Gender in Film

Over the past several decades, scholarship has come to recognise the unexpected significance of horror cinema ventures as both culturally and politically relevant. One of Canada's greatest horror film successes was Vincenzo Natali's 1997 psychological thriller Cube that metaphorically explores the suffocating nature of vocational social relations under the conditions of a patriarchal military-industrial capitalism. So innovative was its premise that US interests quickly acquired the rights to produce and distribute Cube 2: Hypercube (2002) and Cube Zero (2004), but they were just as quick to reformulate the most subversive critique of the original film. Two decades later, in 2021, Japanese producers released a remake of the original film (which was so popular there), although it also re-coded the thematic critique, just as the American sequels had done. With this group of films across three national production traditions arises an opportunity to "detect shifts in the ideological constellation", as Slavoj Žižek has argued, by "compar[ing] consecutive remakes of the same story" (2011, p. 61). Following primarily Herbert Marcuse's understanding of political repressive tolerance, this article demonstrates the way in which constructions of cultural identity are negotiated across national traditions in the age of globalisation. Cube and its follow-ups demonstrate the nationalistinflected limits of critical expression in the way that each subsequent film attempts to re-focus and re-code the horrors of the narrative machine in order to assert their own nationalist sensibilities threatened by the cultural levelling effect of globalisation in an age of transnational cinema distribution.

The release of Todd Phillips’ Joker in 2019, while generally met with rave critical reviews from more progressively-minded cinema scholars, was met with media reception that was more mixed. From rhetoric diminishing the narrative to “the back-story that nobody wanted,” to more dire accusations of the narrative glorifying the most violent consequences of mental health problems, the media seemed baffled by a film about an infamous DC Comics villain in an idiom of social realism that did not satisfy the established conventions of such films.  But it is this very response that speaks to the larger ways in which the character of “the Joker” has worked as a convenient receptacle for the vilification or trivialization of progressive anarchist philosophies, even from the ostensible neo-Marxist left. The project of this paper is to demonstrate the ways in which media interests at the levels of cinematic production through to their journalistic reception work to control and marginalize certain progressive ideologies that run counter to their interests, in this particular case by deploying widespread stereotypes of mental illness and instability that map neatly, in the arena of normative ideology, onto the image of the insane clown (always an “anarchist”). It is also, more specifically, to demonstrate the ways in which progressive anarchist philosophy remains an ideological scapegoat for even ostensibly left-inflected political stances.

This essay analyses Zack Snyder’s 300 (2006) as a cultural text that constructs and critiques hypermasculinity. Drawing on theorists such as Neale (1983), Jeffords (1994), and Connell (1995), the paper explores how the film uses the Spartan male body, stylised violence, and homosocial bonds to project an idealised version of warrior masculinity. The Spartans’ muscular physiques, exaggerated through slow motion and CGI, are framed as symbols of strength and sacrifice, while also reflecting cultural pressures to achieve unattainable standards. Violence is shown not only as a tactic of war but as a performance of identity, echoing Reagan-era action films that equated masculinity with aggression and patriotic duty. At the same time, the exclusion of “non-ideal” bodies and the feminisation of Persian adversaries expose the narrow limits of hegemonic masculinity. The essay argues that 300 both glorifies and undermines the ideals it presents, revealing the fragility beneath the fantasy of absolute male control. By pushing the spectacle of masculinity to extremes, the film highlights contemporary anxieties about gender, power, and cultural change.

This paper examines the use of neon lighting in contemporary Gothic cinema, proposing the definition of a new film subgenre: "neon-gothic." Drawing on Walter Benjamin's reflections on "modes of illumination" and Jacques Fontanille's semiotics of light, it explores how neon-historically linked to twentieth-century consumer culture-is resemanticized in contemporary film. The analysis focuses on three key works: André Øvredal's The Autopsy of Jane Doe, where the morgue's white light spectralizes and objectifies the female body; Nicolas Winding Refn's The Neon Demon, where colored lighting intensifies the commodification of the female body within the fashion industry; and Jane Schoenbrun's I Saw the TV Glow, in which neon becomes a symbol of the fusion between reality and media imagery. Through Patricia MacCormack's concept of "cinesexuality," the paper highlights how neon lighting creates topographical spaces that redefine the relationship between viewer and film, offering new ways to articulate the abject and the erotic.

Chapter 1 of Michele Meek's book "Consent Culture and Teen Films: Adolescent Sexuality in US Films" provides an overview of the history of U.S. regulation of adolescent sexuality--from the silent era to contemporary films. Key movements of censorship, rating systems, and child pornography legislation are investigated, highlighting several films that circumvented barriers with groundbreaking or surprising representations of adolescent sexuality from each era. Despite an increasing acknowledgement over the past century plus that sexual desire and exploration is a normal part of childhood and adolescence, widespread anxiety nonetheless persists even today in U.S. culture around its visual depiction. Of course, the presiding concerns of the late 1890s are not the same as today. From the advent of cinema through the Production Code years, calls for censorship revealed widespread apprehension over how films might negatively impact youth behavior. From the late 1970s to the present, however, the urgency has shifted toward ensuring minors are not exploited in or by child pornography. That is not to say that one concern has completely replaced the other.
Concern for protecting children has significantly shaped and continues to shape how adolescent sexual behavior is visualized through film. Referencing dozens of teen films throughout the decades, this chapter demonstrates that although anxiety for adolescents’ exposure to ideas about sex through film has waned, concern over the sexual exploitation of minors has grown. Ultimately, this chapter provides a context for the subsequent chapters of the book, tracing a history of adolescent sexuality in U.S. teen films from the inception of cinema in the 1890s through the twenty-first century.

The marketing strategy behind Jennifer’s Body capitalized on Megan Fox’s emerging status as a sex symbol. As a result of this, many reviewers criticised it for not fulfilling their male fantasies. Ten years after its release, Jennifer’s Body is now interpreted as a feminist story. This essay explores the limits and contradictions of these readings through an analysis of the depiction of female monstrosity in the film. It starts with the establishment of a theoretical framework on the representation of female monsters in horror cinema and of the monstrous teenage girl. The analysis will be structured in three parts. The first examines the use of irony and self-consciousness in the satanic ritual scene in relation to the film’s portrayal of male violence. The second part reads Jennifer’s monstrosity as a result of her neoliberal, over-sexualised femininity. The last section explores the relationship between Jennifer and her friend Needy, which makes both of them monstrous in their own distinctive manners. This essay posits Jennifer’s Body and its representation of the monstrous feminine as both a feminist denunciation of a patriarchal system and a perpetuation of the same clichés the film wants to subvert.

Terms of use: Dieser Text wird unter einer Deposit-Lizenz (Keine Weiterverbreitung -keine Bearbeitung) zur Verfügung gestellt. Gewährt wird ein nicht exklusives, nicht übertragbares, persönliches und beschränktes Recht auf Nutzung dieses Dokuments. Dieses Dokument ist ausschließlich für den persönlichen, nicht-kommerziellen Gebrauch bestimmt. Auf sämtlichen Kopien dieses Dokuments müssen alle Urheberrechtshinweise und sonstigen Hinweise auf gesetzlichen Schutz beibehalten werden. Sie dürfen dieses Dokument nicht in irgendeiner Weise abändern, noch dürfen Sie dieses Dokument für öffentliche oder kommerzielle Zwecke vervielfältigen, öffentlich ausstellen, aufführen, vertreiben oder anderweitig nutzen. Mit der Verwendung dieses Dokuments erkennen Sie die Nutzungsbedingungen an. This document is made available under a Deposit License (No Redistribution -no modifications). We grant a non-exclusive, non-transferable, individual, and limited right for using this document. This document is solely intended for your personal, non-commercial use. All copies of this documents must retain all copyright information and other information regarding legal protection. You are not allowed to alter this document in any way, to copy it for public or commercial purposes, to exhibit the document in public, to perform, distribute, or otherwise use the document in public. By using this particular document, you accept the conditions of use stated above.

Education IDHEC DUDLEY ANDREW The resurgence of the American cinema, of its art as well as of its strength, has been credited in part to film schools where George Lucas (U.S.C.), Martin Scorcese (N.Y.U.), Francis Ford Coppola (U.C.L.A.), Terence Malek (A.F.I.), and Paul Schr?der (U.C.L.A. and A.F.I.) received their training. This, despite earlier presumptions that the industry of Hollywood, built on apprenticeship, unions, and mass production, was out of the reach of even talented students. Film schools might serve certain functions, but they were not the way to Hollywood. Of course Americans had read about, and seen the results of, European film schools: Bo Widerberg in Sweden, Polonski and Skolimoski in Lodz, Forman and Passer in Prague. But in each of these in stances it was a question of a small state-run industry able to support a substantial state-run school. Only Italy with its Centro Sperimen taal and France with IDHEC provided possible models for America, since here the state helped form a small corps of trained film artists who then had to enter a large, competi

This study addresses the ideological burden contained in the films Grease and Forrest Gump, especially regarding the transference of behavioral models intended to close down the values of counterculture in the audience. To this end, it analyzes some of the most significant sequences, with particular emphasis on the aesthetic and ideological function of the soundtrack, outlining the social relevance in the gestation of an integrating and uncritical collective imagination that stemmed from this cinema.

Abstrak, Artikel ini bertujuan untuk menjelaskan mengenai Feminisme Eksistensialis dengan membaca film bid'ah asal Malaysia. Feminisme Eksistensialis dapat dipahami pergerakan atas nama kesetaraan dan kemanusiaan yang memposisikan bahwa laki-laki dan perempuan adalah subjek, sehingga mereka berhak memiliki hak dan tujuan yang sama dan setara dalam kehidupan. Konteks pembacaan Feminisme Eksistensialis dalam Kacamata Simone De Beauvoir menarik dalam membaca perempuan mistis yang diterangkan sebagai perempuan dengan objek paripurna, sebab mereka membenarkan kekerasan terjadi terhadapnya meski tanpa alasan rasional sekalipun karena khasnya dalam perempuan mistis ialah bersandar kepada kepercayaan. Perempuan mistis ini bisa dilihat dari film bid'ah yang mencoba menjelaskan Kondisi semacam inilah yang terjadi kepada para perempuan yang dinikahi secara batin oleh walid, para perempuan itu adalah korban dari narasi walid akan atas nama Tuhan untuk mencoba mendekati, menikahi dan bahkan menghamili tanpa jalur hukum dan agama yang sah. Kata kunci : bid'ah, Feminisme Eksistensialis, perempuan mistis

Meng-Hong Chung is a distinguished Taiwanese filmmaker renowned for his artistic and socially critical works in Taiwan's Post-New Cinema. Through his unique visual style and narrative techniques, he explores the complexities of modern Taiwanese society and cultural identity. In his films, the intricate characterization and location-based shooting combine to provide profound insights into everyday life. His works significantly employ symbolism and focus on authentic emotional expressions, allowing the audience to empathize with the character's journey. Director Chung skillfully integrates elements of local cultures into his stories, highlighting the interplay of regional and universal themes. Remapping Taiwan's Post-New Cinema Movement and drawing upon the Lacanian psychoanalytic framework, Chung's three feature films, The Fourth Picture (2010), Soul (2013), and A Sun (2019), are used in this article to explore the complex dynamics between father and son, centering on the alienated masculinity and the decline of fatherhood in the context of Taiwan's New-Post Cinema. His cinematic aesthetics in those films signify the inner worlds and reveal various facets of contemporary Taiwanese society, making his films an indispensable part of Taiwanese cinema studies.

Gender in Horror Gender in horror movies has, for the most part, always seemed a bit controversial. The role of the male antagonist against their female counterpart. The way that the overtly masculine killer goes after the more openly sexual characters, often leaving the "purest" left for their final showdown. How is this shown and represented in horror and why is it shown this way?

The emergence of the “European American” in the later years of the twentieth century signified a departure from definitions of American citizenship and subjectivity limited to the racial semantics of homogenous whiteness. This shift in the discourse around ethnic whiteness is inflected in film after the 1960s, and Rocky IV (1985) is an example of ethnic representation in American cinema that sought to redefine the American man as an ethnic white patriarch. The film is specifically a part of the neoconservative wave of anticommunist films in the 1980s that attend to American individualism and the production of heroic and hegemonic white masculinity while reinscribing this hero with ethnicity.

In her 1991 essay “The Idea of a Home: A Kind of Space”, Mary Douglas defines ‘home’ as “always a localisable idea ... which starts by bringing some space under control.” (Douglas 289) However, in postcolonial nation states, the concept of home as a “space under control” - as a recognisable and stationary locus of ethnocultural and racial identity - is consistently disrupted and challenged as population displacement, labour flows and survival migrations across the globe increasingly lead to concomitant crises of identities, bodies and spaces. Additionally, new permutations of inequities and exploitation in globalised economies have further contributed to the volatility and instability within the configuration of ‘home’. In this incendiary context, the geopolitics of ‘home’ have become charged with historical, political and racial traumas, generating complex polarities of power and a pervasive culture of collective loss. This paper attempts to reimagine and rewrite the tenuous spatialities of ‘home’ in relation to themes of segregation, displacement and exile of ‘alien’ bodies in Neill Blomkamp’s satirical sci-fi film District 9 (2009). Situating my discourse against the historical backdrop of Apartheid South Africa and expanding the critical frameworks of postcolonial science fiction and related SF subgenres, this paper will concurrently examine spatial imaginaries of ‘home’ and ‘nonhome’ (Douglas) and explore politics of apartness and ‘unbelonging’, as we navigate the complex dialectics of trauma, loss and alienation in Blomkamp’s bizarre and indigenised SF cinematic universe.

Drawing upon the Foucauldian paradigms of power, gaze, discourse, and identity delineated in Discipline and Punish (Foucault 1975), this article analyzes Gladiator (Dir. Scott 2000). It probes the interplay of dominion and dialectics within the Roman Empire's narrative framework, alongside an examination of the protagonist's identity as a reflection of the prevailing power dynamics. This aim is achieved through the dissection of cinematographic elements such as gaze, spatiality, and mise-en-scène. In addition to traditional Foucauldian perspectives, the study integrates insights from Maniglier and Zabunyan (2018), Cárdenas (2017), Hamenstädt (2019), and Gibson (2021), offering a contemporary lens for examining Scott's portrayal of complex power structures. The innovation of this research lies in analyzing Scott's portrayal of a historically nebulous epoch, which deftly unveils the contention of Imperial and Republican discourses, whilst simultaneously muting the more sordid aspects of Rome's colonial exploits. The denouement posits the film not merely as a tale of vengeance but as an allegorical chronicle of contemporary American society. Maximus emerges as the standard-bearer for the Roman/American dream's resurgence, yet the film's tragic resolution signifies the elusive nature of this ideal; a unified Rome materializes only when it is bereft of its great heroes.
Keywords: Hollywood Cinema, Repressive State Apparatus (RSA), Ideological State Apparatus (ISA), Social Class, Philips’ Joker (2019)

During second semester 1997 we undertook a project to ascertain how the use of Hollywood feature films with historical content affected students' learning of twentieth century American History. Questionnaires, reflective journals and interviews were used to gauge the impact ...

Our purpose is to track the ways in which art and technology become allies to materialize the idea of the appropriation and domination of nature by the symbolic creation of artificial women. We are looking for the heirs of those anatomical Venus and Hoffman’s dolls by going beyond the female protagonists of films essentially narrated from points of view of male characters. We intend to explore whether we can find heroines who avenge their predecessors through the resistance of the corpses of The Body (2012), The Corpse of Anna Fritz (2015) or The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016) and
the inquisitive and rebels gynoids of Eva (2011), Ex Machina (2014) or  Westworld (2016), to be vexed, updating their gothic conflicts. We propose that, in the latest, the technological leap coincides with the endowment of subjectivity and an own point of view, features that allow them, unlike their predecessors, to narrate their own stories.

This course explores one possible path to understanding the origins and evolution of feminist film theory. Feminism, one of the most radical revolutions of the 20th century, coincided with the emergence of film as a new medium. We ask: How do feminism, queer thought, and trans critique illuminate our understanding of reality and the political potential of film aesthetics? How do they reconfigure film history—and history in general—to create a new vision of our present? What desires materialize in representations of gender on screen, and how do they shape our collective potential?

This course proposes that, like fiction, theory creates a language to describe lived experiences that are embodied yet rarely represented in the public sphere, expanding the representation of our presents. Theory expands language and works with conceptual precision to spark discussions that can resonate and even create new communities––much like film. The course envisions theory as ideas that manifest in different media, challenging the very notion of what theory is and what it should look like.

This introductory chapter from Hammonds' "Interpreting and Transmitting Kynicism in Joker: The Dark Side of Film Fandom" provides the practical and theoretical grounds for studying virtual film fandoms and the speech genre of "movie talk" to better understand the unique contours of these common communicative phenomena. The chapter sets up a larger argument that Far-Right internet influencers regularly coopt film fandom discourse and reappropriate it using seemingly innocent movie reviews or essays that actually contain malicious values.

I borrow my title from the great critic David Thomson, who uses it to introduce a short meditation not directly about film noir, but about the experience of driving in Los Angeles. 1 For Thomson, driving in Los Angeles is always imagining oneself in a movie, even in bright sunlight, and his thoughts seem "noir-ish" as he evokes Walter Neff's confessional dictaphone recording in Double Indemnity (1944) when he writes: "I would like to say that this piece was composed-written or dropped into the spirals of a recorder on the front seat-when driving in Los Angeles." However, Thomson makes a slight but significant detour as he continues: "Of course, I might have managed it, if the car were still, the dangers abstract and the roaming, unstable city just imagery behind me in a back projection,…the square of receding street seen through the back of a car [that] never moves, no matter how persistently the background assures…escape." 2 Indeed, the very first image of Edgar G. Ulmer's 1945 minimalist film noir, Detour, is such a back-projection: a deserted desert highway receding into the distance as seen by someone looking out the back of a car rather than forward at the stretch of road ahead. From the beginning and throughout the film's 67-minute running time, 3 as its questionable protagonist Al Roberts (Tom Neal) attempts to travel west toward an idealized California future, that receding road assuring escape

Combattant pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale, participant à des missions de bombardement sur l'Allemagne nazies avec des pertes humaines très lourdes, James Stewart en sortit profondément marqué, mais trouva dans l'exercice de son métier d'acteur (avec l'appui des rôles complexes que surent alors lui offrir Frank Capra, Anthony Mann et Alfred Hitchcock) la possibilité d'une thérapie.

Initials MM (Marilyn chez les autres) Éric Thouvenel « Nous pouvons maintenant dégager un des traits fondamentaux du culte des stars. Fétichistes, mentales, mystiques, l'appropriation, l'assimilation et la dévoration sont des modes divers d'identification 1. » S'il est quelqu'un qui a été vu, revu, repris, caricaturé, rêvé, réinventé dans la vaste histoire des images et plus précisément dans celle des images en mouvement, c'est bien Marilyn Monroe. Hormis peut-être Jésus de Nazareth et Ernesto Che Gevara, en effet, il n'est guère de personnalités qui soient parvenues, avec ou-le plus souvent-sans leur consentement, à un tel degré d'incandescence ou de saturation iconographique. Pour le formuler de façon un peu plus prosaïque, on pourrait dire que les représentations post mortem de l'actrice Norma Jean Baker (1926-1962), mieux connue sous le nom de Marilyn Monroe, dépassent allègrement le nombre des rôles qu'elle a effectivement interprétés au long de sa courte et fulgurante carrière, soit trente-trois longs métrages tournés entre 1947 et 1962, dont six où elle ne fut pas créditée au générique, et un qui n'a jamais été achevé. Marilyn Monroe est ce qu'il est banalement convenu d'appeler une « icône du XX e siècle ». Un siècle dont il est tout aussi banal de rappeler que les personnages médiatiques, au premier rang desquels les stars de cinéma, y ont fait figure d'idoles autant que d'icônes, comme autant de contrepoids matérialistes et un peu dérisoires au sentiment de la perte du Sacré. Un siècle au cours duquel les églises se vident, mais où les magasins se remplissent et où pullulent les représentations, comme celles du visage et du corps de Marilyn Monroe, au cinéma bien sûr mais également sur les cimaises des musées (Andy warhol, passim), sur des affiches, des T-shirts, des tasses à café, des porte-clés, des tapis de souris, des bougies, des boîtes de gâteaux, des crayons, des serviettes de bain, etc., etc. L'image de Marilyn Monroe figure donc, et particulièrement depuis son décès tragique, sur toutes sortes d'objets de consommation courante. Mais elle est aussi, depuis une dizaine d'années au moins, très en vogue au-delà du cercle de la culture populaire. Les quarantième et cinquantième anniversaires de sa mort, en 2003 et 2013, ont en effet fourni l'occasion de multiplier les hommages et d'entamer, puis d'entériner, ce que l'on peut qualifier de véritable procès en révision. Qu'il s'agisse en effet de romans 2 , d'expositions 3 , de la publication de ses écrits intimes 4 ou encore d'ouvrages photographiques, d'articles de presse, de films documentaires 5 ou de biopics 6 , c'est en gros une seule et même idée qui prévaut aujourd'hui, réitérée jusqu'à la caricature : nous serions passés, des années durant, à côté de la « véritable » Marilyn Monroe, qu'il faudrait donc réhabiliter d'urgence, pour faire apparaître derrière la Dumb Blonde et le Sex Symbol, non seulement une grande actrice (ce qu'elle était, sans doute), mais presque un génie méconnu, en publiant par exemple la moindre de ses lettres ou de ses poèmes, fort touchants au demeurant. Si l'on s'astreint, néanmoins, à observer tout ensemble l'actrice, la jeune femme et le phénomène médiatique avec un petit peu plus de distance, et un petit peu moins de pathos, il apparaît peut-être simplement que Marilyn Monroe n'était pas un génie littéraire, mais une jeune femme très sensible qui avait beaucoup de mal à accepter l'idée d'être annexée de son vivant au registre des images. Or ce fut bien, et paradoxalement, sa plus éclatante réussite : Marilyn Monroe a d'abord été cela, une image, elle-même extrêmement sensible à ce que la caméra-et par extension le regard, tous les regards-pouvait simultanément capturer et projeter sur cette surface infiniment inscriptible. C'est ce qu'avait très bien perçu Norman Mailer dans un beau roman antérieur à la grande foire de la réhabilitation générale, intitulé Mémoires imaginaires de Marilyn 7 , paru en 1980 et faisant suite (ce n'est pas fortuit) au Chant du bourreau, pour lequel il obtint le prix Pulitzer et qui, déjà, travaillait sur la

“Chapter 2: The Silent Memories of Discontents and Their Implications for Democracy” in _Southeast Asia: Interests and Discontents_, edited by Wen Pin Lin, et al., Kaohsuing, Taiwan: Wenzhao Ursuline University Press, 2024, pp 30-53; revised from the keynote speech at the “International Conference on Southeast Asian Studies (Wenzao ICSEAS)”, at Wenzao Ursuline Languages University, Kaohsiung, Taiwan, 19-21 October 2023.
Abstract: In Southeast Asia, two prominent legacies of colonialism are authoritarianism and domestic regional discontents. This is true even for Thailand which was not formally colonized. Regional conflicts and the struggles for democracy have left silent memories on the peoples of Southeast Asia. What are the reasons for Southeast Asia’s inability to come to terms with its traumatic past and what are the long-term consequences?

Tous droits réservés © La revue Séquences Inc., 1992 Ce document est protégé par la loi sur le droit d'auteur. L'utilisation des services d'Érudit (y compris la reproduction) est assujettie à sa politique d'utilisation que vous pouvez consulter en ligne. Cet article est diffusé et préservé par Érudit. Érudit est un consortium interuniversitaire sans but lucratif composé de

This review article provides a thorough psychoanalytic exploration of David Lynch's Lost Highway, a film celebrated for its intricate narrative and surreal imagery. Utilizing Freudian and Lacanian theories, the analysis investigates the film's themes of identity, trauma, and the unconscious. The protagonist's disjointed journey through fragmented realities serves as a case study in the manifestation of repressed desires and fears. By examining the interplay of memory, perception, and selfhood, this article reveals the deeper psychological currents that drive the narrative and influence character motivations. Furthermore, the discussion situates Lost Highway within Lynch's broader oeuvre, highlighting the director's fascination with the subconscious and the complexities of human experience. Ultimately, this psychoanalytic reading positions Lost Highway as not merely a cinematic puzzle but also a profound commentary on the nature of reality and the psyche, inviting viewers to confront their own unconscious landscapes.

In 1989, Kimberlé Crenshaw, an American professor, coined the term "intersectionality" to describe how various individual characteristics such as race, class, gender, and other factors overlap and intersect with one another. Intersectional feminism is a subset of feminism which recognizes the distinct identities and experiences of all women and acknowledges that all forms of discrimination overlap. Its ultimate goal is to achieve social and political equity by addressing the social stratification based on class, gender, race, sexual orientation, creed, disability, and age. Though initially a movement intended to explore female oppression, intersectionality has been criticized for being too broad, with its focus on subjective experiences making it difficult to identify shared sources of oppression. The south Indian biopic Thalaivi serves as an example of intersectionality in action, as it portrays the story of the actress and former Tamil Nadu Chief Minister Dr. J. Jayalalitha, who finds the courage to challenge societal norms and celebrate life.

El artículo compila tantouna reflexión teórica suscitada por la relación entre el texto cinematográfico y la realidad social, como un encuadre didáctico para leer esa realidad a partir de estos sistemas textuales; todo esto con el propósito de dar cuenta de cómo un cierto sector de las producciones estéticas modernas metaforiza los avatares políticos, hasta generar extrañamiento y, por tanto, autorreflexión. A través de un modelo esbozado desde los parámetros del análisis discursivo y aplicado al polémico filme "Irreversible" (2002) del director Gaspar Noé, se desenmascara críticamente la situación política de las últimas décadas vividas en Francia, demostrando de forma concreta cómo el cine también presenta la historia nacional desde el uso de simbolismos y complejos juegos connotativos. El plus radica en que no sólo hay allí una puesta en escena de los hechos de forma artística, sino que dispara la posibilidad de activar el pensamiento crítico y, por tanto, la comprensión de sí mismo y del colectivo, aquello que Foucault llamaría, la "ontología del presente".

Begin with a sharp intake of breath, the sound of life hooked up to a ventilator. Fill the screen with a man's parted lips, beaded with sweat. Move like a fly along the bridge of his nose. Stare into the eye which stares out through foggy lens at steam rising from car's engine. The outside world comes first as noise filtered, its base tones heightened, through water. The objects on the landscape come into view, one by one: Latina child-waif clutching blonde bombshell doll, her empty stare fixed on you; woman painting protruding exaggerated lips, scarlet red; schoolbus of screaming schoolchildren-multiculturalism wrapped in American flag; Hollywood hustlers, smacking chewing gum, clinching a deal on cellular phone.

Le Desperado, janvier 2017 : rétrospective Michèle Morgan. Lorsque la lumière revient dans la petite salle glaciale aux fauteuils rouges épuisés, le public silencieux constitué de septuagénaires, voire octogénaires, sort lentement et retourne à la rue hivernale : émotions cinématographiques retrouvées, souvenirs intimes associés au film, magie des images redécouvertes, souvenirs entêtants d'une fidélité de fan, bien-être de la nostalgie… Les stars contribuent-elles toujours à approfondir les solitudes individuelles 1 ? Une star Michèle Morgan ? Oui sans doute -même si elle en a souvent contesté le terme -mais une star émancipée, battante, lucide. « Moi je suis une femme qui a travaillé toute sa vie » avait l'habitude de répondre l'actrice lorsqu'on lui rappelait la star, la légende qu'elle était devenue. Ce sont 74 films tournés de 1935, première brève apparition dans Mademoiselle Mozart dont Danielle Darrieux était la vedette, à 1990 dans un film de Giuseppe Tornatore auprès de Marcello Mastroianni, huit rôles pour la télévision 2 , quatre rôles au théâtre dont celui d'Esther à l'âge de soixante douze ans dans les Monstres sacrés de Jean Cocteau auprès de Jean Marais en 1993, pièce mise en scène par Raymond Gérôme. La peinture vient en plus. Sa rencontre avec le peintre Jean Moïse Kisling réfugié aux États-Unis pendant la guerre qui fait son portrait en 1943 est décisive : « J'ai alterné les styles entre tachisme,

Note: This is the English language version of a paper published in French as « Vieillir, agir: les héros d'âge mûr dans deux séries de films d'action hollywoodiens.» L'Âge des stars: des images à l'épreuve du vieillissement. Eds. Charles-Antoine Courcoux, Gwénaëlle Le Gras, Raphaëlle Moine. L'Âge d'homme, 2017. pp 130-50. Permission to reprint the paper in English is graciously given by the editors of the collection. Summary This paper explores the treatment of ageing in the ensemble action hero series RED (2010 and 2013) starring Bruce Willis and Helen Mirren and The Expendables (2010, 2012, and 2014) starring Sylvester Stallone and other 1980s action stars. These two series combine action with comedy to thematize two sets of issues in relation ageing-first, about competence and usefulness and, second, about meaningful relationships. In the RED series, these two overarching concerns are linked explicitly to ageing whereas, in the Expendables films, these concerns replace those about ageing. In other words, the Expendables series mainly ignores ageing and presents its heroes as operating in a continuum of middle-age action, while the RED series explores many of the key issues of ageing in twenty-first century America. The RED and Expendables series rewrite the established narrative of ageing and it is this departure from stereotyped representations of ageing which generates the comedic moments in the films but also what makes them interesting to ageing audiences. The stars and heroes of RED and Expendables are popular precisely because they are not acting their age.

The novel "Forrest Gump" written by Winston Groom focuses on the extraordinary journey of Forrest Gump, a man who grows up in Greenbow, Alabama. He has a low IQ and still accomplished great things in his life including having a significant part of various historical events of American history. Forrest's life is a series of incredible and humorous episodes; from becoming a star in a college football into serving in the Vietnam war, as well as from captaining a shrimp boat to accidentally having an impact on a major American historical event. Forrest narrates his adventures in a simple and truthful perspective, despite his cognitive limitations, he excels in different fields because of his physical abilities and sheer luck. His unique perception on life helps him to navigate in a society that often underestimates him. The novel explores the theme of destiny, love, and most importantly; the ability of an ordinary individual's action on influencing the broader aspects of life.

David Lynch and Mark Frost’s Twin Peaks: The Return (2017) may be read as an extended meditation on the universal desire to return – to a putative golden age or lost paradise – and the eerie effects that are produced when this desire is realized. More specifically, the show explores the prevalent desire amongst TV audiences to continually “return” to beloved fictional spaces and characters. Drawing on psychoanalytic and philosophical theories of the uncanny, as well as film and media studies, the article explores the theme of returning within the show’s fictional and meta-fictional cosmos (the characters’ and viewers’ dream of going back) in relation to Lynch’s highly critical portrayal of the medium of television. In Lynch’s cinematic aesthetics of the uncanny, television (associated with consumerism, the nuclear family, and mindless repetition) is portrayed as a malign influence, providing faux nostalgia devoid of meaning or experiential value. Given that most of the returns in Twin Peaks: The Return always turn out to be unhomely, I suggest that Lynch’s take on TV culture may be read as a general commentary on the social and political nightmares created by a fetishization of the (real or fictional) past.

Tous droits réservés © Association des cinémas parallèles du Québec, 2004 Ce document est protégé par la loi sur le droit d'auteur. L'utilisation des services d'Érudit (y compris la reproduction) est assujettie à sa politique d'utilisation que vous pouvez consulter en ligne.

This study provides a critical analysis discourses about black gay men, using critical discourse analysis (CDA) as its methodology. First, the white-institutional-phallus is established as the greater discursive structure driving negating discourses about non-heterosexual black men. Second, languages of bereavement, of phallic "presence" and phallic "absence," are shown to constitute this discourse practice. The study then reveals how the repudiation of black gay men depends on the repudiation of the feminine and, particularly, how anal penetration and emasculation are used as heuristic tropes for the "racial failure" of black gay men because they are constructed by and constitutive of repudiations of the feminine. Finally, analyses of black gay characters in film show this discursive practice in the context of US popular culture and illustrate how black bodies are appropriated for ideological aims. Since phallic scripts ultimately standardize white phallic embodiment by rendering black phallic embodiment "deviant" or "pathological," black men should extricate themselves from phallic discourse and take control of their bodily self-determination, self-representation, and self-definition. vi