Throughout the nineteenth century, the term ‘uncomfortable houses’ was used to describe properties where restless spirits made life unpleasant for any living persons who tried to claim these supernatural residences as their own. This article uses the idea of ‘uncomfortable houses’ to examine how this ghostly discomfort related to larger cultural issues of economics and class in Victorian Britain. Authors such as Charlotte Riddell and Margaret Oliphant used the haunted house story as a means of social critique which commented on the financial problems facing many lower- and middle-class Victorians. Their stories focus on the moral development of the protagonists and reconciliation through the figure of the ghost, ultimately giving readers the happy endings that many male-authored ghost stories lack. Riddell‘s ‘The Old House in Vauxhall Walk’ and ‘Walnut-Tree House’ and Oliphant‘s ‘The Open Door’ serve as important examples of this ‘suburban Gothic’ literature.
The Handmaid’s Tale and the significance of unexpected choice
conflicting narrative requirements, are reconciled in the high-stakes context of the last act of a season finale episode. Although contributions to this reconciliation have a larger range of sources than June alone, the sequence examined here provides an effective demonstration of THT 's approach to this because of the extent to which this sequence develops the show's ‘overarching story’ and directly confronts the moral and emotional conflicts that this larger story entails for June. Whilst THT 's narrative progression is foregrounded most overtly in the changing actions
reconciliation, the works of Christine Angot offering something of a
paradigm here. Many texts treat this issue sensitively and creatively, but
some, in their use of graphic sexual detail (Angot once again exemplary)
blur the borderlines between a detailed and provocative exposure of child
abuse, and a collapse into the pornographic. On the furthest end of this
scale, there have also been some notably controversial texts, such as
This book explores the development of Robert Lepage’s distinctive approach to stage direction in the early (1984–94) and middle (1995–2008) stages of his career, arguing that globalisation had a defining effect in shaping his aesthetic and professional trajectory. It combines examination of Lepage’s theatremaking techniques with discussion of his work’s effects on audiences, calling on Lepage’s own statements as well as existing scholarship and critical response. In addition to globalisation theory, the book draws on cinema studies, queer theory, and theories of affect and reception. As such, it offers an unprecedented conceptual framework, drawing together what has previously been a scattered field of research. Each of six chapters treats a particular aspect of globalisation, using this as a means to explore one or more of Lepage’s productions. These aspects include the relationship of the local (in Lepage’s case, his background in Québec) to the global; the place of individual experience within global late modernity; the effects of screen media on human perception; the particular affect of ‘feeling global’; the place of branding in contemporary creative systems; and the relationship of creative industries to neoliberal economies. Making theatre global: Robert Lepage’s original stage productions will be of interest to scholars of contemporary theatre, advanced-level undergraduates with an interest in the application of theoretical approaches to theatrical creation and reception, and arts lovers keen for new perspectives on one of the most talked-about theatre artists of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.
Madchester may have been born at the Haçienda in the summer of 1988, but the city had been in creative ferment for almost a decade prior to the rise of Acid House. The End-of-the-Century Party is the definitive account of a generational shift in popular music and youth culture, what it meant and what it led to. First published right after the Second Summer of Love, it tells the story of the transition from New Pop to the Political Pop of the mid-1980s and its deviant offspring, Post-Political Pop. Resisting contemporary proclamations about the end of youth culture and the rise of a new, right-leaning conformism, the book draws on interviews with DJs, record company bosses, musicians, producers and fans to outline a clear transition in pop thinking, a move from an obsession with style, packaging and synthetic sounds to content, socially conscious lyrics and a new authenticity. This edition is framed by a prologue by Tara Brabazon, which asks how we can reclaim the spirit, energy and authenticity of Madchester for a post-youth, post-pop generation. It is illustrated with iconic photographs by Kevin Cummins.
Screening the Hollywood Rebels in 1950s Britain explores the relationship between classic American films about juvenile delinquency and British popular youth culture in the mid-twentieth century. The book examines the censorship, publicity and fandom surrounding such Hollywood films as The Wild One, Blackboard Jungle, Rebel Without a Cause, Rock Around the Clock and Jailhouse Rock alongside such British films as The Blue Lamp, Spare the Rod and Serious Charge. Intersecting with star studies and social and cultural history, this is the first book to re-vision the stardom surrounding three extraordinarily influential Hollywood stars: Marlon Brando, James Dean and Elvis Presley. By looking specifically at the meanings of these American stars to British fans, this analysis provides a logical and sustained narrative that explains how and why these Hollywood images fed into, and disrupted, British cultural life. Screening the Hollywood Rebels in 1950s Britain is based upon a wide range of sources including censorship records, both mainstream and trade newspapers and periodicals, archival accounts and memoirs, as well as the films themselves. The book is a timely intervention of film culture and focuses on key questions about screen violence and censorship, masculinity and transnational stardom, method acting and performance, Americanisation and popular post-war British culture. The book is essential reading for researchers, academics and students of film and social and cultural history, alongside general readers interested in the links between the media and popular youth culture in the 1950s.
Soft stardom, melodrama and the critique of epic masculinity in
Thomas J. West III
lacks even the desire to do anything other than survive. Gone is the restless, rebellious spirit of Heston which so impressed the Roman commander Arrius that he had the slave brought to his chambers. Thus, while Heston’s onscreen suffering never seems to assault his granite-like masculine persona, Huston’s does precisely that, rendering him receptive to the purifying spirit of Christ – and the message of forgiveness and reconciliation that he represents – that will become a key part of the film’s second half.
Indeed, this film eschews the earlier practice of leaving
Rien ne va plus does include self-conscious,
auteurist references to Chabrol’s earlier films, such as
Juste avant la nuit (the wintry setting, the shot of the oval mirror,
the stained handkerchief), Les Noces rouges (the handcuffing together
of the two protagonists) and Betty (the reconciliation at the end to
the strains of Michel Jonasz). But it places itself above all in the genre
of the comic spy/ caper movie
screenplay based on Gillian Slovo’s
novel about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in post-apartheid South Africa. Kennedy Martin’s screenplay for Red Dust (BBC 2,
9 July 2005) is a sensitive and skilful adaptation of Slovo’s novel, in
which Sarah Barcant (Hilary Swank), a white South African lawyer,
returns to South Africa, on the request of her mentor Ben Hoﬀman
(Marius Weyers), to represent ex-ANC activist turned politician Alex
Mpondo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) at a Truth and Reconciliation hearing where
ex-policeman Dirk Hendricks (Jamie Bartlett) is requesting amnesty
History, legend and memory in John Sayles’ Lone Star
to help a new generation of wetbacks, it triggers her memory of crossing
and draws her to a point of reconciliation with that past. Although she
has no desire to go ‘home’ to Mexico with her daughter and
grandson, who has a ‘Tejano roots thing’, Mercedes will
ultimately choose to help Enrique and his fiancée cross to the US,
showing the ‘mercy’ her name suggests.
Similarly, Sam investigates the history