Suchergebnisse

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.

For Freud, famously, the feminine was a dark continent, or a riddle without an answer. This understanding concerns man's relationship to the question of 'woman' but femininity is also a matter of sexuality and gender and therefore of identity and experience. Drawing together leading academics, including film and literary scholars, clinicians and artists from diverse backgrounds, Femininity and Psychoanalysis: Cinema, Culture, Theory speaks to the continued relevance of psychoanalytic understanding in a social and political landscape where ideas of gender and sexuality are undergoing profound changes. This transdisciplinary collection crosses boundaries between clinical and psychological discourse and arts and humanities fields to approach the topic of femininity from a variety of psychoanalytic perspectives. From object relations, to Lacan, to queer theory, the essays here revisit and rethink the debates over what the feminine might be. The volume presents a major new work by leading feminist film scholar, Elizabeth Cowie, in which she presents a first intervention on the topic of film and the feminine for over 20 years, as well as a key essay by the prominent artist and psychoanalyst, Bracha Ettinger. Written by an international selection of contributors, this collection is an indispensable tool for film and literary scholars engaged with psychoanalysts and anybody interested in different approaches to the question of the feminine.

Because mainstream cinema is largely driven by major industries as opposed to individuals, the experience of film has often been tied to Marxist notions of production and hegemony. During the Korean silent film era, a time of rapid modernization, social hierarchies were arguably much more complex than they are today, due in part to rapid industrialization, the growing presence of the Japanese colonizers, and the traditional class distinctions Koreans continued to uphold. As part of an extensive and stringent cultural policy, the Japanese government-general controlled the selection of movies, their content, and the conditions under which they were shown; and yet the majority of the movies showed that Europe and the US comprised modern, "high" cultures worthy of emulation. With reference to the applicability of Gramsci's concept of cultural hegemony in the context of the Korean silent film era, it is important, therefore, to consider the various notions of hierarchy and cultural supremacy. Although this study considers the applicability of Gramsci's concept in this particular context, its primary aim-and as such another step towards a better understanding of the positions of power in Korea under colonial rule-is to understand how the Korean working-class experience of cinema differed from that of other classes.

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.

A Note on Translations -- Acknowledgements -- Contents -- List of Figures -- Chapter 1: Introduction: Koreans-in-Japan On-Screen -- A Zainichi Century -- Zainichi as Post-Colonial Denizenship -- A Prehistory of Zainichi Cinema -- Zainichi as the Demand for Representation -- Curating the Zainichi Film -- The Crossover Film and the Dispersed Text -- Riding the Korean Wave -- A 'Post-Zainichi' Moment? -- 'Is It Possible to Say "Zainichi Cinema"?' -- Approaches to Zainichi Cinema -- The Continuity of Affect -- Notes -- Works Cited -- Chapter 2: 1968/2004: Bridging Imjin River