Film-Philosophy
Journal | Salon | Portal (ISSN 1466-4615)
Vol. 7 No. 27, September 2003
Jamie Clarke
The Parallax Review:
On _Endless Night: Cinema and Psychoanalysis, Parallel Histories_
_Endless
Night: Cinema and Psychoanalysis, Parallel
Histories_ Edited by Janet
Bergstrom Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1999 ISBN 0-520-20747-5 (hbk);
0-520-20748-3 (pbk) 307 pp. The volume of essays
_Endless Night_ was born out of a conference entitled
'Psychoanalysis and Cinema: Parallel Histories' at UCLA in
November 1993. The conference was designed to mark the
hundred year anniversaries of the two pursuits, and to bring
together film scholars and practising psychoanalysts in
order to rub the two historical lines together and spark
debate in what has been increasingly considered a somewhat
beleaguered enterprise. Yet as Janet Bergstrom admits, in
her excellent Introduction, the conference itself provoked
an overriding sense of non-convergence, with the
understanding that 'the reasons that psychoanalysts reflect
on the cinema are not the same as those that motivate film
theorists to draw on psychoanalysis' (1). However, it is
Bergstrom's consideration that this very incompatibility
need not be experienced as a catastrophe, but moreover
signals that this particular area remains a fecund zone for
research. It is in this context that _Endless Night_
surfaces with 'unfinished business' (2), as Bergstrom puts
it, not so much like the traumatic return of the repressed,
but in a more modest fashion as a further specialised sector
of film enquiry rendered more fireproof from its engagement
with the clinical extra-academic community. Bergstrom details that
psychoanalytic film theory 'has renewed itself over time and
remains one of the most vital areas within contemporary film
theory' (2). This assertion seems to me to require
unpacking. Cine-psychoanalysis, throughout the 1970s the
hegemonic school alongside Althusserian Marxism, has come
under a sustained attack from more historically sensitive,
social science inspired paradigms of film analysis, most
notably cultural studies and more recently the cognitive
psychological approaches of 'Post-Theory'. In parallel,
clinical psychoanalysis has been overtaken by behavioural
psychology and pharmo-therapy. The renewals and evolutions
within film studies and psychoanalysis in this context are,
as much as anything, a response to fighting a rearguard
action against more normative approaches, and I would argue
that the consensus now is that the psychoanalytic paradigm
is largely residual. As a consequence of these
countervailing tendencies, there is something of a
splintered and uncertain focus to the volume with a number
of the contributions ruminating on the collapse of the
cine-psychoanalytic paradigm; a number providing close
readings of specific texts using psychoanalysis as a
decoding instrument; a handful speculating on Freudian
psychoanalysis's (coincident?) historical interrelationship
with (or as it turns out non-convergence with, or outright
avoidance of) the historical development of cinematic
technologies; and finally, Slavoj Zizek's article that
surpasses the properly cinematic paradigm in an analysis of
the new cyber-subject, with its ramifications for the
hard-shelled, corn fed Oedipal subject presupposed by the
Classical cinema. I shall take each of these on their own
terms. Zizek's 'Cyberspace, or
the Unbearable Closure of Being' involves a complex and
theoretically dense analysis of the effects of digital
technologies and virtual reality on subjectivity, that
hinges on the exchange of imitation for simulation. Zizek
revisits a series of philosophical commonplaces from Plato's
cave, through Hegel's suprasensible effect, to Lacan's
theory of anamorphia, to argue that these produce an
interface between 'himself and his raw natural environs'
(99). However, Zizek repudiates the proto-Baudrillard
argument that this condemns the subject to a relativisitic
nihilism by stipulating that this effect is not accelerating
but is rather a trans-historical effect of all technologies.
In this respect his position is closer to Derrida's than he
himself often allows, whereby, 'there is no Spirit without
Spirits, no pure spiritual universe of Ideas without the
obscene' (99). Where Zizek claims to differ from
deconstruction is in his argument that simulation, by
drawing attention to its own computated reality effect,
demonstrates more effectively the plastic and contingent
nature of reality itself. This then prompts Zizek to reject
both the referential argument (of some stable support in
reality) for representation, and the converse understanding
that there is no external reality beyond the stream of
simulacra. For Zizek acknowledgment of this essential,
mediatory, phantasmatic support is then the route to
'('dialectical') materialism' (99) and the early Marxist
understanding that the sensory ecology is
programmable. However, whilst Zizek's
ability to navigate between popular culture and high-flown
theory and philosophy often results in unexpected insights,
there persists the impression that his analysis can become a
little too free-wheeling, and Zizek himself a little too
enamoured with his own somersaulting rhetorical
argumentation. There can be little doubt that Zizek has a
exemplary understanding of the intricacies of Lacanian
theory, not to mention enlightenment and post-enlightenment
philosophy, however these are mostly deployed as explanatory
ends in themselves and their convergence (to use Bergstrom's
term) with the cinematic or digital technology as an
historical fact is often sidelined. For instance, Zizek's
analysis of the cyber-subject does not immerse itself in the
harsh realities of the actual production of digital
technologies nor the super-accumulation, consolidation, and
monopolisation of the likes of Microsoft and AOL Time
Warner. In this sense his claims to a dialectical
materialism are somewhat idealist, even superstructural.
Indeed, Zizek seems to bang these types of analysis out at
will and regular readers of his now prolific output will no
doubt recognise some of the themes that I have outlined
above. A similar problem stymies
the text-centred analyses in the volume, for instance Joan
Copjec's contribution on melodrama. Indeed Copjec is often
positioned alongside Zizek as providing the most sustained
commitment to contemporary cine-psychoanalysis as a paradigm
for making meaning. Copjec's avowedly contentious argument
is that 'crying was an invention of the late eighteenth
century' (249). To substantiate this claim Copjec relies on
the creation of a new type of space, namely public space,
that did not allow the specific particularities of the
cogito to be effectively symbolised. There does seem to be
an unacknowledged debt here to the more historically
sensitive work of the late Frankfurt School on the public
sphere, represented by Oskar Negt and Alexander Kluge, and
the more recent adaptation of the model by Miriam Hansen. In
this respect, it is my belief that Copjec attempts to
out-manoeuvre such material by situating the emergence of
psychoanalysis as the underside, obscene, in her terms
'unabsorbable' (252) remainder that failed to be satisfied
by the collapse of differences represented by the public
sphere. Crying in this respect emerged as a howl of
dissatisfaction with the consensus. I am hospitable to this
argument and certainly believe that it marks a corrective to
certain proto-Habermasian understandings of communication
predicated on rational interaction. Copjec then proceeds to
hook an argument that melodrama effectively attempted to
represent this repressed other where 'the lack of lack . . .
defines melodrama's excess. It's failure to construct a
world for its characters to inhabit' (260). She proceeds
with a close reading of _Stella Dallas_ that serves to
bulwark her argument. This example is convincing in itself,
but as a model of thematised reading I personally would want
more convincing that melodrama operated in the manner she
argues. I appreciate that this would be difficult to sustain
within the confines of a chapter, but having opened up this
area it is somewhat disappointing that Copjec ultimately
retreats into a largely subjective reading of an individual
text. Again, Ayako Saito's
article 'Hitchcock's Trilogy: A Logic of Mise en Scene'
deploys psychoanalysis to provide close readings of
Hitchcock's successive series of films _Vertigo_, _North by
Northwest_, and _Psycho_, arguing that they represent a
movement from the logic of melancholia through mania to
paranoia/schizophrenia. Saito provides a succinct
explanation that what she intends to do is not to diagnose
these films but analyse them in terms of affect. It seems to
me that this caveat is designed to admit that psychoanalytic
paradigms of reading individual films have been largely
torpedoed. In response she argues that affect is a
relatively uncharted area in cine-psychoanalysis given the
Lacanian antipathy to the term. She continues that: 'The
analysis of affect, then, lies in the process of analysing
the textual movement in which affects are manifested through
cinematic form and the structure of repetition.' (203) This
understanding then licenses Saito to argue that the
Hitchcockian trilogy of films enacts an ongoing repetition
and logical progression wherein affect is displaced
marginally through the three films from Scottie's
melancholia; through Roger's mania; to Norman's paranoid
schizophrenia. Certainly Saito argues her case well and the
attached notes were very valuable in uncovering an area of
psychoanalysis that this reader was comparably unfamiliar
with. Where I would problematise Saito's reading is that it
does seem to me that the Hitchcock canon often lends itself
too easily to psychoanalytic paradigms that testifies as
much to the climate of the late 1950s when psychoanalysis
was in its comparative heyday as much as any pre-existing
essential truth of psychoanalysis as a knowledge system.
Certainly I would have found it more interesting to see how
affect could inform more recent films that deal with mental
health such as _A Beautiful Mind_ or _Iris_ whose structure
seems designed to ratify more voguish understandings of
illness such as cognitive therapy. I would argue that a
similar historical problem then effects the reading of Janet
Walker in the volume. In her article 'Textual Trauma' she
draws parallels between the Freudian understanding of sexual
abuse as a fantasy and the excision of the topic of sexual
abuse from the films _King's Row_ and _Freud_ that come to
be regarded as 'dissociated texts' (182) on the basis of
this repression. As Walker understands, Freud's exploration
of fantasy is not to say that sexual abuse was a fiction but
rather that it had an entangled relation to experience that
was activated retroactively. However, the illicit cooption
of fantasy as fiction and sexual abuse as fiction then has a
profound impact on a feminist politics. As Walker powerfully
surmises, during the 1980s literature was produced that
'argue convincingly that in the United States somewhere
between 10 and 25 percent of children are subject to
childhood sexual abuse' (172). It is her argument that
attention to the symptoms in cinema where this incest taboo
is repressed can then inform and mobilise a feminist
politics. I agree with this absolutely. My only reservation
would be that, as with Saito, her texts relate to a very
specific moment in Hollywood history. It seems to me that
incest and sexual abuse have been somewhat fetishised more
recently -- in texts as diverse as _Festen_ and _Good Will
Hunting_ -- as the secret to be discovered. I would have
liked to know Walker's opinion on this more recent
phenomenon. Other contributions also
focus on John Huston's biopic of Freud, most obviously Peter
Wollen's 'Freud as Adventurer' and David James Fisher's
'Sartre's Freud'. For the most part these historically
precise reflections and elucidations on the production
history and intellectual background that underpinned the
emergence of Huston's film are more accessible and less
contentious than the other contributions detailed above.
Fisher details that although Sartre was a lifelong fan of
both cinema and psychoanalysis his own existential
philosophy had problems assimilating an unconscious which
'served to rationalise and create alibis for bad faith'
(127). As a consequence Sartre worked for 'a more
reciprocal, egalitarian model for what he called existential
psychoanalysis' (128). It seems to me that such a model is
more consistent with American ego psychology and more
tellingly perhaps with the ideology of the Classical
Hollywood narrative trajectory. However, both Wollen and
Fisher outline the problems that Sartre (who provided the
screenplay) and Huston had in working together (the only
thing that they apparently agreed upon was that Marilyn
Monroe be cast as Cecily Kortner, a decision that was thrown
out after an intervention by Anna Freud). Fisher proceeds to
analyse the film and demonstrate that Sartre's Freud
presents psychoanalysis as a model where the subject comes
to terms with their own alienation. Wollen takes a slightly
different track by arguing that the emphasis on ego
psychology in the film stems from the fact that Huston,
Freud, and Sartre all shared a certain self-possession and
conception of themselves as pioneers in their respective
fields (which in turn explains the problems in
collaboration). As Wollen writes, it was 'Freud the
adventurer' that John Huston 'admired, identified with and
saw as the object of the film' (155). The fact that Sartre
makes Freud's relationship with his father the central
dynamic in the film then resonates for Wollen. Sartre's own
father had died when he was only one. As Wollen details,
this then prompted Sartre to argue 'I have no superego'
(160). Wollen then makes the connection in parenthesis, 'is
this so very different from Huston's remark about the
unconscious which Sartre derided: 'In mine, there's nothing
at all'' (160). What emerges from both Fisher's and Wollen's
excellent articles is a clash of egos that to some extent at
least adulterates psychoanalysis as a model where the
subject is in conflict with itself. For Sartre at least, as
Wollen recognises, this was the product of his always uneasy
marriage of a somewhat liberal version of Marxism to a
bourgeois ethics. In a connected fashion
psychoanalyst Alain de Mijolla looks at the home movies of
Freud taken by his contemporaries, together with fiction
films like Huston's. If Wollen presents Sartre's Freud as a
crusading egocentric adventurer, de Mijolla's clinical
experience suggests to him that there is something radically
inconsistent between psychoanalysis and the cinematic
apparatus. For de Mijolla the drawn out temporality of
analysis simply does not lend itself to the accelerated
dynamics of the moving image. Mary Ann Doane's analysis,
'Temporality, Storage, Legibility', registers in a
Benjaminian mode how the production of modern technologies
had profound ramifications for the conceptualisation and
organisation of time itself. She writes: 'As Friedrich
Kittler has pointed out, the cinema and phonography held out
the promise of storing time at the same time that they posed
a potential threat to an entire symbolic system.' (58) Doane
then proceeds to determine how the psychoanalytic
understanding of time emerges in this context (and there is
a perceptible overlap with Copjec here) as a resistance and
blocking of the saturation of stimuli. Using Derrida, Doane
thus shows that, for psychoanalysis, memory, and by
extension the subject, emerges on the basis of its own
constitutive failure to totalise itself. Doane then moves to
an analysis of the photography of Etienne-Jules Marey, who
she sees as a precursor of film in that he undertook 'the
photography of film' (67) by capturing and sequencing bodies
in motion. There is something slightly obsessive about
Marey's project and it represents for Doane 'a dream of
representation without loss' (78) that again is
dialectically linked for her to the emergence of new
technologies of representation which, as she explains, both
Freud and Marey themselves rejected. Doane, as ever, is
insightful and clear. I would be interested in an expansion
of this theory to see how it would fit into a digital
understanding of representation and the overlaps in this
respect with the work of Sean Cubitt. In this regard her
article is complemented by Marc Vernet's 'The Fetish', an
article that looks at the consequences of digital
audiovisual technologies on the concept of the archive. As
head of the new library of film in Paris, Vernet argues that
there is a connection between the invisible in scoptophilia
(aka scopophilia) and the unknowable in film archives. He
argues that the loss of aura connected to the digital image
constitutes a blocking of desire, ensuring that the digital
text continues to be 'unattainable' (as in Bellour's famous
formulation). Janet Bergstrom's own
article on Chantal Ackerman argues that up to now critical
reflection on Ackerman's mother/daughter films has tended to
be read via the kind of feminist theory of the 1970s (most
obviously Irigaray and Kristeva in the psychoanalytic
tradition) that idealised communication between the
mother-daughter circuit. Alternatively, Bergstrom
compellingly draws attention to the fact that Ackerman's own
mother reportedly would never talk to her daughter about her
experiences as a Holocaust survivor. For Bergstrom this then
effects the mode of enunciation in her films where there is
a certain splitting between the represented world that seems
stylised. My personal favourite
article is Stephen Heath's lengthy 'Cinema and
Psychoanalysis: Parallel Histories', which takes a more
meta-institutional perspective on precisely why cinema and
psychoanalysis have been conjoined within the academy.
Indeed, with the exception of Bergstrom's Introduction,
Heath is the only contributor that admits to a crisis in
psychoanalysis and cine-psychoanalysis in particular. Heath
demonstrates that the leading pioneers of psychoanalysis,
from Klein to Freud himself, really tended to actively
dislike the cinema, and maintains that cinema tends to be
more enamoured with psychoanalysis than the other way around
(a fact confirmed by the distribution of papers in _Endless
Night_). As for cine-psychoanalysis, he explains of the
status of certain buzz terms, 'suture is no longer doing so
well, nor on the whole is fetishism; the phallus is mostly
holding up, while fantasy is fine but prone to disparate
appreciations; as for real and symptom, they have come up
strong indeed' (33). Heath proceeds to investigate the
reasons for these fluctuations and positions himself against
the backdrop of the _Screen_ journal project. If criticism
of cine-psychoanalysis usually stems from some accusation of
ahistoricism, for Heath, it is precisely because the
_Screen_ project was a politicisation of psychoanalysis,
together with the fact that cinema forced psychoanalysis to
pass through the social arena, that ensured its resolute
historicism. On the whole I would
recommend _Endless Night_ to anyone with an interest in the
field of cinema studies, although I am less qualified to
speak on behalf of the clinical community. I do believe that
the parallel lines of cinema studies and psychoanalysis need
to be re-negotiated and books such as this are an excellent
way to continue. It is my own belief that perhaps Doane, de
Mijolla, and Copjec go some way towards explaining the
non-convergence of the two lines, whereby there is a
dialectical relationship that sees psychoanalysis almost as
a refuge of the private, away from the hustle and bustle of
twentieth century experiences exemplified by their somewhat
invasive technologies. This tends to drive a wedge between
the understanding of the two whilst provoking a sense of
mutual fascination, with each conceptualised as the other's
underside that meet only ever at vanishing point. Sheffield
University,
England Copyright ©
Film-Philosophy 2003 Jamie Clarke, 'The
Parallax Review: On _Endless Night: Cinema and
Psychoanalysis, Parallel Histories_', _Film-Philosophy_,
vol. 7 no. 27, September 2003
<http://www.film-philosophy.com/vol7-2003/n27clarke>. Join the _Film-Philosophy_
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