Suchergebnisse

All this – all the meanness and agony without endI sitting look out uponSee, hear and am silent.Walt Whitman, 'I Sit and Look'(Genius, 2018). Kurdish people constitute a significant part of the Turkish society for ages with some cultural and linguistic differences. This article focuses on the symbolic representation of Kurds in Turkish cinema through a close reading of the movie Sarmaşık (Ivy) in order to reveal how and at what limits the movie touches upon different forms of verbal and sound control imposed over them. Mainstream media portrays Kurds speaking Turkish with a heavy and funny accent. This tradition has changed by independent movies and at least they become visible in different types of silence. As a movie, one of the themes Sarmaşık discusses is the silence of Kurds and the role of discrimination process again by using and recreating the concrete silence. On the other hand this movie reveals how this silence provoke anxiety of majority towards minority identities, especially towards Kurds in last decades. The movie also stimulates a very important reality that losing a useful and functional part of a society is a severe lost that most people are not even aware of, and that they notice it in fear and with sorrow only after losing it.

The histories of New Zealand and Australian film production, distribution and exhibition have been characterized by significant exchanges in terms of culture, technology, creative personnel and policy approaches. Despite forming a persistent characteristic of the film industries of both countries, these connections have so far been either ignored or under-examined. This article investigates the technological, industrial, economic and cultural factors that influenced the relationship between Australian and New Zealand filmmaking during the early period of cinema until the 1930s. During this period, film production and distribution in New Zealand and Australia was conceived as an Australasian initiative characterized by both extensive labour mobility and an integrated film market. Early Australasian filmmakers moved seamlessly across the Tasman, producing films both in Australia and in New Zealand and contributing to both national cinematic traditions. This article argues that to fully grasp the histories of Australian and New Zealand film, it is essential to consider the contribution that these Australasian filmmakers made to the cultural, technological and industrial development of both national cinemas.

This article aims to address the ways in which working-class and lower-middle-class British women used silent-era fan magazines as a space for articulating their role within the development of a female film culture. The article focuses on letter pages that formed a key site for female contribution to British fan magazines across the silent era. In contributing to these pages, women found a space to debate and discuss the appeal and significance of particular female representations within film culture. Using detailed archival research tracing the content of a specific magazine, Picturegoer, across a 15-year period (1913–28), the article will show the dominance of particular types of female representation in both fan and "official" magazine discourses, analyzing the ways in which British women used these images to work through national tensions regarding modern femininity and traditional ideas of female propriety and restraint.

This article examines what I call a "system of cooperation" (K. hyŏp'ŏp , J. kyōgyō , [inline-graphic xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink" xlink:href="01i" /]) in the colonial Korean film industry from 1923, when silent films appeared, to the late 1930s, when colonial cinema was restructured within an imperial wartime system. In other words, this article examines the interworking of colonial Korean and imperial Japanese cinema from Yun Hae-dong's "colonial modern" perspective in order to go beyond the long established lens on colonial Korean film and film historiography that merely focused on the contributions of colonial Korean filmmakers. Here the author rather focuses on the cooperation or collaboration between Japan and Korea: Japanese directors and cinematographers working in Korea, Korean filmmakers with experience in the Japanese apprenticeship system, and filmmakers working together and independently during the silent film era. During the transition from the silent to the early talkie eras, second-generation filmmakers, especially those who trained in film studios in Japan, were significant. They dreamed of the corporatization of the colonial Korean film industry and took the lead in coproductions between Japanese film companies and their colonial Korean counterparts. Korean filmmakers were not unilaterally suppressed by imperial Japan, nor did they independently operate within the Korean film industry during the colonial period. The Japanese in colonial Korea did not take the lead in forming the colonial Korean film scene, either. The core formation of colonial Korean / Korean film was a process of Korean and Japanese filmmakers in competition and negotiation with one another within a complex film sphere launched with Japanese capital and technology.

The article re-examines the problem of collective responsibility for state-sponsored violence, taking the latest Argentine dictatorship (1976–1983) as a case study, a country that has also elaborated a proper theoretical frame to research the subject. Here I propose to think the issue of society's implication in past violence in terms of the categories of desires of repression and micro-fascism, rather than the classical, Enlighted and heroic concepts of responsibility and resistance. To that end, the article analyses two very recent films of the Argentine cinema: The long night of Francisco Sanctis1 and Red.2 Both films address the situation of the ordinary people under systemic violence, exemplifying how societal desires and micro-fascist attitudes work to stabilise a repressive regime. The films' focus on the desires of repression and micro-fascisms, I argue, draws attention the small fears, anxieties, resentments, and jealousies that constitute a society and represent the violent regimes' conditions of possibility. I suggest the films were read less as films about the abuses of the past and more as productions that illuminate the elements of the past that made possible the resurgence of repressive discourses and neoliberal ideologies in the present.

Pickowicz reviews the book 'Cinema and Urban Culture in Shanghai, 1922-1943' edited by Yingjin Zhang.