Screening Timetable for Autumn Term 2016

Posted on August 11, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

We now have dates for our Melodrama Screening and Discussion Sessions next Term. Meetings will take place on even Mondays, from 5-7pm, in Jarman 7.

All are welcome to join us on: the 3rd, 17th and 31st of October, the 14th and 28th of November and the 12th of December 2016.

Following the success of the Gothic Feminism conference we will be screening films and reading novels relating to the Gothic. We start with Bluebeard (Edgar G. Ulmer, 1944, 72 mins) in the first session, also taking this opportunity to discuss the remainder of the term as well as other plans.

Gothic Feminism Conference Closing Remarks

Posted on June 11, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

Frances Kamm has very kindly provided the following Final Remarks relating to the fabulous recent Gothic Feminism Conference:

A huge thank you to everyone who presented and participated at the Gothic Feminism conference on the 26^th-27^th May 2016. We have had a great two days discussing and debating the diversity of topics raised by considering the Gothic heroine on film. We are particularly pleased with the way the papers related to each other within their respective panels, and are grateful to our speakers and audience members for engaging in lively conversations in every session.

There are several points arising out of the conference which should be noted as a record of the event and as a way of inspiring future projects. First, the conference emphasised again the importance of the heroine protagonist to the Gothic mode and how this form of storytelling intersects with wider historical and social discourses, particularly in relation to feminism. This theme was illuminated by the fascinating keynote delivered by Catherine Spooner, which reflected upon the representation and significance of the white dress; a central emblem present in several Gothic texts, including the recent Crimson Peak (2015). Catherine’s talk skilfully encapsulated the underlying tone and themes of the other papers: taken together, the papers acknowledged the long and diverse traditions of the Gothic and the Gothic heroine, and reflected upon the renewed possibilities of furthering such traditions on the cinema screen. The papers all, in one form or another, raised the central questions of: why does the Gothic heroine continue to be such an important and distinctive component to these stories? And how has cinema translated these Gothic traits for the filmic medium?

Opening the conference, Catherine’s paper reflected upon how the Gothic heroine’s white dress does not stay white over the course of the tale and instead becomes marked and stained, with this tainting becoming a trace for the heroine’s narrative exploits. Such physical markings can also be, Catherine argued, read metaphorically within a narrative’s historical contexts. Now the conference has closed we can see how these opening remarks can, in a way, be read as a metatextual commentary on the subsequent papers. The white dress becomes an allegory for the Gothic itself which also does not remain the same: just like the progressive soiling of the white garment, the Gothic has changed or been transformed by external factors, such as differing narrative arcs, political or historical contexts, alternative exhibition practices and the adaptation of unusual genres. The centrality of the Gothic heroine, however, remains the constant. Catherine remarked how the white dress becomes the metaphoric page upon which the heroine’s story is ‘written’. There is an analogy here with the definition of the Gothic widely supported by all the papers at the conference: the Gothic becomes the means through which the heroine’s story is told and the implications of this trend were highlighted in a variety of ways across the presentations.

If Crimson Peak was heralded in several papers as an important contemporary example of the cinematic Gothic, then Rebecca (1940) was widely cited as its starting point. As our first panel ‘Return to Manderley’ aptly demonstrated, discussions of the Gothic heroine in cinema return constantly to Hitchcock’s film and the new Mrs de Winter (or, as Johanna Wagner referred to her, Nameless). There were two major significances arising from the continued reference to the Daphne du Maurier adaptation. First, the film functions as a historical marker which indicates how the Gothic became an important mode of storytelling for cinema but – importantly – to relate such discussion back to this point is not to ignore the wider traditions influencing this form. Indeed, several papers cited how this particular strand of the Gothic originates from the Bluebeard tale and thus this tradition of the Gothic focuses upon the heroine’s relationship to her mysterious and dangerous husband, a reading which can be extended to reflect upon wider societal patriarchal structures. It is interesting that this conference, much like the previous scholarship on the Gothic in film has argued, also observed how such a narrative was adapted and repeated by Hollywood in the period leading up to the USA’s involvement in the Second World War. Maxim’s stately house therefore becomes the metaphoric home for Bluebeard’s translation onto the big screen and into film history.

Second, it is poignant that Rebecca denies its central heroine a name as this conference demonstrated the shifting parameters of identity afforded to the Gothic’s female protagonist. Many factors may impact the representation and reception of the heroine’s identity. For example, as the panel on ‘Mothers’ highlighted, transforming the Gothic heroine from the childlike naivety of Nameless in the 1940s into the role of mother central to the films later in the century (and into the 21^st Century) radically reforms the power dynamics between the heroine and the structures of oppression highlighted by the Bluebeard tale. In this instance, the heroine may not fear her husband but, instead, her motherhood becomes a potential tool of oppression, with the child (or children) embodying the physical danger present in these films.

The heroine’s identity may also be effected by the story’s context and relationship to space. This was a consistent theme which ran through the remaining panels. The interpretation of the Gothic heroine is inextricably linked to the context of the narrative’s setting and time of production, and these factors may vary quite considerably. In fact, the conference demonstrated how the Gothic may be adopted by a broad range of genres, from the western to science-fiction to 21^st Century urban dramas. The Gothic may continue to be relevant to US context but is also present in film texts emerging from Britain, Germany and Australia. The physical dimensions of the archetypal old dark house may alter in these instances but its function remains the same: the Gothic heroine explores these physical spaces and the course of her investigation will expose how such locations can be both repressive and liberating. Interestingly, the conference also highlighted how it is not just the space on-screen which is important: the implicit off-screen space – in the form of alternative sites of exhibition – are also relevant. The conference revealed how the more recent articulations of the Gothic heroine have been adapted for the television drama, comedy series and film festival circuits. The mutability of the Gothic form in film was underlined again by the videographic works which showed how the Gothic narrative may be subsumed into the short film format, or extrapolated for the purposes of a film essay.

The Passages of Gothic work is, in a sense, emblematic of the research which inspired the organisation of this event. As I mentioned in my opening address, Gothic Feminism is the culmination of years of work researching, teaching and studying the trends and tropes of the representation of the Gothic heroine in cinema by Tamar and myself, as well as other researchers in the Film department at the University of Kent. This conference is our first major event to communicate this research with an external audience, and begin a wider conservation about this topic. As Tamar noted at the end of the conference, these thoughts do not constitute concluding remarks so much as indicate the beginnings of new avenues of research and the inspiration for future events. Gothic Feminism is not a one-off event but rather an ongoing project we will continue to explore here on the blog and in the future conferences we are now planning. We hope the delegates who were present last week, and other Gothic scholars, will be able to join us again for events which explore the representation of the Gothic heroine in cinema.

Watch this (Gothic) space…

Text by: Frances Kamm

Image: based on Crimson Peak (2015); logo by Frances Kamm

https://gothicfeminism.com/2016/06/03/conference-closing-remarks/

Those attending this stimulating and fun conference would also like to send huge thanks to Frances and Tamar. Thank you!

You can find pictures Frances posted on the Gothic Feminism blog here: https://gothicfeminism.com/2016/06/09/conference-pictures/

Gothic Feminism Conference: Registration now Open!

Posted on April 14, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

Registration Open:

Gothic Feminism: The Representation of the Gothic Heroine in Cinema

University of Kent

(Registration deadline: 18^th May 2016)

Keynote Speaker: Dr Catherine Spooner (Lancaster University)

We are delighted to announce that registration has now open for Gothic Feminism: a conference on cinema’s Gothic heroines taking place within the School of Arts.

This conference seeks to re-engage with theories of the Gothic and reflect specifically upon the depiction of the Gothic heroine in film. This conference shall engage with questions of representation, interpretation and feminist enquiry in relation to the Gothic heroine throughout film history including present day incarnations. This event shall illuminate the concerns, contradictions and challenges posed by the Gothic heroine on-screen through reference to specific case studies which re-engage with older examples of the Gothic and/or explore contemporary films, reflecting upon the renewed academic and commercial interest in the genre of recent years.

To register, please go to: http://store.kent.ac.uk/browse/extra_info.asp?compid=1&modid=1&deptid=26&catid=158&prodvarid=207&searchresults=1

The conference fee is £20 (waged) and £10 (student/unwaged).

The conference fee includes lunch and tea and coffee breaks on both days.

Further updates can be found here:

https://gothicfeminism.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/GothicFeminism

For any queries please contact: gothicfeminism2016@gmail.com

Conference organisers: Frances Kamm and Tamar Jeffers McDonald, University of Kent

Melodrama Research Group

Centre for Film and Media Research

School of Arts

Summary of Discussion on The Duke of Burgundy

Posted on April 14, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

Many thanks to Frances for providing the below summary of the discussion following our most recent screening:

The post-screening discussion of The Duke of Burgundy focused primarily on the experience of watching this film, which is quite difficult to describe. The film itself is quite unconventional – with no firm narrative as such – and at times this makes for a challenging viewing experience, particularly at the beginning when Cynthia’s treatment of Evelyn appears abusive. Narrative comprehension aside, watching the film is a distinctive experience, with words such as compelling, hypnotic and intense being used to describe our feelings throughout. These affects are emphasised by the intense focus on nature within the film’s imagery and the repetition within the plot (as seen through Evelyn’s and Cynthia’s re-playing of scenarios), with some of these features compared to the work of Stan Brakhage.

Many of these observations were linked to the fact that Burgundy is a sensory experience: it evokes a haptic visuality. This is evident even within the film’s credits, which provide reference for costume, lingerie and perfume. It was noted that the latter is not unprecedented (Audrey Hepburn may have credited her perfumer) but here it seems the emphasis is less on brand potentiality and more on the importance of the film as a sensory engagement with the viewer. This appeal to the senses is evident throughout the film. For example, when the initial ambiguity regarding Evelyn’s and Cynthia’s relationship is resolved, the film focuses on the intimacy and sensual encounters between the couple, as when Evelyn caresses Cynthia’s skin and her silk chemise, passionately whispering (in a voice-over) her devotion and sexual attraction to her lover. Similarly, the texture of clothing is given particular attention. Cynthia’s preparation for the women’s roleplaying is revealed in detail, as she is seen transforming her appearance through tight clothing, make-up and wigs. The camera cuts to close-up and medium shots to portray the details of Cynthia pulling on her stocking over her thigh and putting on her high-heeled shoes. The voyeurism of such images is echoed by Evelyn’s actions, as she watches her lover change through the bedroom keyhole; the detailing of clothes touching skin is revealed to be an integral part of Evelyn’s sexual gratification. As such, Cynthia’s body – and how she dresses it – is fetishized on both narrative and visual levels.

The emphasis the film places upon images of nature – as well as the titular insect – enhances this sensory experience further. This is established in the film’s opening shots which show Evelyn seated – with her back towards us – within a woodland area. The trickling of the water from the stream and the (unseen) birds in the trees dominant the soundtrack. Interestingly, the film does not resolve the mystery of the identity of this seated figure initially, as the film first cuts to a series of close-ups detailing the running water as it ripples around rocks in the stream. An edit back to the medium to long shot of Evelyn sees her turn her head upwards to the right, which then instigates a cut to a close-up of the sun shining through the trees, with the leaves gently rustling in the breeze. Such imagery helps to conjure up the experience of being in such a place: the sounds of wildlife and the smell of the damp soil in the air. This attention to detail is once again mirrored by the importance Evelyn places upon environments, textures, sights and sounds in the creation of her fantasies.

The use of this imagery also illuminates several tensions at work within the film’s narrative and its viewing experience. This is embodied by the film’s opening: specific features are depicted in some detail (like the running water) and yet Evelyn’s identity remains obscure and is not initially resolved by her first interactions with Cynthia (we only learn later that these events are orchestrated). More broadly, the film has no real sense of place or time – despite the detailing of the environment – and yet the narrative is still anchored by a specificity in locations, with the action occurring between the house, the grounds, the lecture room and the library. The nature scenes evoke connotations of a larger ecology – of life going on elsewhere – as is implied by Evelyn’s question during the Lepidoptera lecture about ‘other regions’. And yet these references to the outside world are contained by the film’s concentration on Evelyn’s and Cynthia’s relationship: the women’s world may be in an unknown location and time, but it is one which is consistent and insular. The intense focus through which we observe Evelyn’s and Cynthia’s lives evokes a feeling of claustrophobia, which is enhanced again through repetition: the lovers re-play their sadomasochistic scenarios again and again (with the same dialogue and actions), and images are also repeated, such as the close-ups of the pinned moths in Cynthia’s study, and the shots which depict Evelyn arriving at the house on her bicycle. This appeal to a sense of claustrophobia parallels Evelyn’s desire to feel smothered by her lover, which culminates in her introduction of the trunk into her sexual activities with Cynthia.

These aspects also point to the tensions which exist between Evelyn and Cynthia, and their relationship to broader ideas about the Gothic heroine. The film complicates our initial assessment of the connection between the women by revealing Cynthia’s apparent maltreatment of her maid to be the carefully choreographed and scripted rituals of Evelyn’s submissive desires. The power dynamics are further complicated by the fact that it is not Evelyn who is therefore the oppressed female protagonist but rather Cynthia, who becomes increasingly uncomfortable and overwhelmed by Evelyn’s insistence on playing these games and controlling Cynthia totally, including how she looks and what she says. Both women, therefore, embody different ideas we have discussed previously about how Gothic heroines are portrayed. Significantly, as with other Gothic films, the house plays an integral part in this: indeed, it is Evelyn’s anticipation from arriving at the front door and being kept waiting before being admitted to the house which a key part of her fantasy, signalling the beginning of her sexual interaction with Cynthia.

It is also interesting that whilst the intensity – and potential destruction – of the women’s relationship is emphasised throughout, Burgundy does not follow the peaks and troughs in emotion associated with melodrama and other Gothic films, such as Rebecca (1940). The intensity of the above tensions is maintained with only very subtle variations in mood: Cynthia’s emotional breakdown is indicated by several close-up shots of her looking dejected by Evelyn’s escalating requests, criticisms of her performance and feelings of betrayal when it is revealed Evelyn has polished another woman’s boots. Indeed, Cynthia’s apparent revenge for Evelyn’s behaviour is portrayed in an understated manner, as she deliberately wears the pyjamas Evelyn hates (rather than the revealing lingerie) and deviates from Evelyn’s script. The moment does not feature an outpouring of emotion or confrontation but is perhaps even more disturbing because of this: Cynthia covers Evelyn’s mouth with her foot when she attempts to say the lovers’ safe word pinastri. Evelyn silently weeps as Cynthia mocks her efforts to stop the roleplay in a scene which depicts the only time Cynthia appears to abuse Evelyn for real.

As argued in the introduction to the film, Burgundy’s relationship to the ‘queerness’ of the Gothic is revealed by these tensions, which act as reminders to the importance of the Gothic heroine within these discussions on the genre as a mode of storytelling. Burgundy takes these discussions further by challenging our assumptions and previous experience of who the Gothic heroine is and the relationship she has with the house. This point is underlined by the film’s ambiguous ending. Diane Waldman argues that, within the Hollywood Gothic films of the 1940s, the ending would reveal whether the heroine’s perspective had been validated or invalidated (a conclusion reflected by whether the film was pre or post-war) (Waldman, 1984). In Burgundy, it is difficult to ascertain whose perspective has been ‘validated’ and whether the film’s (and its characters’) investigation into the women’s relationship has actually revealed and resolved anything. In the final scenes, Cynthia finally breaks into tears and Evelyn begs her forgiveness and love saying she will do ‘anything’ to prove her devotion. The following montage shows the women sleeping in the bed together, the trunk being removed and Evelyn’s scripts and instructions being burnt. There seems to be a fresh understanding between the women and a renewed affection, as reflected by the shots which superimpose the women’s faces during their embrace. A voice-over narration hears Evelyn reassure Cynthia that ‘everything is fine’. Yet this montage ends with an edit to Evelyn seated back within the woodland area, with only the sounds of her environment audible on the soundtrack. The roleplaying game – and the film – repeats again, with Evelyn cycling towards the house and Cynthia putting on her tight skirt and wig. Significantly, we do not dwell on the moment Evelyn arrives and is kept waiting at the door – an action we know from previous occurrences is integral to Evelyn’s gratification. Rather, the final shot focuses on Cynthia as she gazes longingly into the mirror. It is an ambiguous moment which questions Evelyn’s assertion that ‘everything is fine’: is Evelyn controlling an unwilling Cynthia again? Will these actions inevitably follow the tensions previously experienced? Or have the women established a relationship based on equality and mutual respect and understanding? Burgundy once again subverts expectations and, in a truly Gothic manner, leaves such meanings up to personal interpretation.

References

Waldman, D. (1984). “At last I can tell it to someone!” Feminine Point of View and Subjectivity in the Gothic Romance Film of the 1940s.” Cinema Journal, 23 (2): 29-40.

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 4th of April, 5-7pm, Jarman 7

Posted on April 2, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

After a brief break for the Festival of Projections Passages of Gothic installation, we return to the previously advertised screening schedule. All are very welcome to join us for the last of this term’s Screening and Discussion sessions, which will take place on Monday the 4th of April, 5-7pm, in Jarman 7.

We will be showing Frances’ choice The Duke of Burgundy (2014, Peter Strickland, 105 mins). Frances has very kindly provided the following introduction:

Peter Strickland’s The Duke of Burgundy (2014) is a film not easily classified. Upon its release, critics contextualised the work within European art cinema traditions, with comparisons to Luis Buñuel and Ingmar Bergman, as well as noting the influences of 1960s and 70s sexploitation films (Collin, 2015; Foundas, 2014). Strickland, himself, concurs with this broad range of inspiration, noting how, amongst others, he was inspired by films such as A Virgin among the Living Dead (1973) and Belle de Jour (1967) (Strickland, 2015). I propose that another way to interpret this challenging and compelling film is to think about it within the traditions of the Gothic. If we reflect upon the Gothic tropes and motifs discussed over the course of the term, it becomes clear how Burgundy may be analysed in this fashion. The film is set in an undisclosed place at an unknown time and – as indicated by the film’s opening scene – the narrative focuses upon the action taking place in and around the house. The film begins with Evelyn sitting alone in a woodland and the title sequence takes place as we follow Evelyn as she journeys from this peaceful area towards the large, dominating house. Upon arrival the non-diegetic whimsical music abruptly stops and the sounds of Spring audible elsewhere on the soundtrack – such as birds singing – suddenly convey a different, more menacing tone. Evelyn rings the doorbell and waits anxiously as the footsteps within take some time to finally arrive. When they do Evelyn is faced with a stern-looking Cynthia at the door who coarsely reprimands her: ‘You’re late’. Silently Evelyn walks through the door towards the dark gloom of the house within.

The emphasis upon the house and the interactions of the heroine within it, is only one way Burgundy draws upon the traditions of the Gothic. There are other motifs which we have seen in the Gothic films screened previously appearing here: the importance of a key; the idea of secrets to be uncovered and hidden places; the imperilled woman who, in this case, appears to be oppressed and abused; and the heroine’s exploration of the domestic space within darkness. Indeed, Burgundy features a memorable moment when Evelyn gets out of bed in the middle of the night– whilst significantly dressed in a white nightie – and ventures into the dark cellar, lighting her way with a candelabra. This iconic image of the investigative heroine is one we have seen numerous times in the other Gothic films watched, as reflected by the several examples we included in our Passages of Gothic installation two weeks ago. In this way, Burgundy appears to be another return to the Gothic which is evident elsewhere within contemporary cinema: the year after Burgundy sees the release of Ex Machina and Crimson Peak (both 2015). These films echo the Gothic in comparable ways as Ex Machina evokes the Bluebeard tale in its translation of the Gothic heroine into an android in a science-fiction story, whilst Crimson Peak mirrors the familiar tale of a woman marrying a man she hardly knows in manner evocative of Rebecca (1940), albeit with events now taking place in a period setting.

Ex Machina and Crimson Peak are reminders of the Gothic’s roots, particularly in respect to the centrality of relationships between men and women within the narrative’s trajectory. It is here that Burgundy differs. Evelyn and Cynthia are a lesbian couple and the story focuses on the dynamics of their sadomasochistic roleplaying in which Evelyn is the willing submissive. More broadly, Burgundy explores the relationships between various women within the film, with these interactions being alternately sexual, romantic, friendships, business transactions or scientific discussions. In Burgundy’s world, there are no men at all; indeed, even the mannequins which are part of the audience for the Lepidoptera lectures are female. The absence of a male figure may signal an alternative interpretation of the Gothic mode but this should not be read as a new, radical opposition to the Gothic ‘norm’ (if such a concept exists). In fact, it can be said that Burgundy harkens back to past themes and representations which can be analysed through the theories of queer Gothic.

Queer theory and the Gothic have shared tendencies insofar as both emphasise contrary readings and the importance of subtext. George Haggerty pushes this idea further, arguing that the Gothic ‘offers a historical model of queer theory and politics: transgressive, sexually coded and resistant to dominant ideology’ (Haggerty, 2006, 2). Brian Robinson traces a similar historical connection, noting that ‘[t]he queer is inscribed in the DNA of Gothic fiction’ (Robinson, 2013, 143). This genealogy is one which the cinema inherits and capitalises upon because, as Robinson continues, it ‘was on film that the tropes of the Queer Gothic would find their full flowering’ (143). The queer readings possible – or, arguably, inevitable – of The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) and the numerous adaptations of Dracula (1897), along with cinema’s continued fascination with vampires, strongly supports this assertion. The female Gothic can also be contextualised within this lineage: the importance of the Gothic heroine’s relationship with the archetypal ‘other woman’ begins to illuminate how such films can be interpreted through queer readings. A key example of this is the new Mrs de Winter’s discovery of the obsessive behaviour of Mrs Danvers towards her previous mistress in Rebecca (1940).

Burgundy brings to the fore the implied interpretations and queer subversions which have a historical precedent within cinema’s Gothic. In this way, the film becomes an embodiment of the uncanny: the return of the repressed which is, as Freud writes, unheimliche because this element ‘is actually nothing new or strange, but something that was long familiar to the psyche and was estranged from it only through being repressed’ (Freud, 1919, 148). Mair Rigby explores how the Gothic is queer – and how queer theory is Gothic – through the dialectics of the uncanny. Rigby argues:

When I say that queer scholarship’s encounter with the Gothic is ‘uncanny’, I mean that it appears to be based on a sense of a ‘secret encounter’ in which the texts bring to light something that ought to be repressed, something that feels particularly pertinent to people whose identities, bodies, and desires have been culturally designated ‘queer’. (Rigby, 2009, 48)

Burgundy presents this ‘bringing to light’ quite overtly through the portrayal of a world without men and in the detailing of alternative sexual practices which form an integral part of pivotal scenes between Evelyn and Cynthia. The fact that the most explicit forms of these acts remain off-screen only emphasises further their unheimliche nature: they are both familiar and normalised – we meet The Carpenter who specialises in building sadomasochist contraptions – and strange and marginal, as reflected by the way these practices are pushed to the periphery of the frame. Most importantly for Burgundy, however, is how the uncanniness of the story draws attention to the dynamics of the relationship between Evelyn and Cynthia, which is fraught with difficulties. By presenting us with two Gothic heroines, the film returns us to the central questions which orbit the archetypal female protagonist within this mode of storytelling: is the house a safe space or a danger? Within the romantic relationship, who holds the knowledge and the power? Whose secret is to be uncovered? What forms of oppression must the female protagonist(s) struggle against? Burgundy therefore revisits the ‘queerness’ of the Gothic and the significance of the Gothic heroine, although the film offers some surprising answers to the questions above: just like the ‘repressed’ returning to the light through the processes of the uncanny, so too does Burgundy remind us how what we initially think of as familiar or unusual, may quickly become conversely strange and homely.

References

Collin, R. (2015). The Duke of Burgundy: ‘Sexy and Strange’. [Online]. The Telegraph. Available from: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/film/duke-of-burgundy/review/ [Accessed 30 March 2016].

Foundas, S. (2014). Film Review: The Duke of Burgundy. [Online]. Variety. Available from: http://variety.com/2014/film/festivals/film-review-the-duke-of-burgundy-1201331373/ [Accessed 30 March 2016].

Freud, S. (1919). The Uncanny. In: Freud, S. (2003). The Uncanny. London: Penguin Books Ltd.

Haggerty, G. (2006) Queer Gothic. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006.

Rigby, M. (2009). Uncanny Recognition: Queer Theory’s Debt to the Gothic. Gothic Studies, Volume. 11 Issue 1.

Robinson, B. (2013). Queer Gothic. In: Bell, J (Ed). Gothic: The Dark Heart of Film. Witham: Colt Press.

Strickland, P. (2015). Peter Strickland: Six Films that Fed into The Duke of Burgundy [Online]. BFI. Available from: http://www.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/news-bfi/features/peter-strickland-six-films-fed-duke-burgundy [Accessed 30 March 2016].

Thanks very much for the introduction Frances! Do join us, if you can, for what sounds like a fascinating Gothic film many of us will have been intrigued by whilst watching the Passages of Gothic installation.

Further Information on the Gothic Feminism Symposium 26th-27th of May

Posted on March 8, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

Frances has very kindly provided some useful links to the upcoming Gothic Feminism Symposium’s presence on social media.

The blog: https://gothicfeminism.wordpress.com/

The account on Twitter: https://twitter.com/GothicFeminism

Do visit these great sites for news and updates.

The International Festival of Projections 18th-20th of March

Posted on March 8, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

The Melodrama Research Group is taking part in the University’s International Festival of Projections, running from the 18th-20th of March.

We will be presenting a piece entitled Passages of Gothic on the 20th of March from 5-8pm in Eliot Dining Hall. This 3 screen installation, lasting around 20 minutes, will begin on each hour and half hour.

Our blurb:

Experience an atmospheric multi-screen installation celebrating the Gothic heroine in film. While she is often dismissed as a passive observer, this curated collection of classic film clips privileges the Gothic heroine in moments of active investigation and bravery. These often stand directly in opposition to her suffering and persecution. Explore the slippage between women’s private and public behaviours in a setting which reflects, indeed heightens, the complexity of these underrated female protagonists.

You can find more information, including the Festival’s programme, here: http://www.kent.ac.uk/projections/

Call For Papers: Gothic Feminism Symposium at the University of Kent, Thursday 26th-Friday 27th of May

Posted on February 24, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

Exciting News! Melodrama Research Group members Frances and Tamar are organising a symposium entitled: Gothic Feminism: The Representation of the Gothic Heroine in Cinema. This builds on our Gothic focus over the last 6 months and seems especially apt given our most recent screening of The Stepford Wives (1975). The symposium will take place at the University of Kent Canterbury campus from Thursday 26th to Friday 27th of May. Our confirmed keynote is Catherine Spooner of Lancaster University: http://www.lancaster.ac.uk/english-and-creative-writing/about-us/people/catherine-spooner

Gothic Feminism:

The Representation of the Gothic Heroine in Cinema

University of Kent

Thursday 26^th – Friday 27^th May 2016

Confirmed Keynote: Catherine Spooner, Lancaster University

CALL FOR PAPERS

Since its literary beginnings, the Gothic has featured distinctive female characters who engage with, and are often central to, the uncanny narratives characteristic of the genre. The eponymous ‘Gothic heroine’ conjures up images of the imperilled young and inexperienced woman, cautiously exploring the old dark house or castle where she is physically confined by force – imprisoned by the tale’s tyrant – or metaphorically trapped by societal expectations of marriage and domesticity. The Gothic heroine is habitually motivated by an investigative spirit and usually explores her surroundings in a quest to uncover a sinister secret which will, for example, reveal her love interest’s past or provide explanation for her supposedly supernatural encounters.

The importance of the Gothic’s women protagonists is not limited to these narrative functions but extends to considerations of the genre itself; the Gothic can be defined by its portrayal of the heroine. Ellen Moers’ work on female literary traditions is a key text in this respect, identifying the ‘Female Gothic’ as a distinctive mode within the genre. The ‘Female Gothic’ highlights the prevalence of female writers exploring the Gothic mode and the implied woman reader engaging with the heroine’s exploits. Moers writes that ‘Female Gothic’ texts – such as those by Ann Radcliffe – convey a specific form of ‘heroinism’ which evokes the idea of a ‘literary feminism’.

Moers’ work demonstrates how the Gothic and the Gothic heroine intersect with feminist criticism because, as Helen Hanson notes, ‘the female gothic bears a political charge’ (Hanson, 2007, 63). This ‘political charge’ is equally applicable to the Gothic film and its representation of the heroine. In cinema, the Gothic enjoyed particular attention with the 1940s cycle of melodrama and noir films which emphasised the Gothic traits of the old dark house, mystery and domestic threat, with the Gothic heroine’s exploits central throughout. Films such as Rebecca (1940), Gaslight (1940/1944) and Secret Beyond the Door (1947) are exemplary of this trend. Several writers have explored the political and feminist ramifications of these films which have been seen as Gothic or, as Mary Ann Doane writes, ‘paranoid woman’s films’ (Doane, 1987). The reception and interpretation of these films is inextricably linked to societal contexts in which these films were made, as Diane Waldman notes how the war and immediate post-war period offer distinct visions – and varying degrees of validation – of the heroine’s feminine perspective.

This symposium seeks to re-engage with these theories and reflect specifically upon the depiction of the Gothic heroine in film. Since the release of Rebecca over 75 years ago, has our evaluation of the Gothic heroine necessarily changed? How does the Gothic heroine relate to its literary predecessors? Can one speak of a cinematic Gothic heroine, distinct and separate from the original Gothic literature? Victoria Nelson notes that, in film history, ‘[in] a relatively short span of time, the perennial swooning damsel in distress had turned into a millennial female jock’ (Nelson, 2013, 136). How have the Gothic heroines of the screen evolved and is it possible to trace this specific lineage in contemporary representations? Whether the Gothic heroine be a ‘damsel’ or a ‘jock’, this inevitably raises the question of interpretation: how should the Gothic heroine be evaluated and can such a representation be thought of as ‘feminist’?

This symposium will engage with these questions of representation, interpretation and feminist enquiry in relation to the Gothic heroine throughout film history including present day incarnations, with films such as Crimson Peak (2015) directly re-engaging with the Gothic genre. This event seeks to wrestle with the difficulties posed by the Gothic as a mode which emphasises terror, the uncanny and suspense, alongside representations of women protagonists who given agency as investigators motivating narrative development but are subjected to horror for the story’s pleasure. These difficulties are not new to the Gothic genre. As Fred Botting notes: ‘Women’s gothic, it seems, straddles contradiction and challenge, persecution and pleasure’ (Botting, 2008, 153). Similarly, David Punter and Glennis Byron write that ‘[whether] female Gothic should be seen as radical or conservative has been an issue of particular concern’ (Punter and Bryon, 2004, 280). This symposium will illuminate the concerns, contradictions and challenged posed by the Gothic heroine on-screen through reference to specific case studies which re-engage with older examples of the Gothic and/or explore contemporary films, reflecting upon the renewed academic and commercial interest in the genre of recent years.

Topics can include but are not limited to:

How interpretations of the Gothic heroine relates to large feminist criticisms. Can Gothic film be said to be ‘progressive’? Is the Gothic heroine always defined in relation to a patriarchy?
In light of Moers’ work, can one speak of ‘heroinism’ and a ‘cinematic feminism’ to Gothic film?
Historical explorations of the Gothic heroine in cinema. How has representations of the heroine changed and how does this relate to larger social and political contextual concerns?
Contemporary incarnations of the Gothic heroine.
Comparisons between the cinematic Gothic heroine and the genre’s literary beginnings.
On-screen adaptations of Gothic literary texts.
How does the Gothic heroine compare to other distinctive representations of female protagonists in genres such as melodrama and horror? Is the Gothic heroine a distinct and separate entity apart from other genres, or is she inextricably linked to them?
Can one speak of a separate Gothic heroine tradition in cinema?
The reception of Gothic film and Gothic heroine audiences.
The relationship between the heroine and space, particularly domestic spaces such as the house. How does architecture relate to the representation of the Gothic heroine?
The significance of costume and fashion to the Gothic heroine’s identity.
Comparisons between the Gothic heroine and other protagonists, such as the archetypal ‘other woman’ or male lead. How, for example, is the concept of ‘Gothic feminism’ affected by the genre’s representation of masculinity/masculinities?
The Gothic heroine as virgin or mother figure.

Please submit proposals of 500 words, along with a short biographical note (250 words) to gothicfeminism2016@gmail.com by 18th March 2016.

Frances Kamm and Tamar Jeffers McDonald, University of Kent.

References

Botting, Fred. (2008). Gothic Romanced: Consumption, Gender and Technology in Contemporary Fictions. Oxford: Routledge.

Doane, Mary Ann. (1987). The Desire to Desire: The Woman’s Film of the 1940s. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Hanson, Helen. (2007). Hollywood Heroines: Women in Film Noir and the Female Gothic Film. London and New York: I. B. Tauris.

Moers, Ellen. (1976). Literary Women. New York: Doubleday and Co.

Nelson, Victoria. (2013). ‘Daughters of Darkness’. In: Gothic: The Dark Heart of Film. London: BFI.

Punter, David. and Byron, Glennis. (2004). The Gothic. Oxford: Blackwell.

Waldman, Diane. (1983). ‘”At last I can tell it to someone!” Feminine point of view and Subjectivity in the Gothic Romance Film of the 1940s’, Cinema Journal 23: 29-40.

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 22nd of February, 5-7pm, Jarman 7

Posted on February 20, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

All are very welcome to join us for the third of this term’s Screening and Discussion sessions, which will take place on Monday the 22nd of February, 5-7pm, in Jarman 7.

We will be showing Frances’ choice The Stepford Wives (1975, Bryan Forbes, 115 mins). Frances has very kindly provided the following introduction:

Bryan Forbes’s 1975 screen adaptation of The Stepford Wives may seem, at first, a long way away from the eerie shots of Manderley which open Rebecca (1940) or the exuberant period costume of Uncle Silas (1947), viewed during the last session. Indeed, The Stepford Wives opens in a modern New York apartment where our protagonist – Joanna – sits alone. Soon afterwards, Joanna and her family will be seen outside in the busy city and a man carrying a mannequin across the street captures Joanna’s eye as a keen photographer. The film’s beginning – with its emphasis on the bright, noisy and modern city, and Joanna’s role as a wife and mother as well as an inspiring professional photographer – appears to radically contrast the Gothic films discussed in previous weeks. Yet The Stepford Wives soon reveals how the tropes of the Gothic infuse this tale of horror set in a seemingly perfect suburban community. The film conveys the same Gothic anxieties of the menacing dark house, the suspicious husband and the investigative heroine whose well-being is very much jeopardized. The historical context into which The Stepford Wives was made and originally released supports these assertions: the film appears at the same time that Gothic fiction enjoyed a renewed interest, with Gothic novels – published in cheap paperback editions – were enormously popular, as beginning with Phyllis Whitney’s Thunder Heights in 1960.

However, the significance of The Stepford Wives resides not just within a contemporaneous interest in Gothic narratives, but also in how the film directly interrogates the socio-political context of the US in the 1970s using the Gothic mode. In 1963 Betty Friedan has published her influential The Feminine Mystique which explored the unhappiness of suburban housewives in the 1950s and 60s who struggled to find satisfaction from a life of domesticity and maternal duties. This is a central theme of The Stepford Wives: upon arrival Joanna is faced with beautiful women neighbours who are solely concerned with cleaning and cooking, whilst their husbands congregate for meetings of the ‘Stepford Men’s Association’. Joanna is unsettled by these occurrences and initially finds a kindred spirit in Bobbie who celebrates the sight of a messy kitchen. In this way, the rise of radical feminism in the 1960s and 70s in challenging gender stereotypes and traditional roles, and demanding legal and social change, should not just contextualise the viewer’s reading of the film, but clearly these progressive politics influenced the making of the film too. The politics of housework is explicitly mentioned in dialogue in the film, as is references to feminist movements, such as the women’s liberation movement in New York.

Anna Krugovoy Silver argues that it is precisely this political context which informs the film and its interaction with the Gothic tradition. Interestingly, Silver notes that Friedan did not like the film because it seemed to demonize all men in the active oppression of women (Silver, 2002). However Silver argues that The Stepford Wives does not simply parody feminist discourse, like Friedan’s, but rather the film seeks to interrogate the ideas being discussed by feminists at the time and force a spotlight on aspects which continued to be contentious issues for many women, such as marriage and housework. In this way, The Stepford Wives becomes an important ‘sociocultural document’ for 1970s America. Silver continues: ‘[The] Stepford Wives arose out of these feminist critiques of marriage, but rather than simply exploiting the feminist critique, as Friedan implies, the message of Forbes’s suburban gothic is consistent with that of many second wave feminists. His conclusions about the family are indebted to, and consequently reinforced, the popularization of feminist rhetoric and theory’ (2002).

The Gothic helps to illuminate the interactions between the film and its political messaging. For example, the threat from the male protagonist – which is often translated into the suspicious activities of the secretive husband in the 1940s Hollywood Gothics – now becomes the oppression of the murderous male community in The Stepford Wives. The role of the Gothic heroine in revealing secrets of the narratives as an active investigator becomes Joanna’s role in exposing male privilege and its subjugation of women. And the presence of the old, dark house becomes a symbol for where such inequality emerges and is resisted by 1970s feminists and Joanna alike. As Silver observes, the film emphasises how ‘the patriarchy begins in the home’ (Silver, 2002).

Elyce Rae Helford also writes how The Stepford Wives engages with the political context of its making and highlights how the film is a contemporary of Laura Mulvey’s famous essay on ‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema’(Helford, 2006). The Stepford Wives helps to show how Mulvey’s work thus becomes another important historical document in the interaction between feminist movements and the creation of artworks, and in particular film. Helford’s comparison is interesting on another level too: The Stepford Wives appears to interrogate the idea of a male gaze, as the women in the film are – quite literally – formed in the shape deemed desirable to their husbands. This stands in tension with Joanna’s resistance against the Men’s Association and – on a metaphoric level – her role as a photographer and thus her control of the lens. This element of the film is of particular interest to the Melodrama Group’s wider discussion of representations of the Gothic heroine and the agency she has (or does not have) within the Gothic narrative. The Stepford Wives contributes to this conversation as the film presents the themes of looking, being watched and the female body as interwoven within the confines of a Gothic story which simultaneously speaks to the larger narrative of women’s rights and feminist movements of the 1970s.

References

Helford, Elyce Rae. 2006. ‘The Stepford Wives and The Gaze.’ Feminist Media Studies, 6 (2), 145-156.

Silver, Anna Krugovoy. 2002. ‘The Cyborg Mystique: The Stepford Wives and Second Wave Feminism.’ Women’s Studies Quarterly. 3 (1/2): 60-77. Online at: http://lion.chadwyck.co.uk.chain.kent.ac.uk/searchFulltext.do?id=R04239649&divLevel=0&area=abell&forward=critref_ft

Thanks Frances! And please note that due to the length of the film we will be starting promptly.

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 8th of February, 5-7pm, Jarman 7

Posted on January 28, 2016 by melodramaresearchgroup

All are very welcome to join us for the second of this term’s Screening and Discussion sessions, which will take place on Monday the 8th of February, 5-7pm, in Jarman 7.

We will be showing Uncle Silas, also known as The Inheritance, (1947, Charles Frank , 103 mins). We had previously scheduled this for November but technical difficulties meant we were unable to screen the film on that occasion.

Like Hitchcock’s Rebecca, Uncle Silas is adapted from a novel which places a woman in peril at its heart. Irish novelist Sheridan Le Fanu’s work has been far less adapted for film and television than Daphne Du Maurier’s, however. Most adaptations focus on his novella Carmilla – notably Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Vampyr (1932), Roger Vadim’s Blood and Roses (1960) and Roy Ward Baker’s Hammer Horror The Vampire Lovers (1970). Subsequent to the 1947 film version we are showing, Uncle Silas also appeared as a 2 part German TV series (Onkel Silas) in 1977 and a British TV 3 parter renamed The Dark Angel in 1989 starring Peter O’Toole, Beatie Edney and Jane Lapotaire.

Perhaps the reluctance to adapt Le Fanu is connected to earlier unsuccessful adaptions. ‘Cane’ reviewed the 1947 film for Variety (22^nd October, 1947) when it was released in London. The review’s opening line opined that the ‘[o]nly excuse for this blood-and-thunder meller appears to have been the desire to screen what is alleged to be one of the first thrillers’. This therefore pejoratively implies that melodrama (‘meller’) has little merit in and of itself – especially if it is of the ‘blood-and-thunder’ variety.

The review continues in an even more negative vein as it opines that the fact ‘Le Fanu’s novel is still in public demand probably explains why over $1,000,000 was spent on a yarn that should have been allowed to stay on the shelf.’ It outlines the story and rates it ‘hopeless’. The acting comes in for further criticism as Derrick de Marney ‘hams all over the place’ and surprise is expressed at the casting Jean Simmons and Katina Paxinou in the main female roles. The film is ‘labored hokum’ which ‘can add little to British prestige. It’s not for export.’

We can interestingly contrast this reception of a UK product based on a classic novel to Variety’s earlier view on an US production based on a contemporary work. Rebecca was positively received by Variety (26^th March, 1940) with both the film and the source novel praised: “Rebecca’ is an artistic success… noteworthy in its literal translation of Daphne du Maurier’s novel to the screen, presenting all of the sombreness and dramatic tragedy of the book in its unfolding’.

While Variety’s Uncle Silas review is not especially complimentary, the review’s closing line perhaps suggests an attitude we can adopt during the screening if the film’s gothic thrills and spills are less than satisfactory: the ‘‘[b]est hope for this is to exhibit it as a comic interpretation of a past era’.

Do join us if you can.