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	<title>Screen Machine &#187; Conall Cash</title>
	<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv</link>
	<description>Film criticism and cultural commentary based out of Melbourne, Australia.</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2011 04:17:26 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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		<title>On not seeing films: Experience and Ideas in Criticism</title>
		<description><![CDATA[This paper is concerned with a gesture in film criticism so unabashedly perverse as to be perhaps difficult for us to take seriously: I’ll be talking about what it might mean for a critic to write about a film they haven’t seen. In considering some instances of this peculiar phenomenon in criticism, I hope to introduce a discussion of the (often untheorised) notion of experience as it is given to us in criticism, and to think about what it is that we do when we call upon this vaguely theological concept – for, the most immediately striking thing about the kind of criticism that writes without having directly encountered the object of analysis is its displacement of experience (the experience of having seen the film) from its position as the necessary origin and centre of the critic’s thought.
I’ll begin by considering a remarkable essay by the French critic Serge Daney, from 1992, called “The Tracking Shot in Kapo,” which raises this question of writing and not seeing quite starkly.
Among the many films I’ve never seen there is [Gillo Pontecorvo’s] Kapo. Am I the only one who has never seen this film but has never forgotten it? I haven’t seen Kapo and yet at the same time I have seen it. I’ve seen it because someone showed it to me — with words… I know it only through a short text: the review written by Jacques Rivette in Cahiers du Cinéma… entitled On Abjection.  
Rivette didn’t recount the film’s narrative&#8230;]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2011/08/29/on-not-seeing-films-experience-and-ideas-in-criticism/</link>
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		<title>MIFF reviews: Ruhr, Toomelah, The Kid With a Bike</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Reviews of films by James Benning, Ivan Sen and the Dardennes.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2011/08/04/miff-reviews-ruhr-toomelah-the-kid-with-a-bike/</link>
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		<title>Interview with Eve Heller and Peter Tscherkassky</title>
		<description><![CDATA[<i>Peter Tscherkassky</i>: This is one of the things which I will explain during the masterclass. It's a process which in my opinion could not be done with a computer. My example always is: I sit in the darkroom with my laser pointer, with the found footage in front of me, and I want to copy the face of Barbara Hershey [star of <i>The Entity</i>, from which Tscherkassky made two found-footage films, <i>Outer Space</i> and <i>Dream Work</i>]. So I sit there, and it's nearly completely dark, with just a tiny bit of red light. And I know the face is in this spot. So I copy it, and then move on to the next frame, and I vaguely remember where it was, so I start looking around. Where is it, where is it? Ah, here. -- So, I could never program a computer to go and look for Barbara Hershey's face -- but not immediately, to look around for it. This is one of the many effects, so to speak, where the manual process, the hand-crafted aspect, deeply informs what the film looks like. If you were to do that with a computer, it would look like an imitation of something, or I don't know… I'm quite sure it would have its own beauty, but it would look completely different from what I'm doing. Besides, by that time [by the time I've found the section of the frame where Barbara Hershey's face appears], I've created three scratches. You spend months and months with the footage, with the films, and you don't even start working until the material starts talking to you, asks you for something. And it's constantly talking to you while you're looking at it, for months. So, like in <i>Outer Space</i>, the sequence with the sprocket holes. This was something that came up just by chance. One day, by mistake, I copied one of the sprocket holes. So, OK, why not do it on purpose? And what happens if I lift it up, and what happens if I change the angle? There's a huge amount of chance involved, which also could not be done with a computer. Of course you can put some chance effects inside the computer, but still it would be something completely different.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2011/07/28/interview-with-eve-heller-and-peter-tscherkassky/</link>
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		<title>The Lightning of Possible Storms: Notes on the 12th Jeonju International Film Festival</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Sometimes I wonder how much I really like going to film festivals. Of course, I enjoy getting to travel to foreign cities to watch exciting new (and old) cinema, meeting and hanging out with other foreign critics, all at the festival's expense -- it would be outrageous and ungrateful of me not to. But fun and exciting as it is, still the experience even of a good festival (and South Korea's Jeonju International Film Festival, under review here, is, I think, one of the best) is often in some way unsatisfying. There are the obvious reasons, things many people who travel to festivals no doubt experience -- the discovery that going to three or four films a day quickly starts to resemble work, with its regulated hours and repetitive tasks; the narrowness of the world you are limited to when attending a festival in a foreign city, only dimly aware of your surroundings as you shuffle from one screening to the next; the realisation that you are, at the end of it all, simply a tourist, and as such cannot escape the boredom and fragility that are the essence of the tourist's experience. But there are two primary reasons for my ambivalence at attending film festivals -- the first, entirely personal one, is simply that when I'm at a festival I have to pretend to be a journalist (because, after all, it is as a journalist that I've been invited to attend). Pretending to be a journalist means pretending to know what's going on, to inhabit the contemporary moment (as Chris Fujiwara has written, "journalists work in the very factory of the contemporary, at its “heart machine”… They make the contemporary contemporary"), pretending to care about what the important films are this year and even about the awards; sometimes it even means interviewing and hobnobbing with filmmakers and other visiting artists, pretending to be a part of the festival 'world,' or of 'film culture'. I find this all perfectly impossible, but still I simulate the actions of the journalist or travelling critic (however ambivalently), because the drive to seek out interesting films keeps pushing me on to more festivals whenever the chance to go to one appears, where I find myself facing the same situation.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2011/05/17/the-lightning-of-possible-storms-notes-on-the-12th-jeonju-international-film-festival/</link>
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		<title>Top 20 Films of 2010</title>
		<description><![CDATA[If nothing else, this year's list confirms that we at Screen Machine are big Jesse Eisenberg fans (but then who isn't?). It perhaps shows other continuities from our 2009 list, indicating some of the approaches and prejudices we have as film critics and spectators. We hope that the pieces we've written on each of the twenty films that appear here are of greater use and interest to readers than the mock-suspense of learning what finishes in which position. Returning to these films now allows us to say things about them that we couldn't when they first appeared, and we think that these reflective pieces on the films of 2010 will offer plenty to discuss as we begin the new year.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2011/01/27/top-20-films-of-2010/</link>
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		<title>The Social Network</title>
		<description><![CDATA[David Fincher's <i>The Social Network</i> is by far the most interesting mainstream American film of this year. If the film ultimately feels like a disappointment, unable, despite its brilliance, to do to us what those depictions of obsession and monstrosity which are Fincher's masterpieces did, this can't be explained simply by the fact that those films were about serial killers and ultra-violence, while this is a film about Harvard computer nerds.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2010/11/13/the-social-network/</link>
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		<title>MIFF &#8216;10: The Strange Case of Angelica, Sex &amp; Drugs &amp; Rock &amp; Roll, Caterpillar, Nostalgia for the Light</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Conall Cash reviews two of the major films of the festival, by veteran auteurs Manoel de Oliveira and Koji Wakamatsu, while Maggie Scott looks at MIFF's closing night film and Ali Brown investigates Patricio Guzman's Nostalgia For The Light.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2010/08/14/miff-10-the-strange-case-of-angelica-sex-drugs-rock-roll-caterpillar-nostalgia-for-the-light/</link>
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		<title>She&#8217;s Out of My League</title>
		<description><![CDATA[In a previous generation it took the genius of a Fassbinder to reveal, in all its banal horror, the role of love as an instrument of capital; but for us today it seems to have required a couple of fools like writers Sean Anders and John Morris to demonstrate that, at our stage in late capitalism, love even as a function of state power has become dangerous and insufficiently controllable, and must be ruthlessly regimented in such a way that its auratic value is thoroughly ground down.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2010/04/24/shes-out-of-my-league/</link>
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		<title>Invictus</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
If there is one scene in Clint Eastwood&#8217;s Invictus that is sure to provoke derisive laughter from cynical viewers, it is that which occurs just before the film&#8217;s long climactic sequence detailing the events of the 1995 Rugby World Cup final between South Africa and New Zealand. In this scene, President Mandela (Morgan Freeman) touches down in a helicopter on the Springboks&#8217; training field, while they are going through their final drills the evening before the big match. As the President makes his descent, a simpering American pop ballad (by some band with the imbecilic name of Overtone) spells out the film&#8217;s themes of racial reconciliation and the unifying power of sport in thuddingly unsubtle terms: &#8220;It&#8217;s not just a game, you can&#8217;t throw me away / I&#8217;ve put all I had on the line&#8230; I&#8217;m colourblind.&#8221; Eastwood here once again shows his total unconcern for any possible accusations of hokiness, much as he did on last year&#8217;s Gran Torino when he chose to play his own half-sung, half-croaked rendition of the title song over the closing credits.
But the cynic&#8217;s scoffs at this moment may prevent him from hearing the crucial sound that persists throughout the rest of the scene, after Overtone&#8217;s dreadful song has melted away: this sound is the whirring of the propeller of Mandela&#8217;s helicopter, as it gradually slows down after landing. This loud, irritating whirring forces Mandela and his main interlocutor, the Springboks captain Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon), to speak loudly, and we ourselves find we&#8230;]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2010/02/08/review-invictus/</link>
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		<title>MELBOURNE CINÉMATHÈQUE 2010: An Interview with Michael Koller</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
(Jacques Demy, right, with his wife Agnès Varda. A Demy retrospective will screen at the Melbourne Cinémathèque in April. Varda&#8217;s film &#8220;Daguerreotypes&#8221; screens on March 24.)
This Wednesday, February 10, the Melbourne Cinémathèque will begin its 2010 season with a screening of two films by Max Ophüls, at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image cinemas. The program for the year, which can be found at the Cinémathèque website and in paper form at ACMI and the other usual outlets, features a weekly program of international cinema running until December. As always, the Cinémathèque program will be a major fixture in Melbourne film culture for 2010. This week I spoke to Michael Koller, one of the Cinémathèque’s programmers, about the year ahead.

This year the Cinémathèque is running several retrospective programs on some familiar heavyweights of world cinema – Federico Fellini (in March), Jacques Demy (April), Akira Kurosawa (May) and Milos Forman (June) – alongside programs on experimental (“Figuring Landscapes,” in March-April) and documentary cinema (a retrospective on the films of Raymond Depardon, in October). I asked Michael about how this balance between different kinds of cinema is maintained across the year-long program. “We do try to achieve some sort of a balance,” he says, “between the more commercial or accessible portion of the program, [and] the new rising stars, as well as those forgotten in the race to go elsewhere. There is always a balance of the populist &#8211; Kurosawa, Fellini, Godard, Tarkovsky&#8230; But,” he is quick to point out, “one&#8230;]]></description>
		<link>http://www.screenmachine.tv/2010/02/05/melbourne-cinematheque-2010-an-interview-with-michael-koller/</link>
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