increasingly possible ‘a polycentric imagining of the world, where no single centre monopolises the production and circulation of audio-visual images’ (257), Yoshimoto argues that such dispersal or decentring is not reflected in film studies itself. Instead, the discipline is prone to a ‘false universalism’ (260), applying unduly to multiple cinemas around the world the commentary it generates on the single case of Hollywood. Thus to begin a discussion of filmindustries with Hollywood, rather than with a different example from globally scattered production, would seem to
Government and Industry Assess the Audience, 1948–54
Who were the French who wouldnt go to movies? The question was a vexing one in France
after the Second World War, to which the film industry and the national government
sought answers. In 1948 the Gaumont Film Company commissioned a survey of who went to
the movies, who didnt, and why. In 1954, the Centre National de la Cinématographie,
acknowledging La crise du cinéma, published an ominously titled Inquest about movies
and the French public. Thus audience studies in France took on national importance,
and created a sociological and psychological profile of viewers that could be used to
enhance business practice and government policy.
The Position of Women in Post-War Japanese Cinema (Kinema Junpō,
Alejandra Armendáriz-Hernández and Irene González-López
In contrast to the canonical history of cinema and film theory, often dominated by
academic texts and Western and/or male voices, this article presents a casual
conversation held in 1961 between four of the most influential women in the post-war
Japanese film industry: Kawakita Kashiko,,Yamamoto Kyōko, Tanaka Kinuyo and Takamine
Hideko. As they openly discuss their gendered experience in production, promotion,
distribution and criticism, their thoughts shed light on the wide range of
opportunities available to women in filmmaking, but also on the professional
constraints,and concerns which they felt came along with their gender. Their
conversation reveals how they measured themselves and their national industry in
relation to the West; at times unaware of their pioneer role in world cinema. This
piece of self-reflexive criticism contributes to existing research on both womens
filmmaking and the industry of Japanese cinema, and invites us to reconsider
non-hegemonic film thinking practices and voices.
Cecil Court and the Emergence of the British Film Industry
Cecil Court is a small pedestrian passageway in the London Borough of Westminster.
Under its more famous name of Flicker Alley, it is also the mythic birthplace and
romantic heart of the early British film industry. This essay sets aside romantic
myths and adopts the economic theory,of agglomeration, using the film businesses
moving in and out of Cecil Court as a case study to demonstrate the changing patterns
within the industry. In doing so it charts the growth patterns and expansion of the
British film industry from 1897 to 1911. It shows its development from its origins,in
equipment manufacture, through to production and finally to rental and cinema
building and outfitting, marking the transition from its small-scale artisan-led
beginnings into a large and complex network of distinct but interlocking film
The outsourcing of film shoots has long been adopted by US producers to cut costs and
improve box-office performance. According to the academic literature, outsourcing is
exploited mainly for low- and middle-budget films, but this article aims to
demonstrate that blockbusters are also migrating towards other states and countries
to take part in an even more competitive film location market. It investigates 165
blockbusters released between 2003 and 2013. The collected data show that blockbuster
shoots are not an exclusive to California, but are re-drawing the map of film
production in favour of an even more polycentric and polyglot audiovisual
Featuring more than 6,500 articles, including over 350 new entries, this fifth edition of The Encyclopedia of British Film is an invaluable reference guide to the British film industry. It is the most authoritative volume yet, stretching from the inception of the industry to the present day, with detailed listings of the producers, directors, actors and studios behind a century or so of great British cinema. Brian McFarlane's meticulously researched guide is the definitive companion for anyone interested in the world of film. Previous editions have sold many thousands of copies, and this fifth instalment will be an essential work of reference for universities, libraries and enthusiasts of British cinema.
This book is about the British film director Terence Fisher. It begins by setting the context by detailing Fisher's directorial debut to Hammer's horror production and the importance of the Hammer horror to Fisher's career. Hammer's horror production represents one of the striking developments in post-war British cinema. The book explains some professional and industrial contexts in which Fisher operated and shows how these relate both to the films he made and the way in which these films have been judged and valued. It presents a detailed account of The Astonished Heart, Fisher's sixth film as director, highlighting the benefits and some of the problems involved in thinking about Fisher's career generally in its pre-horror phase. The successful Hammer film, The Curse of Frankenstein, both inaugurated the British horror boom and established Fisher as a film-maker whose name was known to critics as someone who specialised in the despised horror genre. After The Curse of Frankenstein, Fisher became primarily a horror director. The book presents an account of the highs and lows Fisher faced in his directorial career, highlighting his significant achievements and his box-office failures. It also shows Fisher as a director dependent on and at ease with the industrial and collaborative nature of film-making. In a fundamental sense, what value there is in Terence Fisher's work exists because of the British film industry and the opportunities it afforded Fisher, not despite the industry.
This book offers introductory readings of some of the well-known and less well-known feature productions coming out of Australia since the revival in the national film industry at the end of the 1960s. The interpretations of the texts and the careers of their makers are considered in relation to the emergence of an indigenous film culture and the construction of national identity. The majority of the films examined in the book have had theatrical or video releases in the UK. The independent development of several indigenous film genres has been an important feature of recent production, and helped to punctuate and bracket the streams of feature production that have evolved since 1970. These Australian genres have been identified and evaluated (the Australian Gothic, the period film, the male ensemble film) and are worthy of consideration both in their own right and in their intersection with other conventionalised forms. These include science fiction, fantasy and horror in comparison with the Gothic, the heritage film and literary adaptation in connection with the period film, and the war film and rite of passage in relation to the male ensemble. More recently, an aesthetic and thematic trend has emerged in the examples of Strictly Ballroom, The Adventures of Priscilla, and Muriel's Wedding, which foregrounds elements of the camp, the kitsch and the retrospective idolisation of 1970s Glamour. Such chronological, stylistic and thematic groupings are important in the interpretation of national filmmaking.
In a pair of interviews during the 1970s, Karel Reisz himself acknowledged this clear line of continuity in his work, he always thought of himself as a cinematic auteur, but stressed that it was a continuity of neither British nor Czech sensibilities. Like many exiles and outsiders, Reisz was able to balance an emotional investment in his adoptive country with the ability to remain critically distanced enough to recognize and then de-familiarize the cultural tropes that make it tick. Given his lifelong affinity for outsiders and exiles, it is clear that Reisz's personal background is crucial to any understanding of his cinema, not only because of his own exile from Nazism and subsequent displacement into a foreign culture. Because of his graduation into film-making from the academic world of film criticism, a realm largely alien to many of the veterans of the British film industry. The book discusses the 'kitchen sink' realism of the Angry Young Men, the birth of the British New Wave, and the Gorilla war. Morgan is an important film in the Reisz canon, not only because it reinforced his continued move away from the last vestiges of social realism associated with the first British New Wave, but also because it was his first truly self-reflexive film. The book also discusses Momma Don't Allow, We Are the Lambeth, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, Night Must Fall, The Gambler, Dog Soldiers/, Who'll Stop the Rain, The French Lieutenant's Woman, and Everybody.
One of the first commentators to attempt a balanced reassessment of Pagnol was Cahiers du cinéma founder André Bazin, who in his 1959 classic Qu'est-ce que le cinema? devoted a chapter to the filmmaker as part of an extended reflection on the links between theatre and cinema. Bazin broke new ground by rejecting the longstanding tendency to dismiss Pagnol's work as the cinematic recycling of theatrical convention and by recognising the value of subordinating image to speech. This book offers the first comprehensive, scrupulously documented, and unapologetically critical reading of Pagnol's cinema. It highlights his singular contribution to classic French film as an auteur and businessman while at the same time evaluating the larger cultural and aesthetic stakes of his movies. Rather than adopting a strictly chronological approach, the book traces the emergence of Pagnol's signature style in theatre and presents an epilogue that surveys the afterlife of his work in France since the mid-1970s. It discusses the definitive opening up of Pagnol's theatrically inspired cinema and his maturation from dramatic author into bona fide screen director. While Pagnol battled to defend and perfect his signature brand of cinématurgie, he simultaneously pursued an alternative production model that rejected both theatrical convention and contemporary film industry practice by shooting feature-length pictures on site in the Provençal countryside. The success of Pagnol's business model was unmatched in 1930s French cinema, offering industry insiders and the general public welcome proof that their nation could not only defend its unique cultural identity against Americanisation.