Author: Esme Betamax

The Story Of Film: Book Review

Filmmaker Mark Cousins, following his 2019 odyssey Women Make Film, has returned to his 2004 book The Story of Film for a 2020 update. Using innovation as his core theme, the author performs a kind of cultural cartography, mapping cinema’s tributaries back to the source.

Film history spans over a century, so in order to fit it all in, the material must be finely honed. He gets his point across in very few words, and rarely idles on his whistle stop tour. So it’s almost comical when he fires off an abundance of examples — sometimes 11 in one sentence. But that just adds to the entertainment factor.

For someone who is reluctant to be called a writer, he has written quite a few books: Scene by Scene (2002); The Story of Film (2004); Widescreen: Watching Real People Elsewhere (2008); The Story of Looking (2017). But as a director he is far more prolific. His video essays can be measured in days, with the best part of one day (900 minutes/15 hours) based on this book: The Story of Film: An Odyssey

You wouldn’t need to be a film expert to recall the big success stories in cinema: The award winning titles and the (invariably male) influential directors — the ones that end up with an -ian or an -esque after their names. But the pivotal moments in film, the true innovations, are not necessarily ones you could mention off the top of your head. That’s the object of Cousins’ book.

He gives away the plot of many films, but not to ruinous effect. In fact the way he describes so many of the films makes me want to put down the book and watch them right away. With this infectious passion for cinema, he comes across as a true enthusiast, without the trappings of toxic fandom that are so ubiquitous today. Though if (like me) you have managed so far to avoid watching Un Chien Andalou, maybe skip page 112.

‘This skeletal outline describes the elemental nature of Sunrise but does not capture its poetic force’ (p. 103)

This quote is an admission of the spoilery nature of such a book, but it also exemplifies his interest in the art of the medium. In fact his initial inspiration was E.H. Gombrich’s The Story of Art. More than a timeline of technological advances, Cousins delves into the innovations that filmmakers have made in terms of artistic, musical, psychological, and communicative aspects or, for example, in circumventing the strict rules set by totalitarian regimes. He explores the fact that Cinema has real world political implications .

Film is not created in a vacuum. Politics, literature, social movements, culture, technology and more apply pressure, which is released in a burst of inspiration (the jump cut; the Pan-Cinor lens), or an entire movement (New Wave).

The author speaks with authority, but doesn’t pretend to offer an unbiased view. His politics are visible (trans rights: good, nationalism: bad), and as though Cousins feels that this wasn’t clear enough in 2004, he makes it explicit in the new chapter Streaming: (2004-Now) “[A] cinema without borders approach is quietly radical.” (p.492)

Knowing this, it therefore comes as a surprise that he has retained the word ‘prostitute’ (a word that appears no less than 16 times), rather than replacing it with ‘sex worker’. One of the benefits of issuing new editions is the opportunity to update language to fit the present day. If it’s stopping me in my tracks right now for some psychic fnr.exe action, then it’s likely it won’t age well.

Overall, the book is a delight, and one that I will return to for its sheer breadth of information. Cousins emphasises that this book is not definitive, and readily points to other authors for further study. He also respects you as a reader, which is not always the case in books about film.

“Film is one of the most accessible artforms so even its most obscure productions can be understood by an intelligent non-specialist, which I assume you are” (p.7)

The Story of Film is thorough and illuminating. The evolution of film seen from Cousins’ vantage point looks tidal. The high tides of innovation occur at different times around the world, but are endlessly cyclical.

The Story of Film (2020) is published by Pavilion Books

11th December 2020
GSFF Review: How To Disappear

How to Disappear, by Robin Klengel, Leonhard Müllner & Michael Stumpf, tries to push the boundaries of the first-person shooter video game Battlefield.

Whilst calmly musing on the history of desertion in war, the players learn that it is impossible to desert the battlefield. If the player persists in their desertion attempts, they receive two warnings: One visible and one audible, followed by execution.

In Battlefield there is simply nothing beyond the perimeter of the conflict zone. A little like Truman discovering the edge of his world.

Battlefield, they say, is ‘A game that makes war consumable’. The filmmakers suggest that war cannot be ‘played’, because games are voluntary and war is not. But we say that wars are ‘waged’ and I’d go so far as to say that wars are consumable, just not by the soldiers.

War games are a type of propaganda. They affirm that you, with your poor posture and dangerously low levels of vitamin D, You have what it takes. Alarmingly, with drone warfare, this may well be true.

George W Bush was a fan of either/or statements: You’re either with us or against us, and we’ve gone a long way down that road. The binary nature of the game may be a comfort to some. Perimeter: On; Friendly Fire: Off. And it’s interesting to note that the only indestructible object within the game is the flag. Flags are sacrosanct, which tells us a lot about the game’s target audience, and the lines that game developers choose not to cross.

Müllner and co. are not the first people to play video games in unintended ways. Take for example Tim drowning Lara Croft after a run-in with his ex

More recently Blindboy has been using Red Dead Redemption as a venue for songwriting

This film wants to explore how to play a new game within the constraints of the game’s structure. Games like GTA allow for a certain amount of goofing around, but is it more fun to try this when the game doesn’t encourage it?

This kind of experiment is art, but what kind of art? It feels a lot like Dadaism:

Developed in response to the horrors of WW1 the dada movement rejected reason, rationality, and order of the emerging capitalist society, instead favoring chaos, nonsense, and anti-bourgeois sentiment. (Read more…)

The constraints of the game are thoroughly explored and only after this can the players learn how to circumvent them. In this way it is similar to the Ouxpo groups. Oujeupo perhaps?

In their earlier film, Operation Jane Walk (also at GSFF as part of their Urban Palimpsests programme) the filmmakers play with the idea of using videogame landscapes for guided tours. This short can be viewed here, and it’s worth pairing with this early colour film which is also a tour of New York.

How To Disappear is a video essay, a game within a game, and a piece of performance art. Like Dadaism, it is an absurd response to the absurdity of war. And like Ouxpo, one must know the rules in order to break them.

How to Disappear was shown at Glasgow Short Film Festival 2020

Glasgow Short Film Festival, the largest competitive short film festival in Scotland, champions new film talent by providing an annual showcase and meeting point for new and established Scottish and international filmmakers, industry delegates and the local audience. Our programme celebrates diverse forms of cinematic expression, whether fiction, documentary, animation or artists’ moving image, and foregrounds disruptive, ground-breaking work that transgresses the boundaries of conventional narrative film.

25th October 2020
The Campaign Of Miner Bo: Review

The Campaign of Miner Bo

Esme Betamax | @betamaxer

In May of 2016, Copley was invited to join a roundtable discussion with Hillary Clinton, who was campaigning in West Virginia before the state’s presidential primary. Copley, his voice breaking, showed Clinton a picture of his three children and challenged her assertion that she was a friend to coal miners. Copley’s raw emotion broke through the usual campaign chatter, and throughout the campaign, he was a regular on cable news.

Copley tried to take advantage of his surprise political celebrity by running for the Republican nomination for U.S. Senate in 2018. But without money, experience, or a traditional campaign infrastructure, he quickly discovered that being a politician is harder than it looks.

Between the breakneck pace of the news cycle and the magnitude of recent events, The Campaign of Miner Bo could easily be dismissed as old news. But in pursuing this story Director Todd Drezner has struck on something that illustrates what has happened in the US political system, somewhat demystifying it for non-US audiences.

And the system is baffling: Democracy distorted. A self-proclaimed David to the incumbent Goliath, his confidence takes a pummeling when he doesn’t make a dent. Perhaps the most galling thing for Bo is realising that he is less popular than Don Blankenship. A shifty character, responsible for the deaths of 29 coal miners, fresh out of prison. Bo has to consider, is fame more important than integrity? That’s a bitter pill to swallow.

Bo Copley has unwavering faith in historical figures—Jesus and the Founding Fathers . He talks about Jesus in that casual manner that suggests they just bumped into each other at the store. Though it will always give me pause when anyone claims “God told me to do it”, he’s no megalomaniac. (But is that just a question of money?)

At first appalled at Clinton’s coal mining stance, he becomes receptive to her once he discovers the full story. He begins to understand the extent to which media framing creates a new narrative by removing context. Political division is apparent in every conversation he has. But he is uncomfortable responding to the vitriol people have when Hillary Clinton is mentioned: Nervously laughing along with their threats of violence, like the new boy at school.

Bo is conservative to the bone, so Clinton would never go so far as to convert him. But the Republican Party he belongs in is not Trump’s either. He’s likeable. An affectionate family man. A bad singer. He is reluctant to emulate career politicians—all that schmoozing and marketing. He wants to succeed as a person, not a brand. This documentary does not explain Trump’s success, but it goes some way to revealing the failures of the Democrats: Ordinary people, especially those in rural areas, feel abandoned.

West Virginia is one example of an all-or-nothing economy that exists in America. Coal production is everything there, but like Motor City Detroit before it, ordinary people suffer when businesses go bust. They are victims of capitalism, convinced that capitalism will save them.

The Campaign of Miner Bo is a critique of contemporary news media, which invents the news more often than reporting it. He mistakes a short burst of celebrity for something more, yet his passion makes him easy to root for. But ultimately he’s a poor man playing a rich man’s game.

11th October 2020
Ekstase: GSFF Review

Ekstase: A montage of scenes from European silent films exploring the stereotype of women on the verge of insanity. The film displays the women as captives in a continuous cycle of symptoms, diagnosis and treatment.

The rhythm of this 12 minute film is mesmerising. These textbook cases of ‘hysteria’ have the women acting out each stage to excess. Though it’s important to know that the textbook is from the late 1800s and is mostly horseshit.

Director Marion Kellman (Endre Tót – I’m glad if I’m happy, 2017) was inspired by Professor Jean-Martin Charcot’s experiments on hysteria at the Salpêtrière. A powerful yet controversial figure at the time, though you may be more familiar with his associates Tourette and Freud.

Charcot was a doctor who did as much for mental health as discredited ex-physician Andrew Wakefield did for vaccination. By this I mean that even though their arguments have been thoroughly debunked, their effects are long-lasting and damaging to society.

Charcot held that hysteria had four distinct stages, always in the same order, all very expressive and verging on the erotic. Performances were staged for enraptured audiences. This was an absolute gift to early filmmakers.

Visually dramatic in exactly the right way for silent films, we witness women swooning and contorting themselves in the presence of level-headed medical men. Such damaging misogynistic propaganda was produced to satisfy the male gaze.

However, the films are not simply artefacts of the silent era. These tropes continue to the present day, sometimes subtly, sometimes just as outlandish. Women: mysterious and unpredictable, wild yet fragile, must be tamed or restrained by rational men.

Examples include, but are in no way limited to: Metropolis; A Streetcar Named Desire; Sunset Boulevard; the Indiana Jones franchise; Fatal Attraction; anything by Darren Aronofsky; anything by Lars Von Trier…

In Lieu of a trailer for Ekstase, here is Every Instance of Kate Capshaw Screaming in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Ekstase is fun but with a bitter aftertaste. Marion Kellman’s video essay is a lesson in propaganda from a century ago, yet some things don’t change. In 2020 big business, government, and media corporations all know: You can take any falsehood and make it true through repetition.

Ekstase was Screened at Glasgow Short Film Festival 2020

30th September 2020
Sheffield Doc Fest Features (Part 2)

Sheffield Doc Fest Features (Part 2): Southern Journey (Revisited) and Elder’s Corner. Other features can be found at Sheffield Doc Fest Features (Part 1)

Winding up the coverage of Sheffield Doc Fest’s Rhyme & Rhythm strand, I have selected two films that are about legacy and voyages of discovery. Elder’s Corner, and Southern Journey (Revisited).

Elder’s Corner

Elder’s Corner is one man’s quest to understand his roots via a musical family tree. Its various branches include Juju, Afrobeat, and High Life, which musician and filmmaker Siji Awoyinka discovered while living in New York.

Awoyinka travels to Nigeria in order to track down the musicians, with a box of records as his starting point. There is no better way to explore Nigeria’s recent history than through the music, because it reflects the political and societal changes so intimately. War and political changes caused many of the musicians to be displaced or dispossessed.

There is a line of great trauma that runs through Elder’s Corner. The film was many years in the making, and Awoyinka catches many of the musicians just in time. There is a long list of participants who passed away during the making of the film, including E.C. Arinze, Mary Afi Usuah, and Fatai Rolling Dollar.

A lot of the musicians had never revisited their traumatic experiences in public, and Awoyinka does not enter into this lightly. But in his quest to re-record the music he is able to bring joy to them as well as exploring their pain. The new recording sessions take place in Lagos at Decca Studios, where they originally recorded in the 1960s, using much of the original equipment with all of its idiosyncrasies. It is in this setting that the musicians become animated and begin to open up about their experiences.

Siji Awoyinka sets out on a deeply personal journey. In doing so, he discovers Nigeria’s oral tradition, of which he is a product. With Elder’s Corner he creates a valuable document of this turbulent 20th Century history, and context for his music today.

Southern Journey (Revisited)

Southern Journey (Revisited) is a contemporary redux of folklorist and ethnomusicologist Alan Lomax’s famous field recording trip Southern Journey. The Alan Lomax recordings have long been a source of fascination for filmmakers Rob Curry and Tim Plester, and this is their second film inspired by the archive.

Curry and Plester are opportunistic. An important quality in a documentary filmmaker. They subscribe to Werner Herzog’s philosophy which is more to do with observation, curation, and no small amount of plundering, than with careful planning and storyboarding. It’s this flexibility that explains the order in which they have made their films.

Southern Journey (Revisited) looks like the film they set out to make in 2017, when they ended up making The Ballad of Shirley Collins. They began with the Lomax archives, but on meeting Collins discovered a different story — one of a singer losing her voice to heartbreak. It was a shrewd decision to run with that story rather than pressing for this one. Curry and Plester were right to put a pin in their original ideas, and allow Collins’s story to take its own direction.

It is through The Ballad of Shirley Collins that the pair find themselves able to fully realise the story of the Southern Journey. Whilst touring the 2017 documentary, they travel (not by accident) along the route taken by Collins and Lomax in 1959. Here they encounter people and places recorded on the Lomax trip. They use Shirley Collins’s memoir America Over the Water as their guidebook.

In much the same way as Lomax and Collins, the pair are received with both warmth and caution. Some are eager to share their views, and others are visibly guarded — wary of being judged. In taking a slice of southern US culture, Curry and Plester strive to be responsible filmmakers. They are aware that it is too easy for editing to morph into censorship, and they are mindful to avoid that.

They present a view of the USA that addresses stereotypes directly. It is refreshing to hear from communities that are often overlooked when it comes to ‘culture’ in America. Southern Journey (Revisited) is scrappy and serendipitous, as much a product of luck as of judgement, which Rob Curry and Tim Plester would be the first to admit.

Sheffield Doc/Fest, short for Sheffield International Documentary Festival, is an international documentary festival and Marketplace held annually in Sheffield, England.

Read more Sheffield Doc Fest reviews on BRWC

27th August 2020