Friday, May 30, 2014

Surrealism, Subconscious and the Sub-atomic

A 21st century film analysis on Amacord and Belle de Jour

            
           Life is but a dream.  This simple phrase from a child's song can sum up the first 100 years of cinema.  For it is our consciousness in all its constructs—collective and individual—that defines who we are as a people and defines what becomes expressed through cinema, one of many conduits that conveys the human condition.  The art of cinema really is no art at all, but life itself, or rather life within life.  For it takes many conscious minds to produce this life which entertains, captivates and inspires us to continue creating such life, therefore creating the ability to dream and express dreams.
"Lady of the Lake Tarnished"
(photo illustration by Malacara)











   Consciousness, with an emphasis in surrealism, will be examined on how it specifically relates to film narrative, apparatus and ideology in the late 20th century films Amacord and Belle de Jour.  Not only will traditional analysis be presented, but also an alternative interpretation, taken from the world of quantum physics, which by the way, is about as old as the cinema itself.  Both films delve into conscious and subconscious thought, however lively or dark it might be. Each film may differ slightly in its presentation of narrative, but each is connected—however slight the connection—to the surrealist genre.  In this type of film, notions of cause and effect within film narrative are tossed off the page.  According to David Bordwell and Kristin Thompson, "Surrealist cinema is overtly anti-narrative, attacking causality itself.  If rationality is to be fought, causal connections among events must be dissolved (Bordwell 411). 
            Since the landscape of the mind is the jumping off point for surrealist cinema, we must examine its roots.  Surrealism came of age in the early 20th century—specifically the mid-to-late 1920s. Their spokesman, André Breton, said surrealism "was based on the belief in the superior reality of certain forms of association, heretofore neglected, in the omnipotence of dreams" (Bordwell 411).  What probably attracted surrealists to cinema, according to Geoffrey Nowell-Smith, was the different films they saw at the cinema.  "As A.L. Rees has remarked in his "History of Experimental Film and Video (BFI, 1999), they were the original channel-surfers, watching brief snatches of a film in one Parisian fleapit before dashing onto another in search of further thrills (found at
Those who subscribed to surrealism studied the psychoanalytical work of Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, who had laid the groundwork for modern psychology (found at http://www.gosurreal.com/history.htm). Through his research with a female patient, Freud came up with a division of the mind into three aspects of the mind, which he called id, ego and super-ego. The id represents a person's child-like need for instant gratification, while the ego acts to temper any urge and creates the image of "the self" while the super-ego rules over the other two aspects by using punishment or pride as a check and balance system

Amacord
With this in mind, an examination of the Federico Fellini film Amacord will illustrate some Freudian points.  Fellini, although not considered a surrealist by any film scholar, does employ some surrealistic elements in this 1974 film, which is a narrative based on memory (conscious) and fantasy (subconscious).  The story is an autobiographical account of Fellini's memories as a teenaged boy coming of age during the reign of Benito Mussolini.  The story also has multiple characters that, at one point or another during the film, get to express some inner thought or desire, which is usually reserved for any protagonist.
An example of Freudian psychology at work within Amacord is in the act mid-way through the film where Titta, Fellini's alter ego, and the rest of his family visit Uncle Teo in the mental hospital.  Uncle Teo is pure id unbound.  Teo is insane, although no explanation is given as to why, and acts purely on impulse.  In his own surrealist sense of the world and its order, Teo confuses two different priests—one who is living (conscious) and one who is dead—because his own sense of time (consciousness) is altered by his illness.  He cannot distinguish between the two.  We see what he sees through a comic eye because he lacks humility, i.e. he forgets to unzip his fly and wets himself, a truly infantile act.  He exhibits more impulse when he suddenly disappears from sight only to wind up a tree shouting, "I want a woman!"  The comic effect is emphasized when Titta asks his father if he should send for Volpina, the town's streetwalker. 
            The preoccupation with sex is a running motif in the film.  This falls in line with Freudian theory because sexual desire is a basis for this theory.  We even see motifs within motifs.  In the confessional scene, we see Titta remember the festival of St. Anthony and the blessing of the animals with images of sheep contrast cut with images of women's posteriors emphasizing Titta's teenaged obsession with the opposite sex.  The posterior motif is present again in the scene where Titta and his friends view the Victory statue shot with a tight, close-up shot of its posterior.  The boys then end the scene by masturbating to this visual stimulus.  The woman's posterior is an example of synecdoche because it represents Titta's idea of women as sex objects rather than complete human beings with conscious thoughts of their own.

Women, sex and power
The Volpina character also is a motif because she reappears at certain moments to re-emphasize the film's prevailing ideology that women are nothing more than sex toys to be played with and then tossed aside after self-gratification.  Volpina appears within the mise-en-scene at a distance, disassociated from the rest of the film's characters, except when "duty" calls.  In the beach scene where workers are constructing a house or building, Volpina tells the workers she's looking for her lost "cat."  The foreman replies, "There are no cats here—Go home."  The scene's subtext:  I'm selling sexual gratification.  Who wants to find it.  Reply:  Get lost you sick whore.  It's repeated in another of Titta's memories during confession as he fixes her flat tire.  The camera closes in on her face, mouth wide open, licking her lips as her head drops down from the camera's view, again implying some type of sexual activity.
            She either appears in the mise-en-scene in a long shot to show disassociation, or with a facial close-up to show a lascivious nature, which appears somewhat deranged, which leaves the viewer asking how that nature came to be.  In the first part of the film, Volpina appears at a distance, but as the festive nature builds during the "witch burning" festival, a gang of men appears and grabs Volpina, lifting her up in the air spread-eagle, and carrying her out of the frame.  The implication here could be for an orgy or gang rape, therefore she's viewed as powerless.
The character known as Gradisca (translation: help yourself) is also viewed as a sexual object or an object of desire.  She's worshiped from afar by many of the town's men and boys, most of all by Titta, who actually pursues her into a darkened theater.  One isn't quite sure if this is an actual memory or a dream because no one else appears in the theater and the lighting suggests a surrealist moment.  But reality comes back with a bite when Titta gets rejected after touching Gradisca's knee. 
The town's people tap Gradisca's sexual power when they need to secure some capital for the harbor.  They tell her to date an aristocrat who will comply with their wishes if she will comply with him.  Each time she appears in the film, she's either wearing a bright red coat or a bright red scarf, which overtly symbolizes her sexual power.  In the scene with the aristocrat, she removes the coat and wears a black negligee while he appears wearing a white uniform, presumably of a high-ranking military officer.  In the mise-en-scene, this is meant to imply the purity or sincerity of the man's sexual advances while the woman is cast in the role of the less sincere temptress, or the less important being in this brief on-screen relationship.
            The tobacco woman is the only woman who forcefully exerts her sexual power by taking advantage of a naive Titta.  In the scene, he walks into her shop at closing time, presumably for a cigarette.  The woman knows what Titta really wants and obliges by producing the objects of desire, i.e. her breasts, and allows Titta to suckle them.  She spoils his short-lived ecstasy by immediately dismissing him and embarrassing him by not even fully opening the sliding door to let him pass without hunching over.  He had his cake and didn't like the taste it left in his mouth.  What he didn't realize is that she ripped his innocence from him and he can never retrieve it.

More surreal
            The previous scene analyses had some surrealist flavoring, but do not truly capture the genre's essence.  The following scenes adequately illustrate surrealist qualities, symbolized by water.  First, the scene where the idiot vendor Biscein, "recounts" the story of a harem cloistered away in the Grand Hotel.  In his mind he sees many willing women either in or surrounding a bathing pool inside the room.  The pool represents his subconscious desire for sex with these women and is shot with deep focus to emphasize the strength of his desire. 
Second, the scene where the town's folk row or sail out in the harbor to meet the regime's masterpiece ship.  The seawater represents everyone's subconscious desires—Gradisca's longing for a husband and children, Aurelio (Titta's father) wanting to know more about the universe and other characters expressing their inner desires while sailing on this sea of subconscious.  The sea also acts as motif.
A third example of a subconscious water motif is the snow scene where Titta pursues Gradisca through a maze of snow walls.  The snow symbolizes the purity and sincerity of his desire to mate with her, but cannot because she remains elusive, much like a dream.  Gradsica is also seen wearing white to camouflage her sexual experience, but is given away with her red scarf.  A male peacock appears within the mise-en-scene in a kind of overkill of the male-dominated ideology.
The fog scene with Titta's little brother and his grandfather illustrates the subconscious fear of death.  Both wander around in fear of their lives while bare trees accentuate this via the pointed tree branches.
The race car scene where Titta and his fat friend imagine themselves as racecar drivers illustrates desired sexual prowess.  Titta has his arm wrapped around Gradisca while the other boy gives a rather vulgar gesture to the girl he has a crush on.
One final surrealist example is the running motif of the motorcycle man.  He represents time streaking forward while serving a diegetic purpose of transition from one scene to the next, similar to a wipe.  The opening and closing scenes have a surrealist quality, which serves to tie the film together.  Puffballs float around the city and hang in the air like a slow motion, or dreamlike snowfall.  The diegetic puffballs signal the beginning of spring and also act as a slow motion transitional wipe.

Ideology
The scene where Titta's corpulent, red-headed friend sees the large Mussolini head made from flowers officiating over his fantasy marriage to school-girl Aldina.  Mussolini's head in this dream is synecdoche representing the whole of the fascist regime.  In the ideological context, this means that only fascism can achieve this boy's deepest desires and will benefit the state in return via a complacent, obedient individual.
           However, Fellini show us that Mussolini is merely a 'cult of personality' that the townspeople readily buy into, but at least one—Titta's father—resists.  He calls the fascists "black-shirted lice," and gets picked up by the police.  They force him to drink a toast to fascist victory with a glass of castor oil.  In doing so, he defecates on himself, destroying his super-ego and leaving him humiliate by his id.
The male dominant ideology has already been pointed out in the previous analyses, but it follows Laura Mulvey's theory of male narrative cinema and visual pleasure, which states the camera takes on the "male gaze."  For example, we see the police hassle Titta's father—not his mother, probably because she's a woman and not ideologically threatening.  We see Gradisca running to touch "Il Duce," therefore wanting to embrace this patriarchal society where women are objects and not people.  We also see both the men and women in the town falling over each other to see the arrival of the new prostitutes at the local bordello.

Belle de Jour
            This particular movie, written and directed by Luis Buñuel, remains somewhat faithful to the surrealist movement that he helped start during the late 1920s.  The movie is a restrictive narrative about a young, married, upper-class woman who leads a double life within her head and within the on-screen reality.  The woman, Severine (Catherine Deneuve) is the protagonist who opens up the film with a dream sequence where she's riding in a carriage with her husband Pierre as the carriage bells chime.  He has her forcefully removed, dragged through the woods where she's horsewhipped and raped by one of the drivers.  While this transpires, Severine tells her husband "not to let the cats out."  This, along with the bells, becomes a motif that will be elaborated on later.
We find out it's a dream when we see Severine in the next scene lying in bed answering her husbands query, "What are you thinking about?"  She says, "Us."  Through this scene we have some exposition.  We find out they've been married for a year, sleep in separate beds and are going on a skiing vacation.  The action shifts to the ski resort where we meet their friend Reneé.  She asks them if they wish to see the hypnotist perform later that evening.  Pierre tells her that it's not a hypnotist but a magician performing later.  He then tells her hypnosis reveals dark secrets while magic doesn't.  What Buñuel does with the mise-en-scene is tell us indirectly that the dark subconscious will get a light shined on it if we're patient enough.

Belle's surrealism
     Buñuel launches the audience off this platform and plays around with the narrative, oscillating from the traditional (cause and effect) to the surreal (causality doesn't apply).  After we meet Reneé, we meet her husband Husson.  We discover he lusts for Severine, which very much disturbs her.  So much so, she drops a vase of roses and a bottle of perfume.  These actions symbolize her subconscious turmoil with her masochistic fantasy life, i.e. the fluid inside these containers spilling out, therefore no longer contained.  This creates another dream or flashback where we see Severine as a little girl being molested by an older man.  Buñuel may have "cheated" by showing us this, but one could argue that he doesn't violent the tenets of Freudian theory by letting her conscious memory display this.  However, this line is very blurry at best.
            After Husson and Reneé tell Severine about their other friend Henriette becoming a prostitute, Severine decides to do the same.  She locates the local brothel, wearing sunglasses to disguise herself from herself (very surrealistic) and has another flashback.  This time we see her at communion refusing "the body" of Christ.  We hear the priest ask her "What's the matter with you?" as she returns to the doorway of Madame Anais, the words still ringing in her head.  Severine accepts employment from Anais and meets her first customer.  But before this, Anais "christens" Severine with a new name, "Belle du Jour," because she can only work during day between 2 and 5 p.m.  To celebrate, Anais offers up some cherries from a jar.  Again, the cherries, symbols of what's left of Severine's virtue, are ready to be swallowed up as she embarks on this dark journey.
            Severine meets her first customer, Mr. Adolphe—oddly enough, a candy salesman.  After having his way with "Belle," Severine returns home and fantasizes again—this time with her husband and Husson standing over a cold pot of soup "that never warms up."  They are surrounded by a herd of cattle and Pierre asks Husson if bulls have names like "cats."  Husson says they are called "remorse and expiation."  The bulls symbolize male genitalia, the cats symbolize female genitalia, while the cold soup symbolizes Severine's frigidness towards her husband. Husson asks Pierre what time it is. Pierre replies, "It must be between 2 and 5, not later than 5," a reference to Severine's "day job."  The men then lob mud at her, call her names like slut and whore while she's bound to a post—smiling throughout the ordeal. 
            We flash forward back to Anais' apartment.  Belle has been gone for over a week and begs for her job back.  She gets it back, tries to please "The Professor," a regular customer who's into domination, but can't because she likes to receive punishment, not administer it.  She then has sex with a Chinese customer, which is then immediately jump cut into a scene with a little girl, presumably Severine, but again Buñuel blurs the reality lines.  The girl could be the maid's daughter, but it could also be a Severine stand-in.  Buñuel uses this in the mise-en-scene by having the girl show off her report card, complete with a B in history and an A in languages.  This surrealistic moment could mean Severine is overcoming her past inhibitions and learning to "communicate" those urges by serving the customers.
            Severine continues to be disturbed by Husson.  He invites himself over to her house but is immediately sent away.  She fantasizes again—this time she and Husson have sex right under her husband's nose.  She tells Pierre they are passing a letter full of lily seeds.  The seeds tie back to earlier in the film where Severine asks Pierre if he's ever visited a whorehouse.  He says "Not often," and asks her why she's asking.  She says she wants to learn more about her husband and he then replies, "Semen retentum venenumest" (roughly translated: 'My seed unbends and poisons you').  In other words the seeds are killing her inside.
            The conflict within Severine's head comes to a head, of sorts, with an imaginary duel between Pierre and Husson.  Both men shoot at each other, but surrealistically miss their intended targets.  Pierre's bullet strikes Severine in the head.  She bleeds to death kissing Pierre.

Belle's power triangle
            The conflict Severine faces with Pierre and Husson takes a third angle of attack.  She falls in love with a young thug, Marcel, who falls for her while on a trip to Anais' place.  They make love and she offers her services for free.  He replies many other women have given it up to him for free also.  She's attracted to him because he's had a rougher life than she, and has the scars to prove it—the missing teeth, the stab wounds, etc.  Time passes without the two lovers meeting.  Marcel meets up with Belle again and threatens to beat her.  She turns around and tells him if he does, she will never see him again.  He complies.  Marcel cannot live without Severine, so he has her stalked and threatens to expose her to Pierre.  She refuses, causing Marcel to shoot Pierre, crippling him, and losing his own life in the process.
            What Buñuel does with this love triangle narrative is ingenious.  He turns the ideological male domination on its ear by actually having Severine gain power through her physical and mental relationships with these men.  She may still be the victim overall with her tortured psyche, but she is in control of all three men.  She keeps her boy-scout husband at arms length, longing for children—she keeps Marcel on a short leash and away from her husband—and she keeps feeding Husson lust each day that he can't have her while only having him once in her mind.  She even controls Anais on some level because she manipulates Anais through innocence and later pity.   

Belle's ideology
            It should not go without notice that Buñuel has a rather pointed view against bourgeois ideology.  He embodies this in his characterization of Husson.  He is an elitist who has too much money and time on his hands (he freely admits this in the film's beginning), he has a predatory nature (he likes to hunt, therefore use those who he feels are beneath him) and when he can't get what he wants, he acts childish (a trait he associates with those who haven't had to work for a living).  We can take Mulvey's theory and do with it what Buñuel did with Severine's power play—we can reverse it.  The camera work might have been from a male point of view, but we see what Severine sees, therefore viewing the film from the female perspective.  She holds the cards and knows how to play them.  She's left at the end in control of her husband's life, both real and surreal.
            Buñuel plays into exposing bourgeois ideology by not filming anything in the dark or at night.  Every scene plays out during the day with plenty of adequate lighting.  The only exceptions are the rain scenes, but they are gray, not black.  In fact, the only mention of darkness occurs at the café where Severine meets the Duke.  He mentions his cat, "Dark Beauty," and says the afternoon sky has a "dark sun," but we never see darkness.  This man lives in the dark recesses of his own mind and expresses his subconscious desires by having Severine feign death.  She gets inside a casket—he "mourns" her passing and proceeds to masturbate underneath the casket.  The cat motif shows up when his butler asks "to let the cats in" and we actually hear a cat's meow within the diegesis.  Also we hear diegetic bell ringing at each encounter, which signals us that Belle will engage in real or surreal sexual activity.
            His camera shots are usually full shots with few close-ups.  However, he does something rather unique for a 1960s film.  He actually has the adult Severine and the child Severine occupy the same film space within the same film time.  This occurs when Severine quits her job for the final time.  Although the child appears less than 30 seconds, Buñuel keeps the audience off balance, therefore toying with our notions of what's acceptable to our beliefs in reality.

From surreal to sub-atomic
       
Image courtesy geneaologyreligion.net
Because aspects of dreams, consciousness and subconsciousness have been explored within the realms of late 19th and 20th century classical analysis, it is only fitting to offer a new perspective on the subject for the new century.  In 1989, noted quantum physicist Roger Penrose postulated that consciousness itself could be rooted in the sub-atomic world.  According to Penrose, consciousness is uncomputable, therefore impossible to replicate in a man-made machine. This is because, according to Penrose, the new laws of physics have not been discovered yet.  At present, we cannot teach a computer how to understand humor, cry after listening to music, or feel astonishment after watching a motion picture (Freedman, 94). 
            What we do know from quantum physics is a sub-atomic particle can exist simultaneously in several places all at once until that particle collides with matter or energy, causing it to "choose" one steady state that we can perceive on our level of existence.  Out of all these possibilities, we are able to perceive the one reality—or that one pattern that forms conscious thought (Freedman, 94). Along with neuroscientist and anesthesiologist Stuart Hameroff, who discovered a component of brain cells, called microtubules, where quantum consciousness very likely takes place—have been collaborating to solve this ultimate puzzle of where, how and perhaps why consciousness takes place.
            There are a large group of scientists, philosophers, and other nay-sayers who believe Penrose and Hameroff are wrong.  They very well might be wrong, but I propose (and I do so cautiously) that they are right. Why? Because what I've just written about different possibilities coming together to form one single thought already occurs in cinema. Look at how many different circumstances collide within the text of Amacord.
           Each provides the viewer with a complete, quirky yet coherent picture of a reality (the product) created by many other conscious beings that comes together within the consciousness of the viewer to form meaning, perceived as beauty, ugliness or good and evil.  Observe how different realities—surreal or otherwise—come together within Belle du Jour to give us the one reality that is Severine's diegetic life. 
It is this notion—from the many, the one (E pluribus Unum) that I wish to share with you. This notion may be as far from center as one can get, but what better place to explore this possibility than the dream world of cinema.

 © 2014 Martin Malacara


Works Cited

Bordwell & Thompson.  Film Art:  An Introduction, 6th ed.
            New York:  McGraw Hill.  2001.

Freedman, David H.  "Quantum Consciousness."
            Discover.  June 1994.  89-98.

Nowell-Smith, Geoffrey.  "Cinema and Surrealism."
1 Jan. 2002.  Movie Mail.  28 April 2003.  <http://www.moviemail.com/scripts/article.pl?articleID=85>

Sanchez, Monica.  "History of Surrealism."
            28 April 2003.  <http://www.gosurreal.com/history.htm>

Stevenson, David B.  "Freud's Division of the Mind."
Brown University.  29 April, 2003.
<http://www.victorianweb.org/science/freud/division.html>



Further reading

http://phys.org/news/2014-01-discovery-quantum-vibrations-microtubules-corroborates.html

The Emperor's New Mind: Concerning Computers, Minds and The Laws of Physics
book by Roger Penrose