Gorgasmic Godard!So here I am, again, writing in this spiteful blog, writing a conundrum of words that I do not possess. Writing. That's the word. Consider me an elitist, a high-sounding freak, a bourgeoisie who spends a crack in the morning to study the art of filmmaking and its representations to the cultural identity of a nation. Well, of course, film is a twentieth century art form, a modern artform, and because of its "transcultural" effect to the current globalization trend (as Rey Chow suggested in a book i was reading a few hours ago), it remains the most effective in capturing the way of life of certain cultures. Why wouldn't it be?
I want to debase myself by subscribing to a method of film analysis called cultural studies. This is in order for me to discuss films of "East Asia" for my History class. I have never used cultural theory to verify that Ozu shots corresponds to a Buddhist concept whereas Godard's La Chinoise has brainwashing effects. I regret to say this but i never subscribe to such ideas. It was such a pain in the ass moving from one perspective to another, studying again and again the methods of analysis, the arguments, the route of reason from here to here, a pain. Of course, it makes one a versatile prick able to tell the difference between auteurist (which was killed two days ago in some blog i know) line and the psychoanalyst line of thinking. It despises me to shift from one theory to another. I feel like a whore inside, or an adulterer more so.
You know what, enough of this bandwagon-neo-neo talk and let us stop this blog post at once. What a thrash!
Ciaopao!
***
I want to debase myself by subscribing to a method of film analysis called cultural studies. This is in order for me to discuss films of "East Asia" for my History class. I have never used cultural theory to verify that Ozu shots corresponds to a Buddhist concept whereas Godard's La Chinoise has brainwashing effects. I regret to say this but i never subscribe to such ideas. It was such a pain in the ass moving from one perspective to another, studying again and again the methods of analysis, the arguments, the route of reason from here to here, a pain. Of course, it makes one a versatile prick able to tell the difference between auteurist (which was killed two days ago in some blog i know) line and the psychoanalyst line of thinking. It despises me to shift from one theory to another. I feel like a whore inside, or an adulterer more so.
You know what, enough of this bandwagon-neo-neo talk and let us stop this blog post at once. What a thrash!
Ciaopao!
***
