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/ 15 Download this Document for Free [555]"free indirect discourse" is the systematic alignment of a thousand details ofthe world, which follow one another, undifferentiated, withoutcontinuity-solu tion, arranged in sequence with the cold and almost satisfiedobsession (typical of his amoral characters) of a disintegration reunified in anunarticulated langu age. Godard is a complete stranger to classicism otherwiseone could speak in his case of neo-cubism but we could very well speak of anatonal neo-cubism. Behind the narrative of his films, behind the long "freeindirect subjectives" which imi tate his characters' state of mind, there alwaysunwinds a mechanical and asymmet rical film, made for the pure pleasure ofrestoring a reality broken by technique and reconstructed by a vulgar Braque.The "cinema of poetry" as it appears sever al years after its birthcharacteristically produces films of a double nature. Th e film which one seesand receives normally is a "free indirect subjective" which is sometimesirregular and approximate in short, very free. This comes from the fact that theauthor uses the "dominant state of mind in the film," which is that of a sickcharacter, to make a continual mimesis of it, which allows him a great stylisticliberty, unusual and provocative. Behind such a film unwinds the other film theone the author would have made even without the pretext of visual mimes is withthe protagonist; a totally and freely expressive, even expressionist, fil m.Obsessive framings and montage-rhythms testify to the existence of thisunderly ing, unrealized film. Such an obsessive force contradicts not only therules of t he common cinematic language following a different and perhaps moreauthentic ins piration liberates itself from its function and appears as"language in itself," style.The "cinema of poetry" is therefore in reality essentially based on thesty listic exercise as inspiration, which is, in the majority of cases, sincerelypoe tic. This removes all suspicion of mystification as to the role of thepretext wh ich is that of the free indirect subjective."What then does all this mean?It mea ns that a common technico-stylistic tradition is in process of beingformed: that is, a cinema language of poetry. This language tends to appearhenceforth as dia chronical in relation to narrative cinema language: adiachronism which is destin ed to be emphasized increasingly, as happens inliterary systems.This emerging tr adition is based on the collection of cinematic stylemes whichhave been constitu ted almost naturally in function of the irregularpsychological characteristics o f the characters chosen as pretexts, or, better:in function of a primarily forma list world-view of the author ( informal inAntonioni, elegiac in Bertolucci, tec hnical in Godard). Expressing such an innervision necessarily requires a special language, with its technical and stylisticformulas simultaneously serving the i nspiration, which, as it is preciselyformalist, finds in them at once its instru ment and its object. The "cinematicstylemes" which have thus appeared and been c lassified in a tradition barelyestablished and still without norms unless intuit ive, pragmatic ones allcoincide with typical procedures of cinematic expression. They are linguisticfacts, which[556] therefore require specific linguistic expressions. Enumerating them amounts toou tlining a possible "prosody," not yet codified, in gestation, but whose rulesalr eady exist in potential (from Paris to Rome and from Prague to Brasilia).The pri mordial characteristic of these indications of a tradition of the cinemaof poetr

y consists in a phenomenon which technicians define normally and tritelyas "maki ng the camera felt." In sum, the maxim of wise filmmakers in force uptill the '6 0s "Never let the camera's presence be felt" has been replaced by itsopposite.Th ese two opposite points, gnosiological and gnomic, indiscussibly define theexist ence of two different ways of making films: of two different cinematiclanguages . . .But then it is necessary to say that in the great cinematic poems of Charli eChaplin, of Mizoguchi or of Bergman, the common character was that "you didn'tf eel the camera": they were not filmed, therefore, according to the laws of "thel anguage of the cinema of poetry."Their poetry resided elsewhere than in the lang uage considered as linguistictechnique. The tact that one did not feel the camer a in them means that thelanguage was adhering to the meanings by putting itself in their service: it wastransparent to perfection, did not superimpose itself up on the facts, did not doviolence to them with mad semantic deformations the very ones which are due to alanguage which is present as incessant technico-stylisti c awareness.Let us recall the boxing sequence in City Lights, between Charlie Ch aplin and achampion who is, as usual, much stronger than he is. The astonishing comedy ofCharlie's dance, his little steps taken a bit here and there, symmetric al,useless, overwhelming and irresistibly ridiculous, well, here, the camera was still and took just any long shot. One didn't feel it. Or again let us recallone of the last products of the classic cinema of poetry: The Devil's Eye, byBergma n, when Don Juan and Pablo leave Hell after three centuries and see theworld aga in: the appearance of the world--such an extraordinary thing--is filmedwith a sh ot of the two heroes against a background of somewhat wild springtimecountry, on e or two very common close-ups and a long shot of a Swedish panorama,overwhelmin gly beautiful in its crystalline and humble insignificance. Thecamera was still, it framed these images in an absolutely normal way. One didn'tfeel it.The poeti c character of the classic films was therefore not the fact of aspecifically poe tic language.This means that these films were not poetry, but narratives. Classi c cinema wasand is narrative, its language is that of prose. Its poetry is an in ner poetry,as, for example, in the narratives of Chekhov or Melville.Thus one fe els the camera, and for good reasons. The alternation of differentlenses, a 25 o r a 300 on the same face, the abuse of the zoom with its longfocuses which stick to things and dilate them like quick-rising loaves, thecontinual counterpoints fallaciously left to chance, the kicks in the lens, thetremblings of the hand-he ld camera, the exasperated tracking-shots, the breakingof continuity for express ive reasons, the irritating linkages, the shots thatremain interminably on the s ame image, this whole technical code was born almostof[557] an intolerance of the rules, of the need of unusual and provocative liberty, adi versely authentic and pleasant taste for anarchy, but it immediately becamelaw, a prosodic and linguistic heritage which concerns all the cinemas in theworld at the same time.Of what use is it to have identified and, in a way, baptized this recenttechnico-stylistic tradition "cinema of poetry?" A simple terminologicalc onvenience, evidently, and which is senseless unless one then proceeds to acompa rative examination of this phenomenon in relation to a larger political,social a nd cultural situation.Cinema, probably since 1936--the year Modern Times was rel eased--has always beenin advance of literature. Or at least, it has catalyzed, w ith an opportunenessthat made it chronologically anterior, the profound sociopol itical reasons whichwere to characterize literature a bit later.Cinematic neo-re alism (Open City) prefigured all the neo-realism in Italianliterature in the pos t-war years and part of the '50s; the neo-decadent orneo-formalist films of Fell ini or Antonioni prefigured the revival of theItalian neo-avant-garde and the ex tinction of neo-realism; the "new wave"anticipated the "school of the Look" in b rilliantly publicizing its firstsymptoms; the new cinema of some of the socialis t republics is the primordialand most remarkable datum of a reawakening of inter est in these countries for aformalism of Western origin, as an interrupted twent ieth-century motif, etc. Ina general framework, this formation of a tradition of a "language of poetry incinema" appears as the hope for a strong and general re sumption of formalism astypical and average production of neo-capitalism. (Natur ally, there remains thereserve, due to my Marxist moralism, of a possible altern

ative: i.e., of arenewal of the writer's mandate, which for the moment appears t o have expired.)Indeed, to conclude:(1) The technico-stylistic tradition of a ci nema of poetry originates in theclimate of neo-formalist researches, correspondi ng to the stylistic andlinguistic inspiration which has again become current in literary production.(2) The use of the "free indirect subjective" in the cinema of poetry is only apretext enabling the author to speak indirectly--through some narrative alibi--in the first person; thus the language used for the interior m onologs of thecharacter-pretexts is the language of a "first person" who sees th e worldaccording to an essentially irrational inspiration and who, to express hi mself,must therefore have recourse to the most brilliant means of expression in the"language of poetry."(3) The character-pretexts can only be chosen from the a uthor's own culturalcircle: therefore analogous to him by their culture, languag e and psychology:"exquisite flowers of the bourgeois class." If they happen to b elong to anothersocial world, they are always sweetened and assimilated via the categories ofanomaly, neurosis or hypersensitivity. The bourgeois class itself, in sum, evenin cinema, identifies itself, again, with all humanity, in an irrati onalinterclassism.All this belongs to the general movement of recuperation, by b ourgeois culture,of the territory it had lost in the battle with Marxism and its possiblerevolution. And this is a part of the somehow grandiose movement of the [558] evolution--we shall call it anthropological of the bourgeoisie, along the lineso f an "internal revolution" of capitalism, i.e. of a neo-capitalism, whichquestio ns and modifies its own structures and which, in the case which concernsus, re-a ttributes to the poets a pseudohumanistic function: myth and thetechnical awaren ess of form.[1] Among the features entered in the 1965 Pesaro "new cinema" festi val, whichis exclusively devoted to first works, were: Istan Gaal's Sodrasban (H ungary;awarded Filmcritica prize, best feature), Jerzy Skolimoski's Rysopis (Pol and),Ebrahim Golestan's Khesht o Avenech (Iran), Person's Sao Paulo S A. (Brazil ),Miguel Picazo's La Tia Tula (Spain), Paris Vu Par (16mm sketches by RouchChabr ol, Godard, Rohmer et al.; not in competition); among the shorts were:Peter Bald win's Some Sort of Cage (USA; Filmcritica prize, best short), andGianni Amico's Noi insistiamo (Italy), (Tr.) Pasolini, The Cinema of Poetry Download this Document for FreePrintMobileCollectionsReport Document Info and Rating Follow stajpi Share & Embed Related Documents PreviousNext p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p. p.

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