Ulice, a ČT se nebrání ani adaptování osvědčených zahraničních vzorů (Kancl, Doktor Martin), metodě jinak typické pro
soukromé televize.
Přibližně ve stejné době, kdy Dvořák ohlásil svůj program postavený na oživení původní dramatické tvorby, spustila svou seriálovou, respektive sériovou produkci místní pobočka nadnárodní korporace HBO Europe (Terapie, Hořící keř, Až po uši). Nejnovějším trendem
jsou seriály internetové, z nichž největší pozornosti se těší Kancelář Blaník z produkce
Stream.cz. Není divu, že růst prestiže seriálové tvorby do televize přivedl — po vzoru angloamerické quality television — renomované ilmové tvůrce, a to nejen mainstreamového typu
(Jan Hřebejk, Petr Jarchovský), ale i vyloženě artového zaměření (Marek Najbrt, Robert
Sedláček, Bohdan Sláma, Petr Zelenka, Radim Špaček). Otázkou do budoucna zůstává, jak seriálová zkušenost ovlivní jejich tvorbu pro kina.
Tyto a další související trendy badatelům otevírají neobyčejně zajímavé pole pro výzkum proměn domácí seriálové produkce, její návaznosti na ilm, na českou seriálovou tradici a na mezinárodní vývoj. Jestliže se česká mediální studia dosud věnovala primárně recepci seriálů,
připravované číslo Iluminace se zaměří na jejich produkci a programování. Naše redakce uvítá příspěvky pohlížející na seriály z níže uvedených perspektiv, ale bude otevřená i jiným tématům:
• Veřejnoprávně-institucionální: rozhodování o výběru námětu, tvůrců a koproducenta,
schvalování, producentské a dramaturgické vedení, hodnotové rámce klíčových aktérů.
• Byznysově-producentské: strategie nezávislých producentů pracujících na zakázkách a koprodukcích s ČT, místo seriálové tvorby v jejich portfoliu, stabilní týmové skupiny a osobní vazby s tvůrci.
• Esteticko-tvůrčí: tvůrčí metody ve vývoji a realizaci, autorské a skupinové psaní, proměny
technik natáčení, výsledný seriál jako index produkčního procesu.
• Programově-tržní: strategie programového okna, návaznosti na předchozí produkty, konkurenční vymezování vůči produktům soukromých televizí, vliv sledovanosti na vnitřní
hodnocení a další osudy seriálu.
2/2017
Současný český audiovizuální průmysl
(uzávěrka 28. února 2017)
ILUMINACE
je recenzovaný časopis pro vědeckou relexi kinematograie a příbuzných problémů. Byla založena v roce 1989 jako půlletník. Od svého pátého ročníku přešla na čtvrtletní periodicitu
a při té příležitosti se rozšířil její rozsah i formát. Od roku 2004 je v každém čísle vyhrazen
prostor pro monotematický blok textů. Od roku 2005 jsou některé monotematické bloky připravovány ve spolupráci s hostujícími editory. Iluminace přináší především původní teoretické a historické studie o ilmu a dalších audiovizuálních médiích. Každé číslo obsahuje rovněž
překlady zahraničních textů, jež přibližují současné badatelské trendy nebo splácejí překladatelské dluhy z minulosti. Velký prostor je v Iluminaci věnován kritickým edicím primárních
písemným pramenů k dějinám kinematograie, stejně jako rozhovorům s významnými tvůrci a badateli. Zvláštní rubriky poskytují prostor k prezentaci probíhajících výzkumných projektů a nově zpracovaných archivních fondů. Jako každý akademický časopis i Iluminace obsahuje rubriku vyhrazenou recenzím domácí a zahraniční odborné literatury, zprávám
z konferencí a dalším aktualitám z dění v oboru ilmových a mediálních studií.
P O K Y N Y P R O A U TO R Y:
Nabízení a formát rukopisů
Redakce přijímá rukopisy v elektronické podobě v editoru Word, a to e-mailem na adrese
szczepan@phil.muni.cz nebo lucie.cesalkova@gmail.com. Doporučuje se nejprve zaslat stručný popis koncepce textu. U původních studií se předpokládá délka 15–35 normostran, u rozhovorů 10–30 normostran, u ostatních 4–15; v odůvodněných případech a po domluvě s redakcí je možné tyto limity překročit. Všechny nabízené příspěvky musí být v deinitivní verzi.
Rukopisy studií je třeba doplnit ilmograickým soupisem (odkazuje-li text na ilmové tituly
— dle zavedené praxe Iluminace), abstraktem v angličtině nebo češtině o rozsahu 0,5–1 normostrana, anglickým překladem názvu, biograickou notickou v délce 3–5 řádků, volitelně
i kontaktní adresou. Obrázky se přijímají ve formátu JPG (s popisky a údaji o zdroji), grafy
v programu Excel. Autor je povinen dodržovat citační normu časopisu (viz „Pokyny pro bibliograické citace“).
Pravidla a průběh recenzního řízení
Recenzní řízení typu „peer-review“ se vztahuje na odborné studie, určené pro rubriku „Články“, a probíhá pod dozorem redakční rady (resp. „redakčního okruhu“), jejíž aktuální složení
je uvedeno v každém čísle časopisu. Šéfredaktor má právo vyžádat si od autora ještě před započetím recenzního řízení jazykové i věcné úpravy nabízených textů nebo je do recenzního
řízení vůbec nepostoupit, pokud nesplňují základní kritéria původní vědecké práce. Toto rozhodnutí musí autorovi náležitě zdůvodnit. Každou předběžně přijatou studii redakce předloží k posouzení dvěma recenzentům. Recenzenti budou vybíráni podle kritéria odborné kvaliikace v otázkách, jimiž se hodnocený text zabývá, a po vyloučení osob, které jsou v blízkém
pracovním nebo osobním vztahu s autorem. Autoři a posuzovatelé zůstávají pro sebe navzájem anonymní. Posuzovatelé vyplní formulář, v němž uvedou, zda text navrhují přijmout,
přepracovat, nebo zamítnout. Své stanovisko zdůvodní v přiloženém posudku. Pokud doporučují zamítnutí nebo přepracování, uvedou do posudku hlavní důvody, respektive podněty
k úpravám. V případě požadavku na přepracování nebo při protichůdných hodnoceních
může redakce zadat třetí posudek. Na základě posudků šéfredaktor přijme konečné rozhodnutí o přijetí či zamítnutí příspěvku a toto rozhodnutí sdělí v nejkratším možném termínu autorovi. Pokud autor s rozhodnutím šéfredaktora nesouhlasí, může své stanovisko vyjádřit
v dopise, který redakce předá k posouzení a dalšímu rozhodnutí členům redakčního okruhu.
Výsledky recenzního řízení budou archivovány způsobem, který umožní zpětné ověření, zda
se v něm postupovalo podle výše uvedených pravidel a zda hlavním kritériem posuzování
byla vědecká úroveň textu.
Další ustanovení
U nabízených rukopisů se předpokládá, že autor daný text dosud nikde jinde nepublikoval
a že jej v průběhu recenzního řízení ani nebude nabízet jiným časopisům. Pokud byla publikována jakákoli část nabízeného textu, autor je povinen tuto skutečnost sdělit redakci a uvést
v rukopise. Nevyžádané příspěvky se nevracejí. Pokud si autor nepřeje, aby jeho text byl zveřejněn na internetových stránkách časopisu (www.iluminace.cz), je třeba sdělit nesouhlas písemně redakci.
Pokyny k formální úpravě článků jsou ke stažení na téže internetové adrese, pod sekcí „Autoři článků“.
Sbírka orální historie
v Národním filmovém archivu
NFA pečuje o nejrůznější typy dokumentů se vztahem k historii českého ilmovnictví včetně
zvukových a zvukově-obrazových nahrávek.
Vlastníte-li takové typy materiálů (rozhovory, záznamy událostí či jiné druhy audiozáznamů,
eventuálně audiovizuálních záznamů rozhovorů, vztahující se k tématu české kinematograie,
a to z jakéhokoliv období), a máte zájem o jejich bezpečné uchování, nabízíme vám bezplatné
uložení v depozitářích NFA.
NFA splňuje všechny podmínky, které zaručují nejvyšší možnou kvalitu archivace.
Jakékoliv obohacení naší sbírky z vašich zdrojů je cenným příspěvkem k rozšíření povědomí
o minulosti českého ilmu a současně i naší kulturní historie.
Kontakt: kurátorka sbírky Marie Barešová
Marie.Baresova@nfa.cz
226 211 860 / linka 20
Toto číslo Iluminace vychází s inanční podporou CEFS
ILUMINACE
Časopis pro teorii, historii
a estetiku filmu
The Journal of Film Theory, History,
and Aesthetics
1
/ 2015
www.iluminace.cz
Redakce / Editorial Staf:
Jan Hanzlík, Ivan Klimeš, Petr Szczepanik
Šéfredaktorka / Editor-in-Chief:
Lucie Česálková
Redakční rada / Editorial Board:
Anna Batistová, Petr Bednařík, Petr Bilík, Jindřiška
Bláhová, Karel Čada, Jana Dudková, Nataša
Ďurovičová, Tereza Cz Dvořáková, Petra Hanáková,
Radomír D. Kokeš, Tomáš Lachman, Alice Lovejoy,
Jakub Macek, Petr Mareš, Richard Nowell, Francesco
Pitassio, Pavel Skopal, Ondřej Sládek, Andrea
Slováková, Kateřina Svatoňová
Vydává / Published by:
Národní ilmový archiv, www.nfa.cz
Adresa redakce / Address:
Národní ilmový archiv, Oddělení výzkumu
Bartolomějská 11, 110 01 Praha 1
Iluminace je recenzovaný vědecký časopis. Redakce
přijímá rukopisy na e-mailové adrese lucie.cesalkova@
nfa.cz. / Iluminace is a peer-reviewed research journal.
Submissions should be sent to lucie.cesalkova@nfa.cz.
Iluminace je tiskovým orgánem Národního ilmového
archivu a České společnosti pro ilmová studia. /
Iluminace is a publishing venue of the National Fim
Archive and the Czech Society for Film Studies.
Korektury / Proofreading:
Soňa Weigertová, Lucie Česálková
Graická úprava a sazba / Graphic design:
studio@vemola.cz.
Manipulace s obálkou / Cover manipulation:
Petr Babák (Laboratoř)
Tisk / Print: Helma Beta, spol. s r. o.
Iluminace vychází 4× ročně. /
Iluminace is published quarterly.
Rukopis byl odevzdán do výroby v březnu 2015. /
he manuscript was submitted in March 2015.
Cena a předplatné:
Cena jednoho čísla je 120,– Kč.
Cena pro studenty je 84,– Kč.
Roční předplatné pro Českou republiku
vč. poštovného:
Pro instituce a podnikatelské subjekty: 640,– Kč.
Pro fyzické osoby – nepodnikatele: 540,– Kč.
Pro velkorysé: 5000,– Kč (jako bonus může předplatitel
získat sadu katalogu Český hraný ilm I–VI 1898–1993
v hodnotě 4.660,– Kč).
Předplatné zajišťuje Národní ilmový archiv,
produkční oddělení – odbyt publikací, Bartolomějská 11,
110 01 Praha 1; e-mail: helena.cernohorska@nfa.cz,
telefon: +420 226 211 865.
Prices and Subscription rates:
Each copy: € 11 (Europe) or US$ 15.
Annual subscription for Europe:
Institutional: € 89
Private: € 59
Annual subscription for other countries:
Institutional: US$ 109
Private: US$ 72
Prices include postage. Sales and orders are managed
by Národní ilmový archiv, produkční oddělení –
odbyt publikací, Bartolomějská 11, 110 01 Praha 1;
e-mail: helena.cernohorska@nfa.cz,
tel.: +420 226 211 865.
Iluminace je k dispozici také v elektronické podobě
v licencovaných databázích Scopus, ProQuest a Ebsco.
/ Iluminace is available electronically through Scopus,
ProQuest and Ebsco.
MK ČR E 55255; MIČ 47285, ISSN 0862-397X
© Národní ilmový archiv