Referring to one or more non-US/European ‘national

cinemas’ of your choice, critically examine Stephen Crofts'

national cinema model

Stephen Crofts’ model of nation-state cinema seems to be rooted in

Andrew Higson’s ‘The Concept of National Cinema’ (1989), whereby it is
understood that nation state-cinemas should be defined not only in terms
of ‘the films produced by and within a particular nation state’, but also in
terms of distribution and exhibition, audiences, and critical and cultural
discourses. Croft suggests nine factors which should be considered
when analysing nation-state cinemas: production; distribution and
exhibition; audiences; discourses; textuality; national-cultural specificity;
the cultural specificity of genres and nation-state cinema ‘movements’;
the role of the state; and the global range of nation-state cinemas.

Taking into account all of the above categories, Croft differentiates types
of nation-state cinema by presenting a model that distinguishes eight
varieties of cinema. These are United States cinema; Asian commercial
successes; Other entertainment cinemas; Totalitarian cinemas; Art cinemas;
International co-productions; Third cinemas; And sub-state cinemas.

Here I will attempt to explore Crofts’ category of Totalitarian cinemas in

context to Chinese cinema.

Crofts sets out the categorisation of three industrial modes of production

in his model: industrial, cultural and political (anti-state). This section is to
explain how they work independently from one another with their own
methodology and criteria for production. What becomes obvious, something
which Crofts is quite aware of, is the blurring of these boundaries into one
another, becoming inter-related and inter-dependant with regards to the
countless films that incorporate a mixture of various aspects found in each
of these categories. Films such as Zhang Yimou’s Hero (2003), whereby it
contains an industrial mode of production and distribution, in the sense that
it is ultimately a capital generating genre film (or even a multi-genre cluster
of action/martial arts, detective and romance) aimed at entertaining and is
reliant on international distribution channels. At the same time it fulfils
certain art house criteria in its narrative structure and cinematography, as
well as relying on ‘independent’ film festivals to garner specific art-house
publicity and distribution channels. This highlights the use of various modes
of distribution.

“Since in those early days the conviction prevailed that foreign markets
could only be conquered by artistic achievements, the German film industry
was of course anxious to experiment in the field of aesthetically qualified
entertainment. Art ensured export, and export meant salvation.” (Kracher,
1974: 65)

This has obviously changed somewhat, as industrial and economical

factors are increasingly impinging on artistic creativity. Though surprisingly,
artistic achievement is still a major fundamental factor for both domestic and
international distribution. Although many Sixth Generation Chinese films
struggle to find international distribution channels, many still gain recognition
through international film festivals, especially those films from the previous
Fifth Generation. The fact that there are a growing number of film festivals
catering for such films is testament of the growing popularity of provocative
creativity in cinema.

One may ask what of the political mode of production and distribution?
Here lies a rather large grey area. It was the Tiananmen Square
demonstration and massacre of 1989 that politically defined the Sixth
Generation filmmakers – an event that still is so politically sensitive and so
brutal that those of the Sixth Generation can rarely visit it in their art as
those of the Fifth had done with the Cultural revolution. Now at the
beginning of a new century, more and more young directors are producing
films outside the state-owned studio system in various ways, engaging the
youth culture and urban life, and stylistically, turning their backs on
elaborate allegories. For example, Zhang Yuan’s Beijing Bastard (1992),
uses amateur actors and hand-held cameras, preferring less artificial mise-
en-scenes and avoids dramatic intensity.

With regards to the Sixth Generation director Zhang Yuan’s debut film,
Mother (1990) - about a woman’s frustration at looking after her retarded
son without social help or sympathy, an ignored aspect of Chinese urban life
- was banned, but later, having won the Special Jury Prize at the 1991
Nantes Film Festival and gaining further recognition abroad, brought interest
domestically. In 1997, it was aired on Beijing cable TV. This example
highlights that even in state controlled cinemas, there are nevertheless
those who will push the boundaries and navigate themselves around the
industry, rejecting state dictated nationalisms.

The Sixth Generation are a perfect example of filmmakers that have

rejected both these state dictated nationalisms, as well as the government
funding available to mainstream films. Instead, they attracted private
Chinese investment, rather than the overseas funding established Fifth
Generation directors would garner.

This suggests that in certain nation-state cinemas, such as the

seemingly open and minimal state intervention in industries such as
Hollywood, there is nevertheless numerous examples that can deconstruct
this theory. Likewise, in this interpretation of state-controlled cinemas, there
are indeed numerous examples that will contradict, perhaps even more so
with regards to state-controlled cinemas, as the will to express the nation’s
discontent is likely to be strong, especially in a country that is torn between
the constant flux of its economy and its cultural identity, such as China.

Crofts describes the mode of production in Third cinemas as

‘…clandestine, fugitive, and makeshift, so its politicized mode of address

endangers its target audiences, and its typically agit-prop documentary
genres serve its anti-state politics.’ (Crofts, 1998: 391)
It is the films produced by Third World countries that he is pointing to,
though many films that come under the Totalitarian category will also cross
over here. Films that fulfils this perfectly would be films such as Nelson
Pereira dos Santos’ Vidas Secas (1963) and Fernando Solanas’ La Hora de
los Hornos (1968). But surly this indicates more the political climate, lack of
funding and limited distribution channels, rather than the particular political
motivations, which to be fair, is not isolated in its motivations in
implementing ideological discourse. In fact much of the Sixth Generation
filmmakers emerging out of China are actually echoing a similar scenario as
those indicated here.

Is Crofts addressing the mode of production here or vehemently giving

his view on the effect of the mode of discourse? Because this area, needs
to be thoroughly explored and examined before coming to some kind of
formidable conclusion. For example, there are numerous docu-films that can
fulfil this criterion without even being considered to be placed in this
category. Many Americans would probably want to place Michael Moores’
work in this class, though due to the very nature of its production, it wouldn’t
fit. Interestingly, the mode of production on a film such as the Blair Witch
Project can most certainly be described as ‘clandestine’, ‘fugitive’ and
‘makeshift’. This only really leaves those films whose production is politically
audacious, has no state or any real funding available to it, and which is
inherently indigenous in its ‘otherness’. Here, I believe, is the point. So
where exactly does that leave us in defining an all encompassing model for
differentiating types of nation-state cinema, whereby the very nature of the
cinema which makes up half of the world’s feature films, is described as ‘…
typically agit-prop documentary genres’ (Crofts, 1998: 391)?

This seems to be alluding to an irrational fear. For if it can be seen to ‘…

endanger its target audiences’…’ with ‘…its anti-state politics…’, then it can
equally be said that it can also assist those states by suggesting that these
politicised modes of discourse is proving merely reactive, polarising and
segregating itself from the state, alienating their radical politics, ideologies
and themselves from the masses at large who have adopted the safety of
common culture. Whether this proves to be attractive or repellent depends
on whether it can penetrate through the mind of the masses and
communicate to the individual.

‘The horizontal dimension…covers state regulation and intervention in the

sectors of production and distribution and exhibition, and the explicit or
implicit nationalism’s advanced by the cinemas involved…The government
subsidy to production which characterises Hollywood, Asian commercial
successes, and to a lesser extent other entertainment cinemas finds echoes
in the general lack of intervention in the distribution and exhibition…This
contrasts with totalitarian cinemas, whose states control production…and
which intervene strenuously in distribution and exhibition…’ (Crofts, 1998:
391)

Croft seems a little naïve with this interpretation of state intervention as

there are many cases that deconstructs this argument. Firstly there are
many films that fall into the typical Hollywood category, but are nevertheless
under state scrutiny, perhaps even more so due to its wide reaching
exposure, both domestically and internationally. Take, for example, the
threats of removing the use of the Black Hawk helicopters due to differences
with the script between Ridley Scott and the U.S. army during the filming of
Black Hawk Down (2001). On the other end of the scale, which concerns
state regulated (and state funded) films such as Hero (2003) and especially
with regards to Yellow River (1984), both contain explicit nationalistic
representations, with the preaching of a collective ideology, they both
nevertheless harbour a more covert message of the sacrifices that have to
be appropriated in receipt of this, something which questions rather than
seduces – despite the rigorous scrutiny of censorship in China.

“In Yellow Earth, the omnipresence of the earth itself overshadows and
dwarfs the humans living on it. Clearly presented in a Taoist cosmology that
believes that humans can only prevail by harmonizing with nature, the
grand earth image in the film contrasts Chinese culture in two ways: first,
revolution that defies human will, and second, with the Chinese peasants’
livelihood that has been overpowered by the domination of nature” (Kuoshu,
2002: 215)

This highlights the multi-directional current of state intervention and the

apparent contradiction to this model, which is too wooden in its structure to
explain the sophisticated methods of both state and auteur.

With regards to Zhang Yimou’s Hero (2003), here we have evidence of a

national cinema being utilised to bring in revenue, as well as being a vehicle
for a nationalistic identity, whether used domestically or internationally. This
reflects Hollywood’s strategies in film production. What makes this
interesting, is that national cinema aesthetics/discourse can be utilised for
both financial and ideological/political purposes, but also films that are
seemingly focused on commercial/economic reasons are also subject to an
injection of ideological discourse. This highlights the ambiguity not only of
the purpose of film production across the globe, but also the identity of
nationalistic cinemas. This inevitably turns full-circle and we now have to
attempt to tackle and define the notion of a national identity and the
relentless nature of the de-culturalisation process that is globalization.

“…a world conceived as bound together by a universal history; but also the
universalization of an egalitarian concern with doing justice to particularities
and differences, with humanity…the rise of the modern national-state, in
which the particular characteristics of a national integration process have
been generalised into a model of social integration, in which society
becomes the key frame of reference for sociology, is gaining wider
acceptance” (Featherstone,1990: 3)
 The effects of globalisation are continuous and irreversible. It may even
be perceived as a process that is innate; necessary if cultures are to
homogenise, adapt and survive within their immediate environment, which
inevitably includes ‘others’. There are those who are aware of this process,
needing to distinguish themselves from ‘others’, in an attempt to cling onto
what is discernible of their ‘identities’, that if they let go, they will become
lost in a sea of chaos.

“Ideologies of this type respond to the problems and conflicts of an evolving

modern society, but they remain rooted in a pre-modern context, inasmuch
as they operate with ‘totalitizing conceptions of order’, and when the
credibility of the latter is irreversibly undermined by the modernizing
process, the result is a ‘fragmented consciousness’ rather than a new form
of ideological discourse” (Arnason 1990: 208)

Chow suggests that the notion of an authentic cultural identity is no more

than an ideological construct (Chow, 1995) The economic motivations of film
industries, such as Hollywood, to attract as wide an audience as possible
can be juxtaposed against films that may come under the categories of art
cinema or national-cinema. Through attempts to question ideologies,
practices, institutions, etc. in the belief of benefiting the greater population, it
has to stand outside of itself, to observe objectively, and through this mode
of critique, it isolates itself from the ‘chorus’. This mode of discourse
gradually turns into a independent/subjective perspective, the ‘auteur’s
vision’, something which questions and critiques, becoming disengaged with
the currently accepted standards of society. This can be seen in the
dichotomy of a capitalist spirit opposed to the socialist equivalent: the
realisation/disillusionment of one’s ‘self’, independent from his/her
environment. Perhaps this can be interpreted as a necessary struggle of a
cultural identity, the symbiotic relationship of the individual and the
collective.

Interestingly, although economically speaking we are seeing an increase

in the effects of globalisation, we are also seeing a rise in a conservative
nationalism in politics across the globe, counter-acting ‘otherness’ in their
cultures, as if in a cultural identity crisis.

“A world of competing national cultures seeking to improve the ranking of

their states, offers the prospect of global ‘cultural wars’ with little basis for
global projects of cultural integration, lingua francas, and ecumenical or
 cosmopolitan ‘unity through diversity’ notions, despite the existence of the
necessary technical communications infrastructures.” (Featherstone 1990:
10)

21st century technologies such as the World Wide Web and freely
accessible telecommunications on various levels, has increased the pace of
globalisation, though has also increased tension between those
constitutions that are trying to retain their individually recognisable
nationalities. Here Crofts seems sceptical of these technological advances.

“…the possibility of distinguishing product with nation-state cinema labels is

threatened not just by the increasing number of international co-
productions, but also by developments in electronic and fibre-optic delivery
systems with their encouragement of indiscriminate channel-zapping and
image-mixing” (Crofts 1998: 393)

This statement seems to struggle with his earlier quote of Willemen, where
he states

“…a cinema addressing national specificity will be anti- or at least non-

nationalistic, since the more it is complicit with nationalism’s homogenising
project, the less it will be able to engage critically with the complex,
multidimensional and multidirectional tensions that characterise and shape
a social formation’s cultural configurations…” (Willemen 1994: 211-212)

Crofts here seems conflicted about where he stands with regards to the
function of nation-state cinemas. If nation-state cinemas are to continue to
be politically critical and remains ‘the only cinema that consciously and
directly works with and addresses the materials at work within the national
constellation’ (Willemen, 1994: 211-212), then the developing technology
that he describes will only assist this continued refinement of culture, if not
depend on its continued evolution, regardless of the chosen mode of
production.

Culture is something that Crofts does not engage conclusive with,

something that is more than necessary in the light of a model that tries to
define modes of production in nation-state cinemas, an industry that is
culturally/politically motivated. The limitations of Crofts’ model is its inability
to address and contain the chaotic flow of culture, something which reflects
those nation-states that struggle to maintain their national identities, is ever
more prominent in the light of globalisation. Although Crofts is aware of the
cultural issues affecting production, it can be said that that this is not entirely
Crofts’ aim, as he tries to focus on the industrial and economical dynamics
of these nation-state cinemas. But as we have just explored, culture is not
something that can be refined and separated from any stage of cinema. And
why isn’t the factor of audiences given more consideration? Surly this is an
integral area that should be fervently explored. The movement of film
criticism has moved from absolute definitions of codes and structures
relating to specific genre interpretations to predict audience preferences, to
an altogether deeper exploration into the audiences psyche to further
engage with what it is that truly draws viewers to watch certain films, which
invariably drives those industries regardless of economical or political
motivations.

But this relies heavily on the theory that audiences are passive and have
no say in what is digested; that audiences can only be considered by their
numbers in terms of box-office statistics. Does the viewer not project as well
as introject? Can the cinematic experience be considered an interactive
one? Perhaps this is open to debate, though through observation it seems
that audiences are becoming increasingly media literate and sophisticated
in reading between the literal, metaphorical and allegorical lines. Perhaps
even, audiences are smarter and actually more independently motivated
than was originally anticipated.

References

Crofts, Stephen (1998) and Willemen, Paul (1990) Oxford Guide to Film
Studies John Hall and Pamela Church Gibson (Eds.) Oxford: Oxford
University Press

Kuosha, Harry H. (2002) Celluloid China Illinois, Southern Illinois

University

Featherstone, Mike (1990) and Arnasson, Johann P. (1990) Global

Culture: Nationalism, Globalization and Modernity Mike Featherstone
(Ed.) London: Sage Publications Ltd.

Krachauer, Siegfried (1974) From Caligari to Hitler: a Psychological

History of the German Film Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press