Journal of European Popular Culture - Current Issue

Pieter Van Hees’s Waste Land (2014) situates Belgian national anxiety in the country’s White supremacist past and present, both of which milieux are shared by its language communities. The film suggests, perhaps in spite of itself, that the claim by Brussels to be a centre of power is ethnically, as well as ethically, problematic. It breaks a taboo in confronting Belgium’s colonial past, on the eve of the 150th anniversary of Leopold II’s accession (1865). Yet, it ultimately reproduces the economy of the racialized system it tries to critique, becoming particularly problematic from the point of view of Black women. The ineffability of spatial spectacle would betray the way in which its protagonist’s narrative is ‘mapped’ onto the space of Brussels, with the character’s breakdown – hence, a failed attempt at constructing his own narrative, at mapping his life in Brussels – bearing further unintentional testimony to the city’s abject history beneath it.

A young exile from fascist Germany returns to his homeland with the conquering army in 1945 and must grapple with questions of identity, belonging, conscience and ideology. This is the premise of both Konrad Wolf’s East German film Ich war neunzehn (1968) and Axel Corti’s Austrian production Welcome in Vienna (1986). The differences between the two films are, however, striking. Wolf’s protagonist Gregor returns with the Soviet forces, while Corti’s Freddy is an American GI; however this is merely the starting point. This article probes the narratives as well as the production and reception contexts that determine this stark contrast and examines the two films in terms of aesthetics, national politics and as ideological statements by their directors and documents of the Cold War.

This article focuses on the aesthetics of European pop music in the aftermath of the 2019–23 COVID-19 pandemic. I will suggest that this created the perfect conditions for the proliferation of a new kind of pop. Euphoric in tone, post-pandemic pop has been orientated towards the dance floor, nostalgic for 1980s sounds and unconcerned with lyrical complexity. However, it is not without pathos. I will argue that the interpolation of 1980s synth-pop is a symbolic return to the AIDS crisis. I will suggest that musical codes aestheticize sadness in a way that is both familiar and distant. In this direction, film and television soundtracks are particularly potent. Russel T. Davies’s It’s a Sin (2021) screened at the height of the pandemic became a lens through which many understood COVID-19, with music a tool for processing loss, longing and tragedy. The proliferation of disco during this period repositioned the genre as a contemporary form. Focusing on the summer of 2023, however, I will contend that in the revival of Italo disco, we encounter futuristic sensibility, which perfectly fits the post-pandemic mood. A paradoxical gift from our 1980s ancestors, Italo could be the key to unlocking the paralysis of never-ending reminiscence. It is time to turn the lights on the disco and explore the contemporary resonance of a genre that has always existed in the shadows.