Hitchcock’s Rebecca (1940) showing at the Gulbenkian on the 26th of Jan

Posted by Sarah

As mentioned earlier on the blog, the Gulbenkian Cinema, located on the University of Kent campus, is screening a series of Gothic films between January and March.

The first is Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca (1940) on the 26th of January at 2.30 pm.

Rebecca poster

The Gulbenkian Cinema description of the film:

Alfred Hitchcock | US | 1940 | 130mins | Laurence Olivier, Joan Fontaine, George Sanders, Judith  Anderson

Alfred Hitchcock’s superlative psychological thriller  adapts Daphne du Maurier’s haunting tale of a naive young woman (Joan Fontaine)  who meets handsome, aristocratic widower Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) on  holiday in Monte Carlo and is swept off her feet by his whirlwind courtship.

Following their wedding, they move to his Cornish estate Manderley, where the  brooding Maxim once lived with his first wife, Rebecca, and where sinister  housekeeper Mrs Danvers (Judith Anderson) who is fiercely devoted to the memory  of her dead mistress, undermines Maxim’s new wife at every turn.

A beautifully  nuanced study in guilt and anxiety about sex, money and class, Rebecca continues to hold audiences  spellbound with its beguiling blend of lush romanticism and bleakly oppressive  suspense.

“A gorgeous treat from one of cinema’s masters. Not to be  missed.” Peter Bradshaw, The Guardian, 5  stars

“Tense, engrossing and deliciously deceitful.” David Parkinson, Empire Magazine

For more information and to book your ticket please go to:

http://www.thegulbenkian.co.uk/events/cinema/2014/January/2014-01-rebecca.html

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 22nd of January, Keynes Seminar Room 6, 4-7pm

Posted by Sarah

All are welcome to attend the first of this term’s screening and discussion sessions which will take place on the 22nd of January in Keynes Seminar Room 6, from 4pm to 7pm.

We will be screening The Hours (2002, Stephen Daldry, 114 mins).

the hours

Rosa has very kindly provided the following introduction which includes some fantastic photographs of some of the costumes:

The Hours (2002) will probably be remembered by the general audience as the film where Nicole Kidman sported a prosthetic nose to play the role of Virginia Woolf –  and for which she gained an Oscar. Nevertheless, it is a truly moving domestic melodrama where feeling identified in some way seems inevitable. Directed by Stephen Daldry and cleverly based on the homonymous novel written by Michael Cunningham, it is the story of three different generations of women living in three different times and places (Richmond, 1923, Los Angeles, 1951 and New York, 2001), but who have many similarities that we can gather from the very first scene. A writer, a reader and a character- Virginia Woolf (Nicole Kidman), Laura Brown (Julianne Moore) and Clarissa Vaughan (Meryl Streep) – are connected by the book Mrs. Dalloway, written by Woolf in the 1920s. As we will learn as the plot unfolds, the link between them goes beyond the expected, surprising us with a narrative twist and showing that each story could not be without the others.

To learn more about Michael Cunningham, the novel and the adaptation of it to screen, I suggest this article written by Cunningham and published a year after the film was released.

http://www.nytimes.com/2003/01/19/movies/my-novel-the-movie-my-baby-reborn-the-hours-brought-elation-but-also-doubt.html?pagewanted=print&src=pm

It analyses the process of creating a character for a book and how, once this piece becomes a screenplay, actors have to bring the characters to life, using various devices: data extracted from the written works, their own instinct, inspiration that can come from a small costume prop or through the transformation after the hair and make-up team have done their job, thinking how the character would behave beyond the story, etc. I suggest paying attention to performance and those details that help us understand the personal drama each of the characters is going through, within the confined spaces of their homes and routines.

The  film  received  nine  Oscar nominations and excellent reviews but award-winning designer Ann Roth  did  not  get  the  statue  for  Best  Costume  Design  as  the competition that year  was very strong and far more spectacular. Chicago,  The  Pianist,  Frida  and  Gangs  of  New  York  had  some elements  that  The  Hours  did  not  have,  such  as  the  quantity, extravagance  and  luxuriance  of  costume. The wardrobe that Roth created was accurate and straightforward; the nature of the script WP_003209 (1)required a variety of styles and periods but with no apparent opulence, so it could seem simplistic at first sight. However, the costumes were full of symbolism and hidden messages, a perfect example of how the costume plot has an independent language and, in this particular case, a very abundant one. Giving each character a thorough look and jointly with the rest, the richness of meaning is impressive. If costume represents interiority, there is no better example than this  one,  where  each  outfit shouts  something in silence – as Virginia, Laura and Clarissa do.

I would like to draw your attention to the colours and patterns that we see within the life of each character, both in costume and in décor. Every single costume change and scenography in each of the stories has a twin in the others, so I challenge you to find the connections and possible meaning of these repetitions.

WP_003239 (1)Some of the costumes for Nicole Kidman were hired and made at Cosprop, one of the world´s leading costumiers for theatre and screen, based in London. As you will see from the pictures provided, the state of hat and clothes was not perfect, but this fits the mentally disturbed Virginia, who, despite following the trends, would not worry too much about her looks. We also do not perceive stains and repairs on screen, so the outfit worked perfectly well for actress, designer and spectator.

Finally, and probably most importantly for this group, we have to talk about melodrama in The Hours. I thought the article “The Times of The Hours: Queer Melodrama and the Dilemma of Marriage”, by Julianne Pidduck (http://melodramaresearchgroupextra.wordpress.com/)  would explain this far better than I would, although it gives away a lot of information regarding the plot and could spoil the screening. Here is an abstract if you would like to avoid reading the article for this matter:

http://cameraobscura.dukejournals.org/content/28/1_82/37.abstract

As Stephen Daldry said in an interview “the (book) film celebrates life with all its complexities, life is the most powerful thing we have”. So I hope you enjoy watching The Hours as much as I do and come out of the screening full of hope and inspiration for life.

Always the love. Always the hours.

Do join us, if you can for the screening of a wonderful film and some great insider knowledge!

Gone With the Wind (1939) screening at the Gulbenkian Cinema on Sunday 12th of January

Posted by Sarah

The Gulbenkian Cinema, located on the University of Kent’s Canterbury campus, is screening the classic Hollywood melodrama Gone With the Wind (1939) on Sunday the 12th of January from 1.30 pm – 5.30 pm.

gone with the wind

The following is from the Gulbenkian Cinema’s website http://www.thegulbenkian.co.uk/events/cinema/2014/January/2014-01-gone-with-the-wind.html where you can also book your ticket.

Victor Fleming | USA | 1939/2013 | 233mins | Clark Gable, Vivien Leigh, Thomas Mitchell

Often considered the greatest films of all time – the pinnacle of polished Hollywood storytelling – this truly epic screen adaptation of Margaret Mitchell’s seminal work of American literature bristles with energy and passion and demands to be seen on the big screen following a 4K digital restoration.

It is 1861 on a palatial Southern estate, where Scarlett O’Hara (Leigh) hears that her casual beau Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard) plans to marry Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). Despite warnings from her father (Thomas Mitchell) and her faithful servant Mammy (Hattie McDaniel), Scarlett intends to throw herself at Ashley at an upcoming social event. Alone with Ashley, she goes into a fit of histrionics, all of which is witnessed by roguish Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), the black sheep of a wealthy Charleston family, who is instantly fascinated by the feisty, thoroughly self-centred Scarlett…

“It’s impossible not to be carried away by the rich arterial force of this storytelling.” Peter Bradshaw, The Guardian

Tickets: Full £7.50 / Concessions £6.50/ GulbCard Members £5.50 / Students £4.50 / GulbCard Students £4

This will be a great opportunity to see a beautifully restored version of the film on the big screen.

 

Summary of Discussion on Christmas Holiday

Posted by Sarah

The post-screening discussion focused on several areas:  suspense and the theme of concealment and revelation; matters of genre and cycles – especially film noir and melodrama; the main female character Jackie/Abigail; the star images of Deanna Durbin and Gene Kelly; costume; Somerset Maugham; a few specific scenes; other related films.

Christmas Holiday

We began by examining the film’s flashback structure. While the fractured approach to storytelling was not unusual for the time, especially in film noir, we found the way the film presented the narrative very odd. After the initial framing narrative of Charles Mason (Dean Harens), a Lieutenant on leave who ends up holidaying in New Orleans at Christmas, the main story begins. Jackie (formerly Abigail, played by Deanna Durbin) shares her life story with her new friend Lieutenant Mason.  She very quickly reveals the reason for her sadness, and her name change: her husband Robert Manette (played by Gene Kelly) is in prison, serving life for murder.

The fact that Jackie is explicit regarding her husband’s guilt and his crime (though not the motivation for it) so early in the film means that little suspense is created until the shoot-out at the film’s conclusion. Following the first flashback, which shows the consequences of Robert’s crime on family life, further flashbacks are provided. These detail Abigail and Robert’s first meeting, some of their subsequent dates, and Abigail’sChristmas Holiday guilt introduction to Robert’s omnipresent mother (played by Gale Sondergaard). Suspense would have been generated by just a slight reticence on Jackie’s part regarding the reason for her distressed state and a reordering of the flashbacks so that they occurred largely chronologically: the first date, subsequent dates, the revelation of Robert’s guilt etc.

While flashbacks and voice-over narration are key to film noir (whether we consider it to be a genre or a cycle) we noted that this lack of suspense did not relate to our experience of the genre/cycle. It also did not seem especially connected to melodrama’s often used theme of concealment and revelation. Of course, genre is often hybridised and any attempt to categorise a film as belonging to one genre or another based on whether certain elements are present is fairly restrictive. However we found it useful to relate other aspects of the film – mostly character – to genre.

It is fairly unusual for film noir to contain a female voice-over, to tell, and to show, the woman’s story. Jackie/Abigail is also treated sympathetically, partly because the rottenness of Robert is so evident. She is not a femme fatale. Robert’s mother is far more sinister. She is a malevolent presence throughout (even, or perhaps especially, whilst knitting in the background) despite welcoming Abigail as Robert’s last hope of salvation. However after the court case she provides one of the film’s most dramatic moments. She berates Abigail for her weakness, shouting ‘You killed him’ and Christmas Holiday knittingslapping her in the face. This is not just dramatic but inaccurate – Robert is soon to be sentenced to life imprisonment, but not to death. It also seems unfair on Abigail when it is clear that Robert’s life has been heavily influenced by his unhealthily close relationship to his mother. This point is also stated in the voice-over when Jackie reveals that it was described by a psychiatrist as ‘pathological’.

The focus on Jackie/Abigail is highlighted by the trailer’s promotion of   Durbin playing ‘The Screen’s Greatest Woman’s Role’. This confuses some of the usual (admittedly binary) gender distinctions of noir as being  ‘male’ oriented   and melodrama as ‘female’ focused – both in terms of character and audience. The melodrama research group has, of course, seen the sheer variety of melodrama over the last year which shows that the narrow view of melodrama as ‘woman’s weepies’ is highly reductive and unproductive.

Another aspect of the film seemed unusual – Deannafor both noir and melodrama. The film’s ending is rather hopeful. The recently widowed Jackie/Abigail looks to a sky in which the clouds are parting and there is a suggestion that she might find love with the supportive Lieutenant.  We related this optimism to Durbin’s star image. Given her hitherto fairly uncomplicated star image of a happy young girl who likes to sing it is noteworthy that this film allowed her to play two roles: the generally happy young wife and the woman ground down by life’s disappointments. Due to the flashback structure these were juxtaposed throughout the film, allowing for the foregrounding of Durbin’s performance. This means that after our first introduction to Jackie we are continually reminded of her ‘earlier’ self and of Durbin’s ‘earlier’ screen self – a happy young girl in love.

Gene Kelly dancerGene Kelly’s star image was also discussed. While today we primarily associate him with song-and-dance roles, contemporary audiences saw him in a variety of roles before Christmas Holiday. These included musicals (Du Barry Was a Lady 1943) and dramas (For Me and My Girl 1942, Pilot #5 1943, The Cross of Lorraine 1943).  (This information on the films’ genres is courtesy of the American Film Institute Catalog and notes some films as ‘with songs’ rather than as musicals: http://www.afi.com/members/catalog/)

We talked quite a lot about the Christmas Holiday Durbin's first appearancefilm’s costumes, especially Durbin’s wardrobe. She begins the film wearing a very glamorous and grown-up evening dress. This is striking as it is our first view of Jackie – and indeed of the ‘new’ Durbin. This is delayed, first by the framing narrative and then by the fact that Jackie/Durbin is first glimpsed with her back to the camera, making her way to the stage to perform a song.  Her next outfit was especially memorable. As Jackie and the Lieutenant sit talking in a café she is dressed in a light coloured trench coat and coordinating hat. Perhaps because of the film’s noirish elements, this reminded us of the detective figure in many 1940s films, and specifically of Humphrey Bogart. It is an especially interesting costume choice as this relation to the male star who played the protagonist of several noirs also Christmas Holiday trenchcoat and hatseems to place Jackie centrally. The wisecracking comments made by both Robert and Jackie were commented on. They reminded us of another film pair at times – Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Though it was notable that they did not interact in this way with each other since only Jackie, and not Abigail, has been made cynical by her experience.

The extent of Jackie’s suffering – being forced to turn to prostitution – is unsurprisingly not made explicit in the film. Hollywood’s Production Code meant that reference to this would not have been allowed by the censors. Somerset Maugham’s novel provided more information and it would be interesting to know just how widely the novel circulated in the United States. The trailer certainly foregrounds Maugham’s involvement.  We found it fruitful to briefly compare the adaptation of Christmas Holiday with Of Human Bondage (1934) which we watched at the beginning Of Human Bondageof term. The earlier, pre-code film, was able to mention Mildred’s descent into prostitution.  There is a key similarity, however.  Both adaptations extract just a small part of the novel, notably the part which deals more with the couple – which often occupies a main position in Hollywood films during the Studio Era.

In terms of specific scenes we noted the connection between the lengthy scene detailing Jackie and Lieutenant Mason’s Christmas Holiday churchattendance at midnight mass and the Abigail’s earlier (though shown later in the film) first meeting with Robert in a cavernous concert hall. In the church Jackie is sobbing… we took this as a reference to her feelings of guilt. However she assures the Lieutenant that she is not crying for the reason that he (and perhaps we) think. The Concert hall scene later shows what Jackie had been crying about – her memory of Robert.

We also briefly discussed the director Robert Siodmak’s other films. Similarities in the plots of Christmas Holiday and Edgar G. Ulmer’s Detour (1945) were mentioned.

If you missed the screening, or would like to rewatch it, you can find it on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UFSZay18go

After the discussion we watched a more festive Christmas film: Mickey’s Christmas Carol (1983). Bunny Mattinson’s short film managed to squeeze Charles Dickens’ novel into 20 minutes, but also managed to explore the relation between melodrama and comedy.

Do log in to comment, or email me on sp458@kent.ac.uk, to add your thoughts.

Thanks to everyone – especially Tamar, Ann-Marie and Geoff – for this week’s entertainment and provisions. Many thanks also to the entire Group for such a productive and fun term. Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year!

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 18th of December, Keynes Seminar Room 6, 4-7pm

Posted by Sarah

All are welcome to attend the eighth, and last, of this term’s screening and discussion sessions which will take place on the 18th of December in Keynes Seminar Room 6, from 4pm to 7pm.

We will be screening Christmas Holiday (1944, Robert Siodmak, 93 mins).

Christmas Holiday 1944

The Hollywood adaptation of the Somerset Maugham novel stars musical legends Deanna Durbin and Gene Kelly. The casting is misleading, however, as Universal studios was deliberately trying to insert some variation into Durbin’s hitherto relatively simple star image of a happy young girl who loved to sing. In Christmas Holiday Durbin plays a woman with a past (enough of one to need a new name), now working as a nightclub ‘hostess’.  We might compare Durbin’s change in role to the refreshing of Mary Pickford’s star image in Coquette (1929) which we screened a couple of weeks ago.

The film’s dark tone can be fruitfully related to its director as well as its stars.  Robert Siodmak later helmed the gothic-influenced The Spiral Staircase (1945) and The Dark Mirror (1946).

Christmas Holiday’s original trailer is available on youtube.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iOzpu5lMuU

The trailer’s central placement of the change in Durbin’s star image as well as the highlighting of the film’s noirish tone  are also seen in the print advertising. Below are some pages from the June issue of trade-oriented Box Office Magazine. (The date of the magazine also points to the fact the film might be somewhat misnamed-who releases a festive film in July?!)

To see the pages below in context please visit http://www.boxoffice.com/the_vault/issue_page?issue_id=1944-6-17&page_no=19#page_start

Christmas Holiday Box Office mag page 1 boxoffice_061744_19

Christmas Holiday Box Office mag page 2 boxoffice_061744_20

Christmas Holiday Box Office mag page 3 boxoffice_061744_21

Christmas Holiday Box Office Mag page 4 boxoffice_061744_22

Christmas Holiday Box Office mag page 5 boxoffice_061744_23

Christmas Holiday Box Office mag page 6 boxoffice_061744_24

The above pages (and lots of other useful material) can be found on the Box Office Magazine’s vault: http://www.boxoffice.com/the_vault

Do join us, if you can, for what promises to be an interesting discussion on the intersection of melodrama and noir. We also plan to screen a short bonus Christmas film (yet to be decided) afterwards, which will hopefully be more cheery!

Summary of Discussion on The Skin I Live In

Posted by Sarah,

Frances has very kindly provided the following summary of our post-screening discussion on The Skin I Live In (2011):

skin i live in

This week’s discussion centred on the topics of sexual identity, motherhood and other representations of femininity, performance and the use of the male gaze as evoked by the screening of The Skin I Live In. The session began with an introduction from Keeley, as well as some notes on the film’s production from Rosa. Rosa explained how the shooting of the film was quite stressful for all involved and this seems to have affected the performance of the actors in the film which is particularly apt for the film’s troubling themes. A lot of the film was shot at night and on location and Almódovar was quite an excessive character to work with, demanding sets be re-built from scratch if they did not meet his exacting standards. Rosa also noted how the colour red is important for the film, and Spanish culture more widely, representing as it does passion, love, war, blood, fire and sexuality. Almódovar is particularly adept at skin i live in almodovar and redutilising the colour as red can be found in a lot of his films (especially on the posters) and red is also present somewhere in the frame in most of the shots in this film. Rosa also told us that the vintage shop seen in The Skin I Live In is a real shop belonging to costume designer Paco Delgado (who, more recently, has worked on and received an award nomination for Les Miserables).

Rosa remarked how these anecdotes of a difficult shoot are fascinating to consider, as they both reveal the unique workings of the director and how such a stressful production, combined with a difficult plot, can infect the crew and their modus operandi. Rosa commented that this production history translates into the viewing experience of the film, as The Skin I Live In draws audiences into its complicated tone and difficult story, as though making them a ‘prisoner’ of the film as well.

Keeley offered another thorough introduction to the film which focused on the main themes of the narrative. She mentioned how, in particular, maternal devotion, sexual identity, family relationships and the home are central to the film. Another recurring and important motif is that of the double: this is present on a narrative level with the physical transformation of Vicente to Vera, but it is also apparent elsewhere in the film, such as with the visual similarity of characters (Vera is made to look like Robert’s deceased wife) eyes withoutand through the comparable roles assigned to characters (there are three mothers which feature in the film). The double can also said to be present in the way The Skin I Live In relates to other melodramas, such as Frankenstein, Eyes Without a Face and Rebecca. Obsession and sexual identity also features in the narratives of these films, just as it does in The Skin I Live In.

Keeley found the following quote particularly helpful in thinking about this film. It reads:

“In its final scenes, The Skin I Live In takes a turn that is as unexpected as it is brilliant. It no longer tells a story or revenge, but rather the story of a conversion.” (Gustavo Martin Garzo in The Pedro Almodovar Archives, edited by Paul Duncan & Bárbara Peiró, 2011. p. 373).

The film, in this way, is about accepting (or not) the identity forced upon you and this has particular implications for the film’s ending: is this positive or not? Keeley stated she thought that it was as it signalled hope for Vera and this was a discussion point we returned to later. Keeley also noted that The Skin I Live In is an important film to think about Almódovar as an auteur and where it fits into his larger body of work. This film is, in many ways, Almódovar’s most polished film although skin i live in directionmelodrama runs throughout all of his films. The Skin I Live In is a denser and more emotionally complex film. It is also interesting that Antonio Banderas should appear in the film: this is his first film with Almódovar for a long time and also signals Banderas’ return to Spanish film. The Skin I Live In allowed Banderas to explore a deeply emotional character and our reaction to Robert was another discussion point we returned to later.

skin i live i  vera

After the screening of the film, comments opened with the thought that secrets are an incredibly important aspect to the film’s narrative and melodrama more widely. The secret as to the ‘true self’ occurred on several occasions in The Skin I Live In and is reflected by the film’s unusual structure: the crucial backstory explaining who Vera is – and how she became Vera – is delayed. Another delay occurs with Vera’s true intentions, which sees her murdering Robert at the end. There is some debate whether this was Vera’s plan all along or as a result of seeing Vicente’s image in the newspaper again after all those years. Vera’s actions at the end of the film are also complicated because the love making scene which takes place between her and Robert seems genuine and affectionate and therefore not does hint at Vera’s murderous intent moments later.

The relationship between Vera and Robert was discussed at length and we commented how the almost incestuous nature of their coupling is an important part of the film’s difficult narrative (by making love to Vera, Robert is having sex with the person who raped his daughter). We agreed that the most disturbing sex scene is the earlier one between Robert and Vera, following the latter’s rape by Zeca the ‘tiger man’. Although Robert clearly expresses his desire for Vera earlier on in the film (by watching her intently on the large TV screen), this sexual liaison Skin I live in screenappears to be for the purpose of Robert reclaiming Vera as his ‘property’ and ‘marking his territory’ after her defilement by the tiger man. The fact all of these scenes take place before the revelation of Vera’s original identity and early on in the narrative, makes the film an uncomfortable viewing experience from the start.

We discussed the film’s enigmatic ending and Keeley explained how she finds this conclusion quite hopeful for Vera: Vera’s return to the shop points to the cyclical nature of the narrative and emphasises how she is now free from her captivity. The shop assistant is important to this scene: we see earlier Vicente’s banter with his fellow employee and the emotional and physical attraction between them is evident again at the end, perhaps even more so with Vicente’s transformation into Vera. The shop also seems like a fitting and safe place for Vera to return to not only because this is home but because this is the only place where we see some humour in the film take place (the dubious customer service and buying of ‘fat’ clothes seen earlier in the film when we are first introduced to Vicente). Yet even in this seemingly light-hearted sequence, the film appears to prophesise Vicente’s demise, as there is a visual match between the skin i live in endingearly shot of the dress in the window (with Vicente on the inside of the shop), and the shot of the dress in the window again at the end (with Vera reflected from the outside). Keeley also noted how this latter shot features a background patterning in the shop which is similar to the drawings Vera makes on the walls of her locked room in Robert’s house, as though foreshadowing Vicente’s inevitable imprisonment as Vera.

Although there is a hopeful tone to the film’s concluding moments, the ending is not without its ambiguities and frustrations for the viewer either. Importantly, the film fades to black before Vicente’s mother can react to her son’s new appearance, which is also significant because the mother firmly told the police that she believed her son to still be alive. We expanded this point to comment how an integral part of the melodrama of the film is not just the suffering of Robert and Vera (and, by extension, Norma whose downfall is a combination of her mother’s death and Vicente’s actions), but the narrative also includes three suffering mothers. These are: Robert’s mother, who tells Vera her tragic life story and is also the mother of Zeca; Robert’s wife, who attempts to elope with Zeca but is left to burn in their crashed car and eventuallyskin i live in suffering mother commits suicide; and Vicente’s mother, whose child is pronounced dead by the authorities even though she believes he was kidnapped. Therefore The Skin I Live In features several personal melodramas occurring simultaneously and the complexity with which these stories relate poses a challenge for spectators and their engagement with these characters.

We also discussed how performance, identity, and costume become conflated in The Skin I Live In, with characters frequently embodying the roles of their outer appearance. For example, Zeca’s tiger ‘skin’ is an apt costume as he acts aggressively first towards his mother (who he ties up in the kitchen) and then towards Vera. Zeca’s depraved treatment of Vera begins by him licking the TV screen displaying Vera in her locked room and we then see several cuts of Zeca ‘stalking’ his prey before raping her. Vera also plays the role dictated to by her outward appearance. For example we see Vera perform domestic chores, cleaning her room and preparing breakfast for Robert. Robert skin i live in vera defends robertattempts to enforce a very specific definition of femininity onto Vera, by supplying her with dresses and make up. Yet Vera also uses her new ‘feminine wiles’ to trick Robert, as when she attacks him when wearing the black stocking she asked him to zip up, or later when Vera tries to convince Robert to give her freedom to roam the house by attempting to seduce him.

This rather stereotypical representation of the feminineSkin I live in mannequin is also emphasised by the exaggerated use of the male gaze in the film. This occurs with Zeca and his licking of the TV screen, but Vera is also subjected to Robert’s gaze. Robert watches Vera on the huge TV screen in his room and he fragments Vera’s body for his own gratification by zooming the camera in on Vera and again, quite literally, through the process he performs to transform Vicente into Vera and the other procedures he performs to reinforce her skin. Vera’s body is also juxtaposed with the paintings of figures in Robert’s house and the clay bodies Vera makes and decorates with her torn dresses. Yet Vera also subverts this male gaze by performing for it: she knows Robert watches her and Vera hopes this knowledge of Robert’s attraction towards her will help win her freedom. Vera also returns the gaze: she looks down the camera towards Robert forcing him to reflect upon his own act of looking. The male gaze is subverted again as it is Robert’s and Zeca’s mother who witnesses Vera’s rape on the TV screens.

We commented on the unusual structure of the house, where the majority of the film’s melodramatic moments takes place. The house’s geography is complicated and it remains unclear where the distinctive areas of the house exist in relation to each other (thus contributing to Vera’s hopelessness at achieving freedom on one occasion). There is also a strange mix of styles present in the home, with the cave-like place where Vicente is kept initially, combining with the traditional façade of the house (and rooms like the kitchen), which in turn contrast sharply with the clinical sight of the operating theatre. The film’s central debate of whether one is ‘at home’ in one’s own skin and ultimately defined by this outwardly appearance is thus mirrored by the house’s abnormal structure: it, too, is an ‘un-homely’ home.

skin i live in vicente and normaWe also discussed how the central event in the narrative – Norma’s rape – does not evoke the ‘melodramatic showdown’ one might expect from such a story. Indeed this part of the story is the most difficult to interpret, as Vicente expresses to Robert that “I don’t think I raped her [Norma]”. The scene depicting Vicente’s encounter with Norma is challenging: at first Norma seems to be engaged with Vicente’s attraction to her but, after the edit which takes us back into the house and to the wedding party, her participation in the liaison is no longer consensual. The scene is also difficult to evaluate because it is clearly portrayed as a subjective memory, as both Vera and Robert’s dreams take us into these flashbacks.skin i live in norma Leaving aside the question of whether such memories are to be considered reliable, the difficulty for interpretation and identification is pushed further as Vicente’s original role as the rapist and Robert as the doting and loving father is swiftly usurped by Vera’s depiction as the victim and Robert as the oppressor. The moral compass of the film is constantly misdirected and confused.

We concluded our discussion by talking about how successful and well received the film was on its release. This is in contrast to this week’s set reading from Film Quarterly, which was quite dismissive of the film’s representations of sex, sexuality, aesthetic qualities and apparent misogyny. We disagreed with these conclusions as we found the challenges posed by these questions an important part of the viewing experience for a film which does not offer any easy answers.

Many thanks to Kat, Keeley and Frances for jointly selecting such a fascinating film for us to view, and for providing the great introductions and summary. Thanks too to Rosa for the extra, inside, information on Almodovar.

Do, as always log in to comment, or email me on sp458@kent.ac.uk to add your thoughts.

Melodrama Screening and Discussion, 11th of December, Keynes Seminar Room 6, 4-7 pm

Posted by Sarah

All are welcome to attend the seventh of this term’s screening and discussion sessions which will take place on the 11th of December in Keynes Seminar Room 6, from 4pm to 7pm.

We will be screening a joint choice: The Skin I Live In (2011, Pedro Almodovar, Spain, 120 mins).

Kat has very kindly provided the following introduction:

skin i live in

 

Released in 2011, Pedro Almodovar’s The Skin I Live In, is an exploration of the nature of human identity. It visits most of the preoccupations of Almodovar’s work over the past thirty years, from maternal devotion through sexual identity to obsessional activity.

The film is based on the French novel, Mygale (published in this country as Tarantula), in which an eminent French plastic surgeon has a practice at a public hospital in Paris, a private clinic in Boulogne, a secret operating theatre in the basement of his suburban mansion, a beautiful, submissive partner called Eve whom he keeps under lock and key, and a teenage daughter in an asylum. Almodovar has relocated the narrative to Toledo, a city south of Madrid and played with the relationships. In the film, Antonio Banderas plays the part of plastic surgeon, Robert Ledgard, who lives a stylish life with a devoted housekeeper to look after his beautiful mysterious prisoner, whose name has been changed from Eve (from the novel) to the more ambiguous Vera. Robert’s principal public project, inspired by his late wife’s destruction in a motor accident, is the development of a new form of skin that will be sensitive to the touch but resistant to fire. However, he’s also involved in secret activities of a more dangerous nature. They’re to do with revenge at a personal level and, on a cosmic plane, with challenging the very character of human identity.

The film is rich, complex, and is a skilful piece of storytelling that reorganises time and, in characteristic Almodovar fashion, challenges our preconceptions about everyday life and personal conduct. Beyond that, I do not wish to give away any more plot spoilers for those who have not seen it!

The reason why I thought this would make an apt screening for the melodrama group is in how the film plays with conventions and plot structures associated with the Gothic melodrama. Indeed, the film critic for The Observer, Philip French, described the film as ‘a combination of dark thriller, gothic horror story and poetic myth’. There is much that can be discussed regarding gender, identity, melodrama and the Gothic in relation to The Skin I Live In.

Below is a link to an article, in which Paul Smith, Professor in Hispanic and Luso-Brazilian Literatures and Languages at CUNY, discusses the film with the editor of Film Quarterly, Rob White. Although the article isn’t overly warm towards the film, it does touch upon some of the more interesting themes and concerns of The Skin I Live In.

http://www.filmquarterly.org/2011/10/escape-artistry-debating-the-skin-i-live-in/

Do Join us, if you can, for Keeley’s introduction on the day and, of course the film itself!

Summary of Discussion on Coquette

Posted by Sarah

The discussion prompted by Coquette focused on several areas: the definition of melodrama, especially in relation to content vs form; the film’s old-fashioned feel; comparison of Norma’s punishment to other female characters at the time and earlier; Mary Pickford’s star entrance; Pickford’s star image – from the Girl with the Curls to the Woman Without Them; Hollywood’s focus on youth; modern actresses and image changes; Pickford’s performance.coquette poster

We began by relating the film to our previous experience of, and assumptions about, melodrama. The basic story has many melodramatic elements.  The central character is a young woman named Norma (played by Mary Pickford) whose reputation is at stake.  A misunderstanding leads to Norma’s lover Michael (played by Johnny Mack Brown) being shot by her father and a death-bed scene. This results in a murder trial where Norma attempts to save her father’s life by perjuring herself. She tries to convince the court that Michael raped her, therefore providing her father with a reason for his action.

Coquette generalHowever the storytelling is not very melodramatic. The film did not follow the theme of concealment and revelation we have noted in other melodramas. A key example of this is the fact that Norma told her brother, and the audience, of her intention to lie on the witness stand. This meant we were not left in suspense as to how she might react. In addition, while Norma and Michael’s separation is presumably meant to be very distressing to both of them, the film does not convey this strongly.  We also thought that Norma’s long-standing, and older, admirer Stanley (Matt Moore) might have played a larger part in the film, providing the third point of a melodramatic triangle. This was not the case.

The difference between the film’s content and its form (primarily its plotting–both overall and within scenes) is therefore important. Since the story has melodramatic elements but the plotting does not highlight this, might we consider the film to be intended as melodrama, but simply not very effective? Or does the lack of suspense in terms of concealment and revelation preclude us from considering it to be melodrama at all? Of course this assessment of ‘quality’ rests on our judgment today, and views at the time might well have been different.

Coquette was based on relatively recent (1927) play of the same name by George Abbot and Ann Preston Bridgers. The film’s contemporaneous (to its release) setting is foregrounded by long-held close-ups of invitations to dances in 1928. However, we thought the film seemed old-fashioned for its time. The ‘feel’ was compared to that of Pleasantville (1998) in which the two main characters from the 1990s find themselves inhabiting a chirpy 1950s America.

The film’s old-fashioned nature was especially seen in the treatment of the mainCoquette distress character. Norma’s ‘sins’ are small. She has spent the night, unchaperoned, with the man she loves in a cabin. Nothing happened between them. Yet she is severely punished: her lover is shot dead; she feels compelled to paint a very negative view of his character in order to help her father be acquitted of a murder charge; she witnesses her father’s suicide at his trial.

clara bowThe New Woman was already well established in Hollywood films by this time. Colleen Moore played the definitive flapper in Flaming Youth six years earlier, and Clara Bow appeared to have It in 1927. Compared to these, and others, and especially given the fact that Norma’s sins are fairly insignificant – she is a coquette, or a flirt after all, not a ‘bad’ woman or a prostitute – the film seems out of its time.

We connected this strongly to Mary Pickford’s star image. The film was presenting a ‘new’ Mary one who way ‘bobbed, audible and coquettish’ according to Photoplay in May 1929. We spoke at some length about Pickford’s star entrance. Norma is referred to, butCoquette dress not seen, for some time. Immediately before we see her she is being joshed by her brother Jimmy about spending too long in front of the mirror. We only hear her voice to begin with. This is frustrating on two counts – the quality of Pickford’s voice is less assured than those of the other actors (though there may also be some microphone issues) and our sight of her is delayed. When she does appear though, she is very striking. As well as the new hairstyle, Pickford is wearing a beautiful modern dress. While this is modest in some ways the flimsy material focuses attention on her legs.

 The way youth was used to ‘sell’ stars and films was seen in the Photoplay piece and has been the subject of academic work. (See Heather Addison. “” Must the Players Little MaryKeep Young?”: Early Hollywood’s Cult of Youth.” Cinema Journal 45.4 (2006): 3-25.) It was thought that this new image was not thoroughly modern as perhaps Pickford could not risk alienating her established fan base. Much of her previous appeal had been predicated upon recognition of her as ‘Little Mary’ or the ‘Girl with the Curls’.  This relies on a very different presentation of youth.  It is also at odds with the fact Pickford’s capability as a businesswoman (a co-founder of United Artists) and her private life – her happy marriage to Douglas Fairbanks – were continually dealt with in the press.

Gaylyn Studlar has written that Pickford appealed to the, in some ways already vanished, Victorian notion of childhood and its excessive sentimentality. (See Gaylyn  Studlar, “Oh,” Doll Divine”: Mary Pickford, Masquerade, and the Pedophilic Gaze.” Camera Obscura 16.3 (2001): 196-227.) As Studlar pondered the audience for Pickford’s silent films we were also curious as to the intended and actual audience for Coquette. The appeal to the modern seen in Photoplay’s focus on consumption was severely compromised by the film itself. Although Pickford was indeed ‘bobbed, audible and coquettish’ she did not seem young: Norma/Pickford was not seen engaging in the frantic dancing of the other youths in the film. The moralistic tone of the play – there is no happy ending which is unusual for other melodramas of this, and an earlier, period – seemed unlikely to sit well with those who had seen It and Flaming Youth.

lillian gishWe broadened out the discussion to some others of Pickford’s contemporaries. While Moore and Bow symbolised the new, Lillian Gish, like Pickford, was of the past. However Lillian Gish’s appeal, while also based on innocence, was not dependant on her occupying a child’s role. The playing of child roles seemed very particular to Pickford.  Gish was far more often a child-woman. As early as 1920 she was playing single mother in Way Down East.

Some modern actresses who have noticeably had a ‘statement’ haircut in order to break free from their earlier star images were also mentioned: Harry Potter’s Emma Watson and Miley ‘Hannah Montana’ Cyrus.  We also cited several actresses who, like the 37 year-old Pickford in Coquette, have played, or continue to play, younger than their actual age. These included Alyson Hannigan, Charisma Carpenter and Natalie Portman.

Coquette Pickford and BeaversThe change in Pickford’s hairstyle was clearly significant, yet the nod to the modern was not extended to the film’s treatment of her character’s morality and behaviour or indeed Pickford’s acting style. At times Norma seemed very young. She climbed onto the lap of the maid (Louise Beavers) to be comforted. Pickford’s acting was occasionally heavy handed. The moment Norma feels an excessive pain in her chest which she takes to correspond to Michael being shot was particularly memorable since Pickford clutches her chest with such violence. Norma was also, unsurprisingly, hysterical on learning of her lover’s death.

Instances of the overtly dramatic sat uncomfortably with some of the film’s, few, lighter moments. One of these seems to in itself be mocking, or at the very least drawing attention to, melodramatic performance.  Michael reacts to one situation with a moody and long-held stare. Norma/Pickford waits a little while, and then looks to the audience. The gaze then turns back to Michael with Norma/Pickford seeming to wonder at how Michael has managed to keep the pose for so long. Pickford’s performance within a performance is referenced throughout by one of her repeated gestures. After saying the word ‘adorable’ (whether to her admirer Stanley or her lover Michael) she places Coquette lip pointher finger to her lip in a coquettish way, prompting others to kiss her.  It is noticeable that when Norma/Pickford utters the word ‘adorable’ for the last time in the film, it is not accompanied by the gesture. The events Norma has been through have perhaps finally broken her meaning that any coquettish behaviour would be out of place.

Many thanks to Tamar for suggesting a film which provoked so much discussion.

Do, as ever, log in to comment, or email me on sp458@kent.ac.uk to add your thoughts.

Mike Kuchar Melodramas at the Tate Modern on 30th of November

Posted by Sarah

Keeley has very kindly emailed to let us know that the Tate Modern is screening a season of underground American filmmaker Mike Kuchar’s films. The third of these events, which takes place on the 30th of November, focuses on Melodramas and Teleplays. These include The Craven Sluck (1967), The Stranger in Apartment 9F (1998) and Madam Dante’s Inferno (1990). After this event the filmmaker will be giving a presentation.

tcsstill-2

The all-important link: http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/film/mike-kuchar-3-melodramas-and-teleplays

Many thanks to Keeley for the email!

Mary Pickford on Psychobitches

Posted by Sarah

Ahead of the screening of Coquette on Wednesday, I thought it might be interesting to consider the presentation of Mary Pickford on Psychobitches. In the Sky Arts comedy series Rebecca Front stars as a therapist helping famous, and infamous, women from history. Julia Davis as Pickford can be seen on youtbe: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlMQ0UT9UaU

Davis as Pickford

The clips comment effectively on Pickford’s star image, genre expectation and silent films. All in 2 and a half minutes!

 

psychobitches

Apologies, for the delay, but this also seems a good opportunity to congratulate Tamar for guessing the right answer to the Bette Davis and Joan Crawford Psychobitches Challenge. In the clip Mark Gatiss’ Crawford calls Frances Barber’s Davis by the single-syllabled ‘Bet’ rather than the double-syllabled ‘Bette’. Apparently, despite their feud, she would never have dreamed of doing this. Even to wind up Davis!

Well done too to Rosa for supllying another valid answer.

Many thanks to Lies and Ann-Marie for organising this and supplying the great prizes.