Film Matters - Volume 12, Issue 2, 2021

Rubber (2010) could be read as a monstrous replication of a male-dominated society that sees women subordinated and exploited simply for their “otherness” to men. This article, however, argues that when a dynamic reading is performed, Rubber can be seen to question Hollywood’s dominant system of gender representation and should therefore be considered a feminist film. In dialogue with feminist theory, it will be claimed that by drawing attention to the artifice of cinema, Dupieux has delivered a feminine text that highlights and calls for change to inherently misogynistic codes and conventions present in traditional dominant cinema and society in general.

Both released during the 1930s, Fritz Lang’s film Fury (1936) and James Whale’s film Frankenstein (1931) shed light on the threat of mob violence during a decade shaken by economic depression and social turmoil. Considered together in this film analysis, Lang’s Fury and Whale’s Frankenstein reveal the ways lynch violence infiltrated American cultural output during the 1930s. In turn, both directors can be seen as shedding a much-needed light on the social scourges of racism, antisemitism, and homophobia in the 1930s America by including scenes with mobs attempting to kill an innocent who is nevertheless presumed guilty without due process.

Modern audiences and critics are fascinated by Anders als die Andern (1919), widely considered the first feature film to focus on a homosexual relationship. The film is as exceptional for its progressive plot as it is for its miraculous survival – a large fragment of the film survived because it was hidden from the Nazis within another film. Even so, upon closer examination, it is clear that there are many misogynistic aspects of Anders that mirror elements and themes found in other Weimar films. While Anders is certainly novel in its queer subject matter, the film remains profoundly influenced by the patriarchal forces that dominated Weimar culture.

Knowing David Lynch’s background as an Eagle Scout, this article explores that many of Lynch’s films and their protagonists, particularly Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan) in Blue Velvet (1986), embody Eagle Scout-like heroes and serve as genre-like “Eagle Scout films.” These films and their protagonists have similarities with the film noir and western genres and their detective/cowboy heroes through their dealings with ethics, morality, and justice in sadistic worlds. In his genre-hybrid films, Lynch acts as an auteur in using recurring thematic preoccupations/stylistic tendencies, while exemplifying hostile environments offset by a central protagonist with an Eagle Scout-like set of morals.

This article argues that Wes Anderson’s films repeat formal and thematic strategies in such a way that resists traditional auteurist analysis. By looking at Anderson’s recognizable style of image composition, his expansive paratext, and recurring thematic motifs, we can see a productive system of repetition operative both within and across his films. The value Anderson places on repetition opposes Peter Wollen’s structural auteurist framework, which values variation over repetition. Such opposition allows Anderson’s films to be taken up as a critique of this valuation, demonstrated through an analysis of the productive role of repetition in his work.

In Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2, Quentin Tarantino uses thematic symbolism to demonstrate the evolution of the film’s characters by assigning them code names. Each character’s code name is a different species of snake or is related to snakes: Black Mamba, Copperhead, Cottonmouth, Sidewinder, California Kingsnake, and Snake Charmer. Their aliases are a few examples of Easter eggs concealed in the films. The code names portray aspects of their character and the story of their growth as individuals. The protagonist, Beatrix Kiddo undergoes numerous aliases and evolves throughout the film through her recovery from immense trauma.

Damon Lindelof gives an interview on how his writing tackles the human experience by shining a light on internal monsters we face as well as the broader concept of the unknown as monstrous. Including discussions on Lost (2004–2010), The Leftovers (2014–2017), and Watchmen (2019), Lindelof compares film to television in terms of effectiveness in storytelling as well as expanding on his focus on “sit forward” television and how he has seen his own characters reflecting some of his own struggles.

Review of: Global TV Horror, Stacey Abbott and Lorna Jowett (2021)

Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 272pp., ISBN: 9781786836946 (pbk), $57

Review of: New Blood: Critical Approaches to Contemporary Horror, Eddie Falvey, Joe Hickinbottom, and Jonathan Wroot (2021)

Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 288pp., ISBN: 9781786836342 (pbk), $60

Review of: Bond Girls: Body, Fashion and Gender, Monica Germanà (2020)

London: Bloomsbury Visual Arts, 264pp.,

ISBN-10: 0857855328 (pbk), $34.95,

ISBN-10: 085785643X (hbk), $76.22

Review of: Suburban Fantastic: Growing Up in the Late Twentieth Century, Angus McFadzean (2019)

London: Wallflower Press and Columbia University Press, 144pp., ISBN: 9780231189958 (pbk), $23.00, ISBN: 9780231548632 (hbk), $21.99

Denmark

Director Thomas Vinterberg

Runtime 117 minutes

USA

Director Tobe Hooper

Runtime 83 minutes