The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema (2006)
This is the full transcript of Sophie Fiennes's documentary 'The Pervert's Guide to Cinema' (2006), in which Žižek delivers a sustained psychoanalytic reading of cinema across roughly 150 minutes, analysing films by Hitchcock, Lynch, Tarkovsky, Chaplin, Kubrick, Haneke, Kieslowski, and many others. He argues that cinema is not an escape from reality but the medium through which we learn to desire; it stages the Real, fantasy, and the death drive with a literalness that everyday life suppresses. The talk moves through topics including the voice as autonomous partial object, the id-machine, the Freudian topology of Psycho's house, the enigma of feminine desire, the obscene superego, and the relationship between fantasy and sexual subjectivity, concluding that cinema shows us what is 'more real than reality itself'.
The ideas in it 26
in the order they first come up; click a row for what he does with the idea here
Stories he reaches for 7
Works invoked 41
People invoked 20
What it argues
Dialectical moves 15
Claims 25
Quotes 22
“cinema is the ultimate pervert art. it doesn't give you what you desire. it tells you how to desire.”Slavoj Žižek · cinema as pedagogy of desire
“i want a third pill… not the reality behind the illusion, but the reality in illusion itself.”Slavoj Žižek · against the Matrix's false choice between illusion and reality
“when this our proper dwelling within a symbolic space is disturbed, reality disintegrates.”Slavoj Žižek · symbolic order as condition of reality
“super ego is not an ethical agency. super ego is an obscene agency bombarding us with impossible orders, laughing at us when we cannot ever fulfil its demand.”Slavoj Žižek · superego as obscene not moral
“death drive is almost the opposite. death drive is the dimension of the undead — something which remains alive even after it is dead and it's in a way immortal in its deadness itself.”Slavoj Žižek · death drive redefined as undead insistence
“the only way for me to get rid of this autonomous partial object is to become this object.”Slavoj Žižek · identification with the symptom as the only exit
“we ourselves are the aliens controlling our bodies. humanity means the aliens are controlling our animal bodies.”Slavoj Žižek · the ego as alien force within the body
“desire is a wound of reality.”Slavoj Žižek · desire as distortion of reality
“why does the energy need the matrix? since i think that the energy we are talking about is libido — why does our libido need the virtual universe of fantasies? why can't we simply enjoy it directly?”Slavoj Žižek · libido's need for fantasmatic supplement
“fantasy realized is called nightmare.”Slavoj Žižek · the horror of wish fulfilment
“it starts with dreams are for those who cannot endure reality. it ends with reality is for those who are not strong enough to endure their dreams.”Slavoj Žižek · dream and reality exchange places in Lynch
“when fantasy disintegrates, you don't get reality. you get some nightmarish real, too traumatic to be experienced as ordinary reality.”Slavoj Žižek · the Real as what appears when fantasy collapses
“the only emotion which doesn't deceive is anxiety. all other emotions are fake.”Slavoj Žižek · Freudian primacy of anxiety
“music is here what according to marx religion is — a kind of opium for the people, opium which should put us asleep, put us into a kind of false beatitude which allows us to avoid the abyss of unbearable anxiety.”Slavoj Žižek · music as ideological opium
“our fundamental delusion today is not to believe in what is only a fiction… it's on the contrary, not to take fictions seriously enough.”Slavoj Žižek · ideology critique reversed
“we need the excuse of a fiction to stage what we truly are.”Slavoj Žižek · fiction as the site of truth
“in order to understand today's world we need cinema, literally. it's only in cinema that we get that crucial dimension which we are not ready to confront in our reality.”Slavoj Žižek · cinema as necessary epistemology
“if you are looking for what is in reality more real than reality itself, look into the cinematic fiction.”Slavoj Žižek · cinematic fiction as hyper-real
“for the male libidinal economy, to paraphrase a well-known old saying, the only good woman is a dead woman.”Slavoj Žižek · mortification as condition of male desire
“not only they are not afraid of it. they fully enjoy being it. they are truly fearless entities beyond life and death, gladly assuming their immortality — non-castrated life energy.”Slavoj Žižek · the obscene Lynchian paternal figure who is the phallus
“this is indicated in a very nice way in the scene towards the end of wild at heart where bobby peru is killed… when his head explodes, it's as if we see the head of the penis being torn apart.”Slavoj Žižek · the sacrificed phallus / obscene father
“the zone is ultimately the very whiteness of the cinematic screen.”Slavoj Žižek · Tarkovsky's zone as cinematic screen / pure surface of projection
Transcript 325 turns
the problem for us is not are our desires satisfied or not. the problem is how do we know what we desire? there is nothing. spontaneous, nothing natural about human desires. our desires are artificial. we have to be taught to desire. cinema is the ultimate pervert art. it doesn't give you what you desire. tells you how to desire.
i do like you. it just isn't good enough. oh. i forgot. your mother asked me up to supper.
okay. bring some ice cream with you, will you? sure, what kind you want? chocolate or vanilla? okay.
what we get in this wonderful clip from possessed? is commentary on the magic art of cinema within a movie. we have an ordinary working class girl living in a drab small provincial town. all of a sudden she finds herself in a situation where reality itself reproduces the magic cinematic experience. she approaches the rail. the train is passing and it is as if. what in reality is just a person standing near a slowly passing train. turns into. a viewer observing the magic of the screen.
have a drink. oh, don't go away. looking in. wrong way, get in and look out.
we get a very real ordinary scene. on the week! the heroine's inner space, as we, her fantasy space, is projected so that although all reality is simply there, the train the girl, part of reality in her perception and our viewers's perception is, as it were, elevated to the magic level, becomes the screen of her dreams. this is cinematic art at its purest.
this is your last chance. after this, there is no turning back. you take the blue pill. the story ends. you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. you take the red pill. you stay in wonderland. and i show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
but the choice between... the blue and the red pill is not really a choice between illusion and reality. of course, matrix is a machine for fictions, but these are fictions which already structure our reality. if you take away from our reality the symbolic fictions that regulate it, you lose reality itself. i want a third pill. so what is the third pill? definitely not. some kind of transcendental pill which enables a fake fast-food religious experience, but a pill that would enable me to perceive not the reality behind the illusion, but the. reality in illusion itself. if something gets too traumatic too violent, even too to filled in with enjoyment. shatters the coordinates of our reality, we have to fictionalize it. the first key to horror feelings is to say, let's imagine the same story but without the horror element. this gives us, i think, the background. we're in the middle of bodega bay. where the action of hitchcock's birds takes place. birds is a film about a young rich social. socialite girl from san francisco who falls in love with a guy. goes after him to bodega bay where she discovers that he lives with his mother.
of course, it's not my business, but when you bring a girl like that,
darling.
yes.
i think i can handle melanie daniels by myself.
well? as long as you know what you want, mitch.
i know exactly what i want. then there is the standard edible imbroglio of incestuous tension between mother and son, the son's split between his possessive mother and the intrusive girl.
what's the matter with them? what's the matter with all the birds? would'd you want this coffee?
in on the table, honey.
hurry up with yours, mate. i'm sure ms. daniels wants to be on her way.
i think you ought to stay the night, melanie. we have an extra room upstairs and everything.
the big question about the birds of course is the stupid obvious one. why do the birds attack?
m.
it is not enough to say that the birds are part of the natural setup of reality. it is rather as if a foreign dimension intr that literally tears apart reality. we humans are not naturally born into reality. in order for us to act as normal people who interact with other people who live in a space of social reality, many things should happen, like we should be properly installed within the symbolic order and so on. when this... our proper dwelling within a symbolic space is disturbed, reality disintegrates. so to propose the psychanalytic formula. the violent attacks of the birds are obviously explosive outbursts of maternal superego, of the maternal figure preventing, trying to prevent sexual relationship. so the birds are raw incestuous energy. what am i doing? i'm sorry, i'm sorry, now i got it. my god, i'm thinking like melanie. you know what i'm thinking now? i want to fuck mitch. that's what she was thinking. no oh sorry, sorry, sorry. i my god, i got this spontaneous confusion of directions.
mrs. bates.
we are in the cellar of the mother's house from psycho. what's so interesting is that the very disposition of mother's house events took place. in it at three levels. first floor. ground floor. basement. it is as if they reproduce the three levels of human subjectivity. ground floor is ego. norman behaves there as a normal son. whatever remains of his normal ego taking over. up there, it's the superego. maternal superego because the dead mother is basically a figure of superego.
no mother. i'm gonna to bring something up here.
i am sorry, boy, but you do manage to look ludicrous when you give me orders.
please, mother.
no! i will not hide in the fruit. voil. ha you think i'm fruity, huh?
end. down. in the cellar, it's the id. the reservoir of this illicit. drives. and we can then interpret. the event in the middle of the film. when norman. carries the mother, or as we learn at the end, mother's mummy. corpse, skeleton from the first floor to the cellar.
don't do it again, not ever again. now get out! i told you to get out, moy.
i'll carry you mother. it's as if he is transposing her in his own mind as a psychic agency from. super ego. to id.
put me down. put me down. i walk.
of course, the lesson of it is the old lesson elaborated already by freud that superego and id are deeply connected. the mother complains first as a figure of authority, how can you be doing this to me? aren't you ashamed? this is a fruit seller. and then... mother immediately turns into obscenity do you think i'm fruity super ego is not an ethical agency. super ego is an obscene agency bombarding us with impossible orders, laughing at us when of course we cannot ever. fulfill its demand. the more we obey it, the more it makes us guilty. there is always some. aspect of an obscene madman in the agency of the superego. we often find references to psychoanalysis embodied in the very relations between persons. for example, the three marx brothers groucho trico. harpo. it's clear. gracho, the most popular one with his nervous hyperactivity is superego.
well, that covers a lot of ground. say you cover a lot of ground yourself. you better beat it. i hear they're going to tear you down and put up an office building where you're standing. you can leave in a taxi. if you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a hut. if that's too soon, you can leave in a minute and a half. you know you haven't stopped talking since i came here..
the rational guy, egotistic, calculating all the time, is ego.
youini, you're charged with high treason, and if found guilty, you'll be shot. i object. oh, you object? on what grounds? i couldn't think of anything else to say.
objection sustained. and the weirdest of them all, harpo, the mute guy, he doesn't talk. freud said that drives are silent. he doesn't talk. he, of course, is id. who are you guys?
what are you doing in my room? he's my partner, but he not speak. he's dumb and a deaf.
the it in all its radical ambiguity. namely, what is so weird about the khpo character is that he is childishly innocent, just striving for pleasure, likes children, plays with children and so on. at the same time possessed by some kind of primordial evil. aggressive all the time. and this unique combination of utter corruption and innocence is what the eat is about.
what do? i. in. i break.
yeah. i don know. dr. klein.
yes,'m dr. klein dr..
things have gotten worse since i phoned you. i think you better go upstairs.
is she having spasms again?
yeah, but they've gotten violent.
the medication.
voice is not an organic part of a human body. it's coming from somewhere in between your body.
i! do.
whenever we talk to another person, there is always this minimum of ventriloquist effect, as if some foreign power took possession.
the power over of powers to harm. your mother sucks cocks and hell cares us, you faithless slime.
remember that at the beginning of the film, this was... a beautiful young girl. how did she become a monster that we see? by being possessed? but who possessed her? a voice, a voice in its obscene dimensions. number.
. see the cross of the lord. become your hostile power.
the first big film about this traumatic dimension of the voice, the voice which freely floats around and it's a traumatic presence feared, the ultimate object of anxiety which distorts reality, was in 1931, in germany. fritz lang's the testament of dr. mabuse.
sie und diese frau. wirden diesen raum. leben. nicht mehr verlassen. i!
we do not see mabuse till the end of the film. she is just a voice.
sie werden diesen raum lebend, nicht mehr verlassen. yes.
the. god forever after. amen.
lord. so the problem is, which is why we have the two priests at her side, how to get rid of this intruder, of this alien intruder. it is as if we are expecting the famous scene from ridley scott's alien to repeat itself.
i! i'm i'm...
as if we just wait for some terrifying alien evil looking small animal to jump out. there is a fundamental imbalance, gap. between. our psychic energy called by. freud, libido, this endless undead energy which persists beyond life and death and... the poor. finite, mortal reality of our bodies. this is not just the pathology of... being possessed by ghosts. the lesson that we should learn in that. the movies try to avoid is that we ourselves are the aliens controlling our bodies. humanity means the aliens are controlling our animal bodies. our! ego, our psychic agency, is an alien force distorting, controlling our body. nobody was as fully aware of the properly traumatic dimension of the human voice. the human voice not as the sublime ethereal medium for expressing the depth of human subjectivity, but the human voice as a foreign intruder. nobody was more aware of this. than charlie chaplin.
hey, das strft mich hilfenensekt! der wiener schnitzeln mit der lage erden und das schauut! hey fl der! in! und! hey! play! mit!
yeah.
chaplin himself plays in the film two persons. the good small jewish barber. and his evil double.
she!
h!
hinkel. dictator. hitler, of course.
come on! know why you? oh! sc. look! oh, they've my finger!
the jewish barber, the tramp figure, is, of course, the figure of silent cinema. silent figures are basically like figures in the cartoon. they don't know death. they don't know sexuality even. they don't know suffering. they just go on in their oral egotistic striving like cats and mouse in a cartoon. you cut them into pieces, they're reconstituted. there is no finitude, no mortality here. there is evil. but a kind of a naive good- evil. you are just egotistic, you want to eat, you want to hit the other, but there is no guilt proper. what we get with sound. is. interiority depth guilt. cpability. in other words, the complex ed universe.
here you are, get a hinkle button, get a hinkle button, a fine photo with a foo on each and every button. do.
.
yeah. you.
the problem of the film. it's not only the political problem how to get rid of totalitarianism of its terrible seductive power, but it's also this more formal problem, how to get rid of this terrifying dimension of the voice.
ichucken. str! i! oh!
or since we cannot simply get rid of it, how to domesticate it, how to transform this voice nonetheless into the means of expressing humanity, love and so on. german police grabs the poor tramp thinking this is hitler and he has to address a large gathering.
i'm sorry. i don't want to be an emperor. that's not my business. i don't want to rule or conquer anyone. i should like to help everyone if possible. jew, gentile. black man, white. we all want to help one another. human beings are like that.
there, of course, he delivers his big speech about the need of love, understanding between people, but there is a catch. even a double catch.
soldiers, in the name of democracy, let us all unite!
people applaud exactly in the same way as they were applauding hitler. the music. that accompanies this great humanist finale. the overture to wagner's opera, lohengrin, is the same music as the one we hear when hitler is daydreaming about conquering the entire world and where he has a balloon in the shape of the globe. the music is the same. this can be read as the ultimate redemption of music. that the same music which served evil purposes can be redeemed to serve the good, or it can be read, and i think it should be read, in a much more ambiguous way, that with music we cannot ever be sure. insofar as it externalizes. our inner. passion, music is potentially always a threat.
de amor! tu amor todo mi corazón.
there is a short scene in. david lynch's mulholland drive, which takes place in the theater where we are now, where behind the microphone a woman is singing, then out of exhaustion or whatever, she drops down. surprisingly, the singing goes on. immediately afterwards, it is explained. it was a playback. but for that... a aple of seconds, when we are confused, we confront this nightmarish dimension of an autonomous partial object. like in the well-known adventure of cheshire cat from alice in wonderland, where the cat disappears, the smile remains.
oh. you may have noticed. that i'm not. all there. myself.
and the m out.
uh. the fascinating thing about partial objects, in the sense of organs without bodies, is that date. embody what freud called death drive. here we have to be very careful. death drive is not it's kind of a buddhist striving for annihilation. i want to find eternal peace. i want no, death drive is almost the opposite. death drive is the dimension of what in the stephen king-like horror fiction is called the dimension of the undead, of living dead, of something which remains alive even after it is dead and it's in a way immortal in its deadness itself, goes on insists, you cannot destroy it. the more you cut it, the more it insists it goes on. this dimension of kind of diabolical undeadness is what partial objects are about.
thank.
the nicest example here for me i think is michael powell's red shoes about a ballerina.
i.
her passion for dancing is materialized in her shoes taking over. the shoes are literally the undead object.
i. qu-ce que tu ? oh. . you to. i! woo!
perhaps the ultimate bodily part which fits this role of the autonomous partial object is the fist or rather the hand
al!
this hand raising up. that's the whole point of the film. it's not simply something foreign to him. it's the very core of his personality out there. security?
i am jack's smirking revenge. what the hell are you doing?
that hurt. far from standing for some kind of perverted masochism or reactionary fantasy of violence, this seen is... deeply liberating. i'm here, as it were, on the side of the fist. i think this is what liberation means. in order to attack the enemy, you first have to... beat the shit out of yourself to get rid in yourself to death. which in yourself attaches you to the leader, to the conditions of slavery and so on and so on.
no, please stop! ! t!
what are you doing? oh god, no, please. no! for some reason i thought of my first fight. with tyler.
there is always this conflict between me and my double.
motherther! fuck! me in the ear? well, jesus, i'm sorry. ow why! by the ear, man. fucked it up. oh, that was perfect.
it is as if the double embodies myself. but without the castrated dimension of myself. there is an episode in the wonderful british horror classic dead of night. anyway, we wouldn't leave.
me'll go.
i knew you'd come back. in which michael redgrave plays a ventriloquist who gets jealous of his puppet.
i don't get. i was only joking. you't know me. bye! wow. hi! i!
yeah! ah you! officer, quickly! open stop! i. quick.
and in an outburst of violence destroys. the puppet breaks down then in the very last scene of the film, we see him in the hospital slowly regaining consciousness, coming back to himself. first, he's... voice is stuck in the throat then with great difficulty finally he is able to talk. but he talks. with the distorted voice of the dummy.
i hello. say old basket. i've been waiting for you.
and the lesson is clear. the only way for me to get rid of this autonomous partial object is to become this object.
anytime you are
dict.
okay, i'm ready. yeah.
so that i don't confuse them. where is becky? mikey is here, he is here. okay. any
you shout.
i'm standing on the very balcony where the, the traumatic murder scene occurs in conversation, the murder of the husband observed through the stained glass in front of me by the private detective, gene hackman. the detective is in the nearby room. significantly, just before he sees the murder, he observes the balcony through a crack in the glass wall. whenever we have this famous proverbial piping tom scene of somebody observing traumatic event through a crack, it's never as if we are dealing with two parts on both sides of the wall of the same reality. before seeing anything or... imagining to see something. he tries to listen, he behaves as an eavesdropper. with all his private detective gadgets. what does this make him? potentially, at least. it makes him into a fantasized, imagined entity.
so. i can't stand it. he't stand it anymore. i make no, don't.
he doesn't fantasize the scene of the murder, he fantasizes himself as a witness to the murder.
i love you.
what he sees on that blurt? window glass which effectively functions as a kind of elementary screen. cinematic screen even that should be perceived as a desperate attempt to visualize hallucinate even the bodily material support of what he hears.
hello, baby. shut up! it's daddy, you shthead. where's my bourbon?
dorothy's apartment is one of those hellish places which abound in david lynch's films, places where all moral or social inhibitions seem to be suspended, where everything is possible. the lowest masochistic sex, obscenities, the deepest level of our desires that we are not even ready to admit to ourselves, we are confronted with them in such places.
spread your legs. winder. i should.
and you fucking look at me.
from what perspective? should we observe this scene? imagine the scene as that of a small child. hidden in a closet or behind a door.
ramy.
witnessing the parental intercourse. he doesn't yet know what sexuality is, how we do it, all he knows it what he hears, this strange deep breathing sound, and then he tries to imagine what goes on. at the very beginning of blue velvet, we see jeffrey's father having a heart attack, falling down. we have the eclipse of the normal paternal authority.
hey that.
oh, mommy, mommy, mommy.
mommy loves you. yeah.
baby wants to fuck.
it is as if jeffrey fantasizes this wild parental couple of dorothy and frank as kind of a phantasmatic supplement to the lack of the real paternal authority.
order! you ready fuck you fuckers, fucker! you fucker! don't you fucking look at me!
frank not only obviously acts, but even... overacts it is as if he's ridiculously excessive gesticulating shouting and so on. are here. to cover up something. the point is, of course, the elementary one, to convince the invisible observer that father is potent, to cover up father's impotence. so the second way to read the scene would have been as a spectacle, a ridiculously violent spectacle set up by the father to convince the son of his power, of his overpotency.
oh! oh! ugh.
the third way. would have been to focus on dorothy herself. many feminists, of course, emphasized the brutality against women in this scene, the abuse, how the dorothy character is abused. there is obviously this dimension in it. but i think one should risk a more shocking and obverse interpretation what if? the central, as it were, problem of this entire scene is... dorothy's passivity.
don't you fucking look at me!
so what if what frank is doing is a kind of a desperate, ridiculous, but nonetheless effective attempt of trying to help dorothy to awaken her out of her lethargy, to bring her into life.
. ah! whoo!
ph! h! wh. so if... frank is anybody's. fantasy, maybe she is dorothy's fantasy. there is kind of a strange mutual interlocking of fantasies. you stay alive, baby. yeah. it. not only ambiguity, but oscillation between three focal points. this, i think, is what accounts for the strange reverberations of this scene. this brings us to our third and maybe crucial example. what is for me the most beautiful shot in the entire vertigo. the shot in which we see scotty in a of a peeping tom observing through a crack it is as if madeleine is really there in common reality while scotty is peeping at her from some mysterious interspace. from some obscure netherworld. this is the location of the imagined, fantasized gaze. gaze is that obscure point. the blind spot. from which the object looked upon returns the gaze. after suspecting that a murder is taking place in a nearby hotel room, gene hackman, playing the private detective, enters this room. and inspect the toilet. the moment here approaches the toilet in the bathroom, it is clear that we are in hitchcock territory. it is clear that some kind of intense, implicit dialogue with psycho is going on. in a very violent gesture, as if adopting the role of norman bates' mother, the murdering psycho, he opens up the curtain, inspects it in detail, looking for traces of blood there. even inspecting the gap, the hole at the bottom of the sink. which is precisely another of these focal objects because in psycho the whole through fade out, the hole is morphed into the eye, returning the gaze. we say the eye is the window of the soul. but what if there is no soul behind the eye? what if the eye is a crack through which we can perceive just the abyss of a netherworld. when we look through these cracks. we see the dark other side. where... hidden forces. run the show. it is as if... gene hackman establishes no, we are nonetheless not in psycho let's return to my first object of fascination, toilet bowl, he flashes it and then the terrible thing happens.
thank.
in hour most elementary experience. when we flush the toilet. excrements simply disappear out of our reality into another space which we phenomenologically perceive as a kind of a netherworld, another reality, chaotic, primordial reality, and the ultimate horror of course is if the flashing doesn't work if... objects return if remainders, exal remainders return from that dimension. the bathroom. hitchcock is all the time playing with this threshold.
well they. cleaned all this up now. big difference. you should have seen the blood. the whole place was well, it's too horrible to describe. great.
the most effective for me and even the most touching scene of entire psycho is after the shower murder when norman b tries to clean the bathroom. i remember clearly when in my adolescence i first saw the film, how deeply i was impressed by it. not only by. the length of the scene it goes on almost for 10 minutes details of cleansing and so on and so on but also by the care by the care, meticulousness how it is done and also by our spectators identification with it. i think that this tells us a lot about the satisfaction of work, of a job well done, which is not so much to construct something new, but maybe human work at its most elementary, work, as it were, at a zero level. the work of... cleaning the traces of a stain.
.
the work of erasing the stains. keeping at bay this chaotic netherworld. which threatens to explode anytime time. and engulf us. i think this is... the fine sentiment that hitchcock's films evoke. it's not simply that something horrible happens in reality. something worse can happen which undermines the very fabric of what we experience as reality. i think it's very important how the first attack of the birds occurs in the film. when a fantasy object, something imagined, an object from inner space, enters our ordinary reality, the texture of reality is twisted, distorted. this is how desire inscribes itself into reality, by distorting it. desire is a wound of reality. the art of cinema consists in arousing desire two. play with desire. but at the same time, keeping it... at the safe distance. domesticating it. rendering it palpable. when we spectators are sitting in a movie theater looking at the screen, you remember at the very beginning before the picture is on, it's a black dark screen and then light thrown on, are we basically not staring into a toilet bowl and waiting for things to reappear out of the toilet? and art. is the entire magic. off. spectacle showed on the screen not a kind of a deceptive lure trying to. conceal the fact that we are basically watching shit, as it were.
there was a young lady of onga. who had an affair with a conger. they said, how does it feel to sleep with an eel? well, she said, just like a man. only longer.
usually people writ. the lesson of freudian psychoanalysis as if the secret meaning of everything is sexuality. but this is not what freud wants to say. i think freud wants to say the exact opposite. it's not that everything is a metaphor for sexuality, that whatever we are doing, we are always thinking about that. the third question is, but what are we thinking when we are doing that? in sexuality, it's never only me and my partner or more partners, whatever you are doing. it's always, there has to be always some phantasmatic element. there has to be some third imagined element which... makes... me. makes it possible for me, which enables me to engage in sexuality. if i may be a little bit impertinent and relate to an unfortunate experience probably known to most of us, how, it happens that while one is engaged in sexual activity, all of a sudden one feels stupid, one loses contact with it, as if, my god, what am i doing here? doing these stupid repetitive movements and so on and so on. nothing changes in reality. in this strange moment where i, as it were, disconnect, it's just that i lose the phantasmatic support. there is an irresistible... power of fascination, at least for me. in this terrifying scene when neo. awakens from his sleep within the matrix and becomes aware what he really is in that fetal container floating in liquid connected to virtual reality where you are reduced to a totally passive object with your energy being sucked. out of you. so why does the matrix need our energy. i think the proper way to ask this question it to turn it around. not why does the matrix need the energy, but why does the energy need the matrix? that is to say, since i think that the energy we are talking about is libido, is our pleasure. why does our libido need? the virtual universe of fantasies. why can't we simply enjoy it directly? a sexual partner and so on. that's the fundamental question. why do we need this virtual supplement? our libido needs an illusion in order to sustain itself.
that. entonces.
one of the most interesting motives in science fiction is that of the id machine, an object which has the magic capacity of directly materializing, realizing in front of us our innermost dreams, desires, even guilt feelings. there is a long tradition of this in science fiction films, but of course, the film about id machine is andrei tarkovsky's solaris. solaris is the story of kelvin, a psychologist who is sent by a rocket to a spaceship circulating around solaris, a newly discovered planet. strange things are reported from the spaceship, all the scientists there are going crazy, and then kelvin discovers what is going on there. this planet has the magic ability to directly realize your deepest traumas, dreams, fears, desires. the innermost of your inner space. the hero of the film find one morning. his deceased wife who made suicide years ago. so he realizes not so much his desire as his guilt feeling. when the hero is confronted with the spectral clone, as it were, of his deceased wife, although he appears to be deeply sympathetic, spiritual, reflecting and so on, his basic problem is how to get rid of her.
gr!
what makes solaris so touching is that, at least. potentially, it confronts us with this tragic subjective position of the woman. his wife who is aware that. she has no. consistency no full being of her own
eu se ben is. l. he a cruel gluge. y.
for example, she has gaps in her memory because she knows only what she knows that she knows.
at least was nash.
¿ card chile.
aha-huh.
she is just his dream realized. end. her true love for him is. expressed in her desperate attempts to erase herself, to swallow poison or whatever just to clear the space because she guesses that he wants this.
tr really.
k. i'm. desc cresc. it's relatively easy to get rid of a real. person you can abandon him or her, kill him or her, whatever. but a ghost, a spectral presence is much more difficult to get rid of. it sticks to you as a kind of a shadowy presence.
t break !
no, j. y.
¡.!
what we get here is the lowest male mythology, this idea that woman doesn't exist on her own, that a woman is merely a man's dream realized, or even, as radical anti-feminists claim, the man's guilt. realized women exist because male desire got impure. if man cleanses his desire. gets rid of dirty material. fantasies. woman ceases to exist. at the end of the film we get a kind of a holy communion, a reconciliation of him not with his wife, but with his father. did you see hitchcock's vertigo?
sorry, i don't understand.
sorry, hitchcock's vertigo, the film, alfred hitchcock. i think it happened here, you know. i don't know the scene. okay often things begin as a fake, inauthentic, artificial, but you get caught into your own game. and that is the true tragedy of vertigo. it's a story about two people who, each in his or her own way get caught into their own game of appearances. for both of them, for madeleine and for scotty, appearances win over reality. what is the story of vertigo? it's a story about a retired policeman who has a pathological fear of heights because of an incident in his career and then an old friend hires him to follow his beautiful wife played by kim novak, the wife mysteriously possessed by the ghost of a past deceased spanish beauty carlota valdes. the two fall in love. the wife kills. herself. the first part of vertigo with madeleine's suicide is not as shattering as it. could have been, because it's really a terrifying loss, but in this very loss, the ideal survives. the idea of the faithful woman possesses you totally. what? ultimately. d. image, fascinating image of the fatal woman stands for his death. the fascination of beauty is always the veil which covers up a nightmare, like the idea of a fascinating creature. but if you come too close to her you see, shit. decay, you see worms crawling everywhere. the ultimate abyss is not a physical abyss, but the abyss of the death of another person. it's what philosophers describe as the night of the world. like when you see another person into his or her eyes, you see the abyss. that's the true spiral which is drawing us into. scotty alone, broken down. cannot forget her, wanders around the city looking for a woman, a similar woman, something like the deceased woman, discovers an ordinary, rather vulgar, common girl. the denouement of the story, of course, is along the lines of the marx brothers joke. this man looks like an idiot, acts like an idiot. this shouldn't deceive you, this man is an idiot. the newly found woman looks like madeleine, acts like madeleine, the fatal beauty. we discover she is but late. what we learn. is's that. scotty's friend. who hired scotty. also hired this woman, judy, to impersonate madeleine in a devilish plot. to kill the real madeleine, his wife, and get her fortune.
we could just... see a lot of each other.
why? so i remind you of. not very complimentary.
the profile shot in vertigo is perhaps the key shot of the entire film. we have there madeleine's, or rather judy's identity in all its tragic tension. it provides the dark background for the fascinating other profile of madeleine in ernie's restaurant. scott, ich. too ashamed, afraid to look at her directly. it is as if what he sees is the stuff of his dreams, more real in a way for him than the reality of the woman behind his. back.
not complimentary either.
i just want to be with you as much as i can, judy.
when we see a face, it's basically always. the half of it. a subject is a partial something. face, something we see. behind it, there is a void. a nothingness. and of course, we spontaneously tend to fill in that nothingness with our fantasies about the wealth of human personality and so on and so on. to see what is... lacking in reality to see it as that. there you see subjectivity. to confront subjectivity means to confront femininity. woman is the subject. masculinity is a fake. masculinity is an escape from the most radical nightmareish dimension of subjectivity.
scotty, what are you doing? try to
buy your should.
i love the second one she wore. and this one, it's beautiful.
no, no,'re none of them right.
oh, i think i know the suit you mean. we had it some time ago. let me go and see. we may still have that model.
thank you.
you're looking for the suit that she wore for me. you want me to be dressed like her.
judy, i just want you to look nice. i know the kind of a suit that look well on you.
no, i won't do it.
judy, it can't make that much difference to you. i just want to see what
no, i want any clothes. i don't want anything. i want to get out of here.
judy, do this for me.
here we are.
yes, that's it.
i thought so.
when judy, refashioned as madeleine, steps out of the door, it's like fantasy realized. and of course, we have a name, a perfect name for fantasy realized. it's called... nightmare. fantasy realized. what does this mean? of course, it is always sustained by an extreme violence. the violence in this case of scotty's refashioning, brutal refashioning of judy, real common girl into madeleine. it's truly a process of mortification, which also is the mortification of woman's desire. as if in order to have her, to desire her, to have sexual intercourse with her, with the woman, scotty has to mortify her, to change her into a dead woman. it's as if, again. for, the male. libidinal economy. to paraphrase a well-known old saying, the only good woman is a dead woman. scotty is not really fascinated by her, but by the entire scene, the staging. he's looking around, checking up are the phantasmatic coordinates really here. at that point, when the reality fully fits fantasy, scotty is finally able to realize the long postponeded sexual intercourse. so. the result of this violence is a perfect. coordination. between fantasy and reality, a kind of direct short circuit. in lynch's films, darkness is really dark. light is really unbearable, blinding light. fire really hurts. it's so hot. at those moments of sensual over-intensity. it is as if events on screen itself threatens to overflow the screen and to grab us into it, to reach towards us. it's again as if the fantasy space. the fictional narrative space gets too intense and reaches out towards us, spectators, so that we lose our safe distance. this is the proper tension of the lynchian universe. the beauty of lynch, if you look closely, it's never clear. is it really the brutal real out there which disturbs us or is it our fantasy?
she wore blue velvet.
wow.
bluer than velvet was the night. softer than satin was the light. from the start.
she the very beginning of david lrich's blue velvet, we see an idyllic american small town.
i. warmer than may her tender sighs, love was on.
can can be more normal than father of the family in front of a white clean house watering the lawn?
i the rapture.
but all of a sudden. father has a heart seizure. falls down to the grass. and then, instead of showing the family confused, calling for ambulance, whatever, lynch does something typically lynchian. the camera moves extremely close to the grass, even penetrates the grass, and we see what is the real of this idyllic green lawn. we should not forget this. how? this happens precisely when father has a seizure, that is to say when, symbolically, the paternal authority breaks down.
i'll send you straight to hell, fucker!
with you.
in dreams. i talk. to you. in dreams, your mind. .
the logic here is strictly freudian. that is to say, we escape into dream. to avoid a deadlock. in our real life. but then what we encounter in the dream is even more horrible so that at the end we literally escape from the dream back into reality. it starts with dreams are for those who cannot endure, who are not strong enough for reality. it ends with reality is for those who are not strong enough to endure, to confront their dreams. lost highway and mulholland drive are two versions of the same film. what makes both films, especially lost highway, so interesting is how they positive the two dimensions, reality and fantasy side by side. horizontally as it were.
must be from a real estate agent.
what we get in lost highway is the drab, grey, upper middle class suburban reality. hier. married too. patricia arquette. obviously terrorized by the enigma of his wife who doesn't respond properly to his advances. when they have sexual intercourse, he miserably fails. what he gets from her is a kind of a patronizing pat on the shoulder. total humiliation. after killing her, in an act of frustration, the hero enters his fantasy space. where? he, as it were, reinvents not only himself, but his entire social environs.
captain this is some spooky shit we got here.
in what? in a kind of a... universe which we usually found in film noir.
this magic moment. so div. friend and so new. was like any other.
the hero's wife, who is a brunette, becomes a blonde. in reality, she is restrained. here she praises the hero within the fantasy space all the time, his sexual capacities and so on and so on.
the your hours.
so it seems as if... the dream is the realization of what he was looking for. in reality, the obstacle was inherent. their sexual liaison simply didn't function. within the fantasy space, the obstacle is externalized. yeah.
beautiful day.
mr. eddy is the master of. patricia arquette. within the fantasy space, he is the obstacle to sexual intercourse.
i ever found out. somebody was making out with her. i'd take this and i'd shove it so far up his ass it would come out of his mouth.
the properly uncanny moments are those when the second shift occurs, when the fantasy space, the dreamscape, as it were, is already disintegrating. but we are not yet back into reality. this intermediate space neither fantasy space nor reality. this space of a kind of a primordial violence, dispersion, ontological confusion. this is the most subversive moment, the true horror of these films. towards the end of this fantasy episode. when we get the sexual act, there. the woman also. aoids. the hero.
yo. never.
yeah. me.
whispering, you will never have me? and at that dramatic point, we are thrown back to reality when the hero encounters exactly the same deadlock. what the film truly is about, its focal point, it's not the hero, it's of course the enigma of feminine desire.
i'm involved in a mystery. i'm in the middle. of a mystery. and it's all.
you like mysteries that much?
yeah. you're a mystery.
thank you. the enigma of feminine subjectivity in david ltry's films. it's a gap between cause and effect. you do something to a woman but you never know what the reaction will be. my relationship towards j. inherently lim i think they are disgusting just imagine aren't this some kind of how do you call. vagina dentata, dental vaginainas threatening to swallow you. i think that the flowers are something inherently disgusting. i mean, are people aware what a horrible thing these flowers are? i mean? basically it's an open invitation to all the insects and fish come and screw me, you know i mean it i think that flowers should be forbidden to children.
so hope i'm for us. .
tout.
hina. al. w some pourique. was an ord answer. i will spring up the my cap i. but morgan, we at any rate. alles alles long,.
we men. at least in our standard phagocentric mood of sexuality. even when we are doing it with the real woman, we are effectively doing it with our fantasy. woman is reduced to a masturbatory prop. woman arouses us insofar as she enters our fantasy frame. with women, it's different. the true is is not in doing it but in telling about it afterwards. of course women do enjoy sex immediately but i hope i'm permitted as a man to propose a daring hypothesis that maybe while they are doing it, they already enact or incorporate this minimal narrative distance so that they are already observing themselves and narrativizing it. there is in ingmar bergman's persona a wonderful scene where bibi andersson tells to mute liv ullmann a story about small orgy on a beach which took place years ago. this scene is so erotic precisely because bergman successfully resisted the temptation of a flashback. no flashback just words. probably one of the most erotic scenes in the entire history of cinema.
k. s. i'm and airbes san oregonan. i, me beg your hand,. and pizza so pizza, aber mehr. optika freund zum vorragungen. who bad, have fulfilled this. andund from from start. o that som drens, man. was logo. we all you have to to someone's like forinner. can du verst store there?
although sexuality seems to be about bodies, it's not really about bodies. it is how bodily activity is reported in works. the ultimate sexual seduction resides in words.
i can be whatever you want me to be. now you want me to romance you take you to a classy restaurant, no problem. you want me to... be a best friend and fuck you. treat you good. like a pussy. no problem. ain't much i haven't done. the only thing i want to do is beat you up.
the strength. tension and at the same time interconnection between reality and fantasy. we can get it at its purest in the strange case of pornography. pornography is and it is a deeply conservative genre. it's not a genre where everything is permitted. it's a genre based on a fundamental prohibition. we cross one threshold. you can see everything, close-ups and so on, but the price you pay for it is that. the narrative. which justifies sexual activity should not be taken seriously. the screenwriters for pornography cannot be so stupid. you know, these vulgar narratives of a housewife alone at home, a plumber comes, fixes the hole, then the housewife turns to him, sorry, but i have another hole to be fixed, can you do it or whatever. obviously, there is some kind of a censorship here. you have either an emotionally engaging film, but then you should stop. just before showing it all, sexual act, or you can see it all, but you are not allowed to... than to be emotionally seriously engaged. so that's the tragedy of pornography. it tries to be as realistic as possible, but it has to maintain the minimum of phantasmatic support.
i first saw him that morning in the lobby. he was checking into the hotel and he was following the bellboy with his luggage. to the end. he. he glanced at me as he walked past, just a glance. nothing more. but i could hardly.
mm. eyes wide shut is a film which has an incredibly precise lesson about fantasy. she tells him not about herself effectively cheating him, but about fantasizing about cheating him with some naval officer they met in a hotel and so on and so on. the entire film is his desperate attempt to catch up with her fantasy, which ends in a failure. many people don't like in that mysterious rich people's castle where they meet for their orgies, the big orgy. they complain this orgy is aseptic, totally non. attractive without erotic tension, but i think that's the point. this. utter impotence of male fantasizing.
no. i.
the film is the story of how. the male fantasy cannot catch up with the feminine fantasy of how there is too much of desire in feminine fantasy and how this is the threat to male identity. where do we find this aspect of invertigo? isn't it that invertigo, on the contrary, all the activity is on the side of scotti. but i think that precisely because of this, his activity is extremely brutal, mortifying. he has totally to erase. the woman as a desiring entity. that's for him the condition to desire. let's annihilate the woman. let's... mortify her so that my fantasy alone rules the other solution is, of course, the masochist solution, which is... let me maintain the appearance of the woman, domina s, the boss, i accept my inferior role, but secretly i'm the master because i write the very scenario of my inferiority.
i do. love you. and you know. there is something very important. that we need to do as soon as possible.
what.
ah.
's if our inner psychic space is too wild and sometimes we have to make love not to get the real thing, but to escape from the real, from the excessive real that we encounter in our fantasizing. but you know what? also we have, don't forget, from wild at heart, bobby peru the rage. she fuck.
no, i get!
i! she. say fuck me. and then i'll leave. they. see. che. s.
bobby peru enters the room where the young girl played by laura dern is resting and slowly he terrorizes her.
someday, honey, i will. but i gotta get going.
same. don't cry.
bobby peru, as it were, changes the register. all of a sudden, he adopts a nice, polite, smiling face and says, oh, thanks for the offer, but i've got to go now, maybe another day. just arousing the fantasy and then rejecting the act. results in utter psychological devastation. it is a case of a mental rape which can be worse than physical rape.
thank you.
the point is... the fragile balance between reality and fantasy dimension in our sexual activity. michael haneke's piano teacher. is the story of an impossible love affair between a middle-aged, deeply traumatized woman and her young student. she is in a way a person who is not yet sexually subjectized. she lacks the phantasmatic coordinates of her desire. this accounts for a couple of very strange scenes in the film, like when she goes to a pornographic store and then watches in a closed small room a scene from a hardcore film. the way she watches it, it's not to get aroused, but she watches it as a pupil in a school. she simply watches it to get the coordinates of desiring, to learn how to do it, how to get excited.
ensuite, enlève le bâillon, s'il te plaît. et assis-toi sur ma figure. et donne-moi des coups de poing dans l'estomac. pour m'obliger à t'enfoncer ma langue dans le derrière.
the of fantasy in psychoanalysis is very ambiguous. on the one hand, we have the pacifying aspect of fantasy. piano teacher plays with the opposite aspect of fantasy. ah. fantasy is the explosion of wild, unbearable desires. what we found in the middle of the film is probably, arguably the most depressive sexual act in the entire history of cinema. as if to punish her for disclosing the fantasy in her letter to him, he literally in. her fantasy in the way he makes love to her, which of course means that fantasy is lost for her. when fantasy disintegrates, you don't get reality. you get some nightmarish real, too traumatic to be experienced as ordinary reality. that would be another definition of nightmare. hell is here. paradise, at least this perverse paradise, is hell.
i.
one cannot hear. just throw out the dirty water, all these excessive perverse fantasies and so on, and just keep the healthy, clean baby, normal, straight or even homosexual, whatever, but some kind of normal, politically correct sex. you cannot do that. what if we throw out the baby and keep just the dirty water and put it as a problem how to deal with dirty water and put some order in the dirty water of fantasies? this is, i think, precisely what happens, for example, in kieslowski's blue.
pendant le... est-ce que vous étiez consciente ? j'ai la pénible tâche. vousé. votre mari. a perdu la vie dans l'accident. non, vous n'étiez pas conscient tout le temps. oui, votre fille aussi.
you can organize, people do it, your life in mourning the lost object. julie in blue discovers that her husband wasn't what she thought he was, that he was treating her, that he had a mistress who is pregnant. this is the most terrifying loss where all the coordinates of your reality disintegrate. the problem is how to... reconstitute. yourself. in a wonderful short scene, the heroine of blue, after returning home, finds there on the floor a group of newly born mice crawling around their mother. this scene terrifies her. she is too excessively exposed to life in its brutal meaninglessness. what she is able to do at the end is to acquire a proper distance towards reality. this is what happens in the famous circular shot where we pass from julie's face while she is making love. this magical suspension of temporal and spatial limitations, this free floating in a fantasy space, far from distancing us from reality. enables us to approach. reality. she is putting together the coordinates which enable her to experience her reality as meaningful again. as if the lesson is not only for men but also for women that you can sustain sexual intercourse, sexual relationship only through the support of fantasy.
i! i'm!
.
is! i.
i! the problem, of course, is this, fantasy reconstituted. is this the ultimate horizon of our experience? the function of music here is precisely that of a fetish, of some fascinating presence whose function it is to conceal the abyss of... anxiety. music is here what according to marx religion is a kind of opium for the people opium which should as it were put us asleep. put us into a kind of a false beatitude which allows us to avoid the abyss of unbearable anxiety. we see julie crying, but through a glass. this glass stands for, i think, fantasy reconstituted. these are, i'm tempted to say, the tears of happiness. i can mourn now because it no longer immediately affects me. blue proposes... this mystical communion, reconstituted fantasy is sustaining our relation to the world, but the price we pay is death. some radically authentic moment of accepting the anxiety at the very foundation of human condition is lost there. if anything, anxiety at the vocal level is... silence. silence, it's a silent scream. in hitchcock's the birds, when the mother, of course, who but the mother, finds the neighbor dead, his eyes picked out by the birds. she shouts, but the shout literally remains stuck. inter. throat. and. to return from cinema to so-called real life, the ultimate lesson of psychoanalysis is that exactly the same goes for our real life experience. the emotions as such are deceiving. there are no specifically fake emotions because, as freud puts it, literally, the only emotion which doesn't deceive is anxiety. all other emotions are fake. so, of course, the problem here is are we? able to. encounter in cinema d emotion of anxiety or is cinema as such a fake. cinema is the art of appearances. tells us something about reality itself. it tells us something about how reality constitutes itself.
not that way!
ripplepleley. ripleley, come on. we we've got no time for sightseeing here. ripplepleley, don't.
there is an old gnostic theory that our world was not perfectly created, that the god who created our world was an idiot who bungled the job so that our world is a half-finished creation. there are voids, openings, gaps. it's not fully real, fully constituted. in the wonderful scene in the last installment of the alien saga, alien resurrection, when ripley, the cloned ripley, enters a mysterious room she encounters the previous failed version of herself. of cloning herself. just a horrified creature, a small fetus-like entity, then more developed forms. finally, a creature which almost looks like her, but her limbs are like that of the monster. this means that all the time our previous alternate embodiments. what we might have been but are not. that these alternate versions of ourselves are haunting us. that's the. ontological. view of reality that we get here. as if it's an unfinished universe. this is, i think, a very modern feeling. it is true, such ontology of unfinished reality that cinema became a truly modern art. all modern films are ultimately films about the possibility or impossibility to make a film.
this is the sad tale of the township of dogville. dogville was in the rocky mountains in the us of a. up here, where the road came to its definitive end near the entrance to the old abandoned silver mine. the residents of dogville were good, honest folks, and they liked their township.
with von trier, it's not only the problem of belief in the sense of do peoples generally still believe today, the place of religion today and so on. it's also reflectively or allegorically the question of believing in cinema itself. how to make today people still believe in the magic of cinema? in dogville, all of it is staged on a set, okay, this is often the case in cinema, but here the set is seen as the set. the action takes place in dogville, a small town, but there are no houses, there are just lines on the floor signaling that this is the house, this is the street. the mysterious thing is that this does not prevent our identification. if anything, it makes us even more thrown into the tensions of the inner life.
have you seen grace? this is my place. is she busy? not anymore. go right in.
it's not that naive belief is undermined, deconstructed through irony. fontrir wants to be serious with the magic. irony is put into service to make us believe.
yet again, grace had made a miraculous escape from her pursuers with the aid of the people of dogville. everyone had covered up for her, including chuck. who had to admit that it was probably tom's hat he'd mistakenly considered so suspicious.
the mystery is that even if we know that it's only stage, that it's a fiction, it still fascinates us. that's the fundamental magic of it. you are... witness a certain seductive scene, then you are shown that it's just a fake stage machinery behind, but you are still fascinated by it. illusion persists. there is something real in illusion, more real than in the reality behind it.
the of the great and powerful oz. i said come back tomorrow! if you were really great and powerful, you'd keep your promises. do you presume to criticize the great oz? you ungrateful creatures, think yourselves lucky that i'm giving you audience tomorrow instead of 20 years from now. oh! thank. the great oz has spoken. oh. pay to that man behind the curtain. the spoken who are you? oh.
i. who of we can learn from a film like wizard of oz is how it is not enough, the logic of demystification is not enough. it's not enough to say, okay, it's just a big show spectacle to impress the people. what is behind is just a modest old guy and so on and so on. it is that rather in a way, there is more truth in this appearance. appearance has an effectivity, a truth of its own.
what about the heart that you promised tinman and the courage that you promised cowardly lion? i'm scarecrow. why anybody can have a brain? that's a very mediocre commodity. every pusillanimous creature that crawls on the earth or slinks through slimy seas has a brain. back where i come from, we have universities, seats of great learning, where men go to become great thinkers. and when they come out, they think deep thoughts, and with no more brains than you have. but they have one thing you haven't got, a diploma. therefore. by virtue of the authority vested in me by the univers comatum e pluribus unum, i hereby confer upon you the honorary degree of thd. thd? that's doctor of thinkology. sum of the square roots of any two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side.
oh, ge!
rapture.
i got a brain. and that's the paradox of cinema the paradox of belief we don't simply believe or do not believe we always believe in a kind of a conditional mode i know very well it's a fake but nonetheless i let myself be emotionally affected.
how do you do?
mr. carl lindley feels it would be a little
kind present this picture without just a word of friendly
we are about to unfold the story of frankenstein. a man of science. who sought to create a man after his own image. without reckoning. upon god.
somebody tells us. you have to experience horror. we do it.
so if any of you feel that you do not care to subject your nerves to such a strain, now is your chance to... waitais? we've warned you.
ladies and gentlemen. young and old. this may seem an unusual procedurecedures. speaking to you before the picture begins. but we have an unusual subject.
behind, not red, this is hollywood, but black curtain, cecil deille himself appears, giving us a lesson of how the story of ten commandments and moses has great relevance today where we are fighting communist totalitarian danger and so on and so on, giving us all the clues.
amen, the property of the state. or are they free souls under god? this same battle. continues throughout the world. today.
this hidden master. who controls the event can also be defined as ideology embodied in the sense of the space which organizes our desires. and your name.
what the fuck is your name?
in david lynch's lost highway, we have the mystery man, who stands for the very cinematographer, even director. imagine somebody who has a direct access to your inner life. to your innermost fantasies, to what even you don't want to know about yourself.
we've met before, haven't we? i don't think so. where was it you think we met?
at your house, don't you remember? the best way to imagine what mr man is, is to imagine somebody who doesn't want anything from us.
what do you mean you're where? right now. at your house. that's fucking crazy, man.
callney. that's the true horror of this mystery man, not any evil demoniac intentions and so on and so on. just the fact that when he is in front of you, he, as it were, sees through you.
i told you i was here. and you do that? ask me. inside my house. you invited me. it is
it's my custom to go where i'm not wanted. it's like the court in kafka's novels where the court or the law only comes when you ask for it.
oh! now why would
that. most peculiar. hitchcock was obsessed with this topic of manipulating emotions. his dream was even that once in the future we would no longer have to shoot narratives. our brains will be directly connected to some machine and the director would only have to press different buttons there and the appropriate emotions will be awakened in our mind.
they're coming! you're coming!
what have directors like hitchcock, tarkovsky, kieslowski, lynch have in common? a certain autonomy of cinematic form. forum is not here simply to express articulate content, it has a message of its own. in hitchcock, we have the motive of a person hanging from an abyss by the hand of another person. the first example, saboteur. rear window. then we're having to catch a thief.. 10 in north by northwest. then, of course, in vertigo. so we see here the same visual motif repeating itself. i think it's wrong to look for a common deeper meaning some french theorists. claimed that what we are dealing here with is the motive of fall and redemption. i think this is already saying too much. i think that what we are dealing with is with a kind of a cinematic materialism that beneath the level of meaning, spiritual meaning, but also simple narrative meaning. we get a more elementary level of forms themselves communicating with each other, interacting, reverberating, echoing, morphing, transforming one into the other. and it is this background, this, as it were, background of proto-reality, a real which is more dense, more fundamental than the narrative reality. the story that we observe. it is this that provides the proper density of the cinematic experience. is the gigantic tree where in vertigo, madeleine and scotty get together, almost embrace, where their erotic tension becomes unbearable. what is this tree? i think it's another in the series of hitchcockian big things like the mount rushmore statues or take another example like moby dick. this tree is not simply a natural object, it is, within our mental space, what in psychoanalysis is called the thing. it's. effectively as if this tree in its very extra large distortion. embodies something that comes out of our inner space. libido, the excessive energy of our mind. so here i think... we can see how... films and philosophy. are coming together, how great cinematographers really enable us to think in visual terms. after the birds attack the city, there is a fire which breaks out at the gasoline station where a guy throws a match onto the gasoline.
hey! out!
the first part of this short scene is the standard one. we get the standard exchange of shots of the fire and shots of the person, melanie in this case, who looks at it. then something strange happens. we cut to way above the city. we see the entire town. we automatically take this shot as kind of standard establishing shot. like after details which perplex you, which prevent you from getting a clear orientation, you need a shot which like enables you some kind of a cognitive mapping that you know what's going on. but then precisely following that logic of the thing from inner space which emerges from within you, first we hear these ominous sounds, which are sounds of the birds. then one bird enters, another bird enters. the shot which was taken is a neutral. god's view shot all of a sudden changes into an evil gaze. the gaze of the very birds attacking. and we are thrown into that position. and again, we can use here the birds as the final installment and read. backwards other classical hitchcock scenes in the same way. isn't exactly the same thing happening in what i consider the ultimate scene in psycho, the second murder, the murder of the detective arbogast. hitchcock manipulates here in a very refined way the logic of so-called fetish is disavowal, the logic of i know very well that. we know very well some things but we don't really believe in them. so although we know they will happen, we are no less surprised when they happen. in this case, everything points towards the murder and nonetheless, when it happens, the surprise is if anything stronger. it begins in a standard hitchcockian way. he looks up the stairs. this exchange creates the hitchcockian tension between the subjects, luke, and the stairs themselves or rather the void on the top of the stairs returning the gaze, emanating some kind of a weird unfathomable threat. the camera then provides kind of a geometrically clear guts point of view shot image of the entire shin. it is as if here we pass from god as neutral creator to god in his unbearable divine rage. this murderer is us, for us an unfathomable monster. we don't know. who he is, but because we are forced to assume the murderer's position in a way we don't know who we are. as if we discover a terrifying dimension in ourselves. as if we are forced to act as the doll, as the tool of another evil. divinity's will. it's not as classical metaphysics thinks. we are too terrified to accept the fact that we are mortal beings. we would like to be immortal. no. the truly horrible thing is to be immortal. immortality is the true nightmare. not to death. we. can you hear me? we should... remember the exact moment when the normal everyday person, okay not quite everyday, but ordinary person of anakin skywalker changes into darth vader. this scene when the emperor's doctors are reconstituting him after heavy wounds into darth vader, that these scenes are intercut with the scenes of princess padme, anakin's wife, giving birth.
ec, i do. hello.
so it is as if we are witnessing the transformation of anakin into father. but what kind of father? a monster of a father who doesn't want to be dead. this deep breathing is the sound of the father. the freudian primordial father, this obscene overpotent father, the father who doesn't want to die. this, i think, is for all of us the most... obscene threat that we witness. we don't want our fathers alive. we want them dead. the ultimate. object of anxiety is a living father. this brings us to what we should really be attentive about in david lynch's film, namely what is to be taken seriously and not seriously in his films.
hey, we love beer. he love it. here's the bear. yearsars to been. mr. b. be polite.
here ben. frank is one of these terrifying, ridiculously obscene paternal figures. apart from franklin blue velvet, we have baron harkonnen in dune, we have willem dafoe in wild at heart, we have mr. eddy in lost highway.
don't you fuckingate! oh! tell them you won't tailgate. ah! i won't ever do. i many fucking car! it takes to stop a car at 35 miles an hour. take fucking car! that's 106 fucking feet miss. if i had have stopped suddenly, you would have hit me! i want you to get a fucking driver's manual and i want you to study that motherfucker! i want to spit once. on your head. just some spittle in your face.
what a lecture. but i think that this very appearance of ridiculously violent comedy is deceiving. i think that these ridiculous paternal figures are the ethical focus. the topic of practically all david lynch's films.
let's fuck! i fuck moves! exactly.
a normal paternal authority is an ordinary man who as it were, wears phallus as an insignia. he has something which provides his symbolic authority. this is, in psychanalytic theory, phallus. you are not. phallus, you possess phallus. phallus is as it were something attached to you, like the king's crown is his phallus. something you put on and this gives you authority so that when you talk, it's not simply you as a common person who is talking, it's symbolic authority itself, the law, the state talking through you. so these excessively ridiculous paternal figures. it's not simply that they possess phos, that they have phos as the insignia of their authority. in a way, they immediately are. thisus this is for, if they still exist, a normal male subject. this is the most terrorizing experience you can imagine to directly being the thing itself, to assume that i am a phallus. and the provocative greatness of these lan obscene paternal figures is that not only they don't have any anxiety, not only they are not afraid of it. they fully enjoy being it. they are truly fearless entities beyond life and death, gladly assuming as it were their immortality. der... non-castrated life energy.
okay.
this is indicated in a very nice way in the scene towards the end of wild at card where bobby peru is killed.
stop your sons the bitches! this is the police!
he accepts the mortal danger he is in with kind of exuberant vitality and it's truly that when his head explodes, it's as if we see the head of the penis being torn apart.
six. poor best.
and then at the end, these figures are sacrificed.
oh.
it's all over, jeffrey.
thank.
i'm. .
thank.
joseph stalin's favorite cinematic genre were musicals. not only hollywood musicals, but also soviet musicals. there was a whole series of so-called kolkhoz musicals. why we should find this strange stalin who personifies communist austerity, terror and musicals? the answer again is the psychoanalytic notion of superego. superego is not only excessive terror, unconditional injunction, demand of utter sacrifice, but at the same time obscenity laughter. and it is sergei eisenstein's genius to guess at this link.
thank.
in his last film, which is a coded portrait of the stalin era, even the terrible part2, which because of all this was immediately prohibited. in the scene, unique scene towards the end of the film, we see the tsar ivan. throwing a party, amusing himself with his so-called oprichniki. his private guard, who were used to torture and kill his enemies, his, if you want, kgb secret police, are seen performing a musical. an obscene musical which tells precisely the story about killing the rich boyars, ivan's main enemies.
i!
so terror itself is staged as a musical.
i!
now, what has all this to do with the reality of political terror? isn't this just art, imagination? no, not only were the... political show trials in moscow in the mid and late 1930s. theatrical performances, we should not forget this, they were well staged, rehearsed and so on. even more, there is... horrible as it may sound, something comical about them. the horror was so rootless that the victims, those who had to confess and demand death penalty for themselves and so on, were deprived of the minimum of their dignity so that they behaved as puppets. they engaged in dialogues which really sound like out of alice in wonderland. they behaved as persons from a cartoon. i!
public enemy number one. you're on trial today for the crimes that you've committed. we're gonna prove you're guilty! just try and get her acquitted.
in the mid-30s, walt disney studios produced an unbelievable cartoon called pluto's judgment day.
get up.
in which the dog, well-known pluto, falls asleep and in his sleep is persecuted by, haunted by the dream of cats who were all in the past his victims molested by him, dragging him to the court where a proper, truly stalinist political trial is in process against him.
we've seen and heard enough. jury, do your duty. i still my!
we trying to defend the guilty. he's guilty. he's guilty! g-u-y, l-t-y, guilty, guilty, guilty-y!
the law is not only severe, ruthless. blind. at the same time, it mocks us. there is an obscene pleasure in practicing the law. our fundamental delusion today is not to believe. in what is only a fiction, to take fictions too seriously. it's on the contrary. not to take fictions seriously enough. you think it's just the game, it's reality. it's more real than it appears to you. for example, people who play video games. they adopt a screen persona of a sadist, rapist, whatever. the idea is, in reality i'm a weak person. so in order to to supplement my real life weakness i adopt their a image of a strong, sexually promiscuous person and so on and so on. but... so this would be the naive reading. i want to appear stronger, more active, because in real life i'm a weak person. but what if we read it in the opposite way? that this strong, brutal, rapist, whatever identity is my true self in the sense that this is the psychic truth of myself and that in real life, because of social constraints and so on, i am not able to enact it. so that precisely because i think it's only a game game. it's only a persona, a self-image i adopt in virtual space, i can be there. much more. truthful. i can enact their an identity which is much closer to my true self. we need the excuse of a fiction to stage what we truly are. stalker is a film about a zone, a prohibited space where there are debris, reminders of aliens visiting us. and stalkers are people who specialize in smuggling foreigners who want to visit into this space where you get very magical objects. but the main among them is the room in the middle of this space where it is claimed your desires will be realized.
das now with certza. i'm indulgence because well. what must w me? stay in the parochchia. but the summer was amendment. was. w. st. explplan. v som isabeth. some is. samuel buister né.
the contrast between solaris and stalker is clear. in solaris, we get id machine as an object which realizes your nightmares, desires, fears, even before you ask for it, as it were. in stalker, it's the opposite, a zone where your're... desires, deepest wishes get realized on condition that you are able to formulate them, which of course you are never able, which is why everybody fails once you get there in the center of the zone.
t. das gear. d.. t.. h shall we be right, re-sh. i brad st sam new project. how's that cheer. we just this vai time have it. k, you to with.'s... voyager boy.
tarkovsky's solution to this tension is that of religious obscurantism. the way out of this deadlock is a gesture of self-sacrifice. his last two films, nostalgia and sacrifice, both end up with some suicidal gesture of the hero.
ichi. yeah. dos mo. .
but i don't think this is what makes tarkovsky interesting. what makes him interesting is the very form of his films. tarkovsky uses as this material element of pre-narrative density, time itself. all of a sudden, we are made to feel this inertia, drabness. of time. time is not just a neutral light medium within which things happen, we feel the density of time itself. things that we see are more markers of time. he treats even humans in this way. if we look at the unique face of stalker himself, it's a face of somebody exposed to too much radiation and as it were, rotting, falling apart alive. it is this disintegration of the very material texture of reality which provides the spiritual depths. tarkovskyian's subjects, when they pray, they don't look up, they look down, they even sometimes, as in starker, put their head directly onto the earth. here i think tarkovsky affects us at a level which is much deeper, much more crucial for our experience than all the standard spiritual motives of elevating ourselves above material reality and so on. there is nothing specific about the zone. it's purely a place where a certain limit is set. you set a limit, you put a certain zone of limit and although things remain exactly the way they were, it's perceived as another place. precisely as the place onto which you can project your beliefs. your fears, things from your inner space. in other words, the zone is ultimately the very whiteness of the cinematic screen. chaplin's city lights is one of those masterpieces which are really too sophisticated for the sophisticated. it's a deceptively simple movie. when we are enraptured by it, we tend to miss its complexity and extreme finesse. h already the first scene of the movie provides the coordinates. it's kind of a microcosm of chaplin's entire art. what's the source of chaplin's comic genius? what's the archetypal comic situation in chaplin's films? it's being mistaken for somebody or functioning as a disturbing spot. it's a disturbing stain. he distorts the vision. so, he wants to. he raised himself to get out of the picture. or people don't even note him, take note of him, so he wants to be noted. or if they perceive him, he is misperceived, identified for what he is not. the tramp ich. wrongly identified by a beautiful blind girl who is selling flowers on a street corner. as a millionaire. he accepts the game. helps her even steals money to pay for her operation to restore her sight then after he serves the punishment and returns he tries to find her. and i think that this is the metaphor of our predicament. all too often, when we love somebody, we don't accept him or her as what the person effectively is. we accept him or her insofar as this person fits the coordinates of our fantasy. we misidentify, wrongly identify him or her, which is why when we discover that we were wrong, love can quickly turn into violence. there is nothing... more dangerous more little for the loved person than to be loved as it were for not what he or she is but for fitting the ideal. in this case, love is always mortifying love. here it's not only the trem s. the figure within the film's narrative, exposing himself to his beloved girl, is at the same time chaplin as actor-director. exposing himself to us, the public. i am shameless, i'm offering myself to you, but at the same time, i'm afraid. the true genius of... chaplin. resides in the way he was able to stake this psychological moment of recognition. at the level of form. music. visual aspect and at the same time at the level of acting. when the two hands meet, the girl finally recognizes him for what he is. this moment is always extremely dangerous, pathetic. the beloved falls out of the frame of the idealized coordinates, finally there exposed in his psychological nakedness. here i am is what i really am. and i don't think we have to read it as a happy ending. we don't know what will happen. we have the letters, the end, the black screen, but the singing goes on. as if the emotion is now too strong. it. spills over the very frame. in order to understand. today's world. we need cinema, literally. it's only in cinema that we get that crucial dimension which we are not ready to confront in our reality. if you are looking for what is in reality more real. then reality itself. look into the cinematic fiction.