Alternative Theory

Becoming the Gamepad: How the Video Game Genre Gives the Illusion of Agency

Since the release of Rocky Morton and Annabel Jankel’s Super Mario Bros. in 1993, a new cinematic genre slowly developed: the video game film. While this genre may take on many forms, what each movie has in common is its relationship to video game techniques or aesthetics. Some directors merely adapt existing video games for the screen, with films like Tomb Raider (Uthaug, 2018) or Uncharted (Fleischer, 2022). Others borrow several audio and visual elements commonly found in games. Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) is a perfect example of the latter. In this video, I took almost every video game element from the film and showed it next to its source material. For the final paper, I argue that hypermediacy and remediation are what make viewers feel more connected to the film, giving the illusion that they are actually playing a video game. Wright’s unnatural and hypermediated style of filmmaking attaches the spectator to the content and actively involves them in the movie-watching experience. There is a certain dependency on the viewer acknowledging references and conventions to feel more immersed in this video game type of universe. By editing a fast-paced hypermediated video myself, I directly demonstrate the ways in which Wright relies on video game aesthetics and how closely the film content relates to a viewer’s knowledge of popular gameplay. Not only does this video show the true familiar origins of Scott Pilgrim, but it also demonstrates how these video game qualities become generally recognizable even outside their realm of construction.

All examples come from the video game series: Super Smash Bros., Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, Super Mario Bros., No More Heroes, Marvel’s Spider-Man, Forza, Guitar Hero, Soulcalibur, The Legend of Zelda, and Sonic.

Münsterberg and the Subjectivity of Memory

From this week’s readings, I particularly enjoyed Hugo Münsterberg’s “Why We Go To The Movies.” In summary, the psychologist reflects on film (which he calls “photoplay”) as its own artistic form, very distinct from painting, photography, and specifically theater. While he does recognize film’s potential in education and documentation, Münsterberg ultimately believes that cinema’s greatest strength lies in its capacity to evoke emotions in its audience and affect their thought processes. The onscreen visualization of memory is another major element in the author’s argument, emphasizing the absence of the constrictions of time and space. By being able to piece together scenes in different locations and time periods, it resembles and almost reproduces the inner workings of memory.

In István Szabó’s Lovefilm (1970), the protagonist’s memories and fantasies guide the film. The mix of Jancsi’s real and imagined events put the viewer in the mind of the character. These images of his time with Kata blend with his innermost desires, confusing what is truly real with what he wishes to be real. What was additionally quite striking to me about Szabó’s film is the childlike romanticization depicted through memory. Some scenes have unfortunate circumstances but are still presented in a sweet, light-hearted fashion. For example, the moments when Jancsi and Kata, as children, must share a solitary plate of food due to the hardships of poverty and Hungarian wartime conditions take on an almost tender quality from the character’s perspective. If this same scene were depicted through a mother’s viewpoint, it would surely be more grim. In Jancsi’s eyes, however, it is more of a moment of friendship and bonding. All of these childhood moments are portrayed through the eyes of love. This demonstrates Münsterberg’s argument of the true power of film.

Scott Pilgrim Vs. Crank

After watching Brian Taylor and Mark Neveldine’s Crank (2006) and reading Lorrie Palmer’s “Cranked Masculinity: Hypermediation in Digital Action Cinema,” I thought it would be interesting to further explore the idea of hypermediation in cinema. In her journal article, Palmer connects hypermediation to hypermasculinity. Action films, video games, and technology in general are all typically male-coded. In Taylor and Neveldine’s film, this combination of media and fast-paced filmmaking tehcniques paired with an androcentric narrative gives the film a hypermasculine quality. However, this style of filmmaking does not always solely cater to men. Hypermasculinity is not necessarily a product of hypermediation, it is the content and treatment of women in Crank that make it so male-oriented.

Other films like Run Lola Run (Tom Twyker, 1999) and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (Edgar Wright, 2010) both favour this video-game style, multimedia filmmaking format, yet they are still appealing to a female audience. Run Lola Run (also known as Lola Rennt) is very comparable to Crank for its same ticking clock and video game do-over plot devices and its hypermediated style of filmmaking. Tom Twyker blends animated sequences into the film adding to this video-game aesthetic. He also integrates a sort of butterfly effect by showing different snapshots of random characters’ lives every time Lola interacts with them differently. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World favours a comic book/video game style since it is adapted from Bryan Lee O’Malley’s graphic novels. Scott acknowledges his video game character status by getting rewarded for his actions throughout the film. When he completes a positive action, he unlocks a new power that adds to his combat strength. When he loses the final battle with Ramona’s ex-boyfriend Gideon, he gets a do-over by taking accountability for all of his negative actions and earning the “power of self-respect.”

What differentiates Crank from Run Lola Run and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, is its clear favouritism of a male audience. Run Lola Run has a female protagonist who is the only person that can save her boyfriend after he loses a big sum of money. She runs to every location, so her physical ability is most highlighted, as is usually done in action films with male main characters. In Wright’s film, Scott Pilgrim is an awkward, average-looking man in his 20s. He is not a typical muscular hero à la Jason Statham. All of the female characters are essential to the plot. Knives and Ramona specifically show just as much strength and combat ability as Scott in the final boss sequence. So, while hypermediation can be associated to hypermasculine filmmaking, it can also be used to attract a female audience.

Works Cited
Palmer, Lorrie. “‘Cranked’ Masculinity: Hypermediation in Digital Action Cinema.” Cinema Journal, vol. 51, no. 4, 2012, pp. 1–25. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23253574. Accessed 13 Mar. 2024.

Body As Identity

After watching Pedro Almodovar’s The Skin I Live In (2011) and reading Xavier Reyes “Skin Deep? Surgical Horror and the Impossibility of Becoming Woman in Almodovar’s The Skin I Live In,” I found myself reflecting on society’s obsession with the corporeal. While this text emphasizes the possibility of a clear disconnect between body and self, it does not seem to equally consider the obsession with the body as self. In the beginning of this text, the author mentions that Almodovar’s film fits into the discourse of the commodification of women’s bodies. Reyes brings up Susie Orbach’s idea of “beauty terror,” where the achievement of beauty is essentially impossible due to a constant need for improvement. His main focus, however, seems to be the separation of interior and exterior. In The Skin I Live In, Vera/Vicente does not incorporate this new imposed physicality to their identity. This pushes the conception that gender identity is completely separate from the body.

While I do agree with all of Xavier Reyes’ arguments, there seems to be a lack of consideration on the importance of appearance to a person’s selfhood. A simple physical feature can be crucial to one’s mental health and their battle with gender identity. For instance, certain women deal with alopecia, which can cause severe psychological impacts including anxiety, depression, and a lack of confidence. Breast cancer survivors who must undergo mastectomies or double mastectomies also often suffer through body image issues. These feminine-coded features can thus play a role in gender identity. With the massive rise of cosmetic surgery, keeping up appearances seems to be crucial in today’s culture. Not fitting into the beauty standards can be so mentally taxing that plastic surgery is the only way to feel worthy. For certain transgender individuals, the sight of a body that does not match their interior selves can be debilitating. When Vicente sees a picture of himself in the paper, he clearly longs for his past self. This makes the ending unclear on whether he will accept his fate in this new skin. Reyes poses the questions “will he live his life as a lesbian woman, as the last scene seems to suggest? Or is this going to be a much more nuanced case of a man desiring a woman through a woman’s body? Perhaps a lesbian man? Or a man who will need corrective surgery to embody masculinity again?” (829). Thus, while our identity is so much more than our mere appearance, the body can play a major role in the conception of self.

Works Cited
Reyes, Xavier. “Skin Deep? Surgical Horror and the Impossibility of Becoming Woman in Almodóvar’s The Skin I Live In.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies, vol. 90, no. 7, Jan. 2013, pp. 819–834, https://doi.org/10.3828/bhs.2013.50.

A Touch of Spice/Πολιτική Κουζίνα

Last week’s screening of Tassos Boulmetis’ Touch of Spice/Πολιτική Κουζίνα (2006) as well as Dimitris Eleftheriotis’ chapter “A Touch of Spice: Mobility and Popularity” greatly resonated with me due to my Greek heritage. In one of the opening scenes, the long take across the landscape immediately struck me due to the mix of Greek Orthodox and Muslim imagery. The loss of Hagia Sophia remains a sore topic, especially with its recent conversion into a mosque. To have this church/mosque as one of the first images that introduces the audience to Fanis’ childhood environment is a great use of symbolism that encapsulates the tensions between Turkey and Greece. While the religious themes are not overly emphasized, they remain a main cause for the film’s efficacy and success. Following the Greek genocide during World War I, in which Greek Orthodox civilians were either murdered or forced to flee Asia Minor by the Ottoman Empire, religion evidently emerged as a significant source of pride. This sentiment is sprinkled throughout the movie, especially in the scene where Fanis’ father cries about the five seconds he spent contemplating converting to islam in order to stay in Constantinople/Istanbul. We truly see the importance of religion in Greek identity due to the father’s expressed immense guilt. In one of the later scenes, the moment in the church when Fanis helps the old man light a candle reinforces this theme. Throughout my life, I never fully recognized or appreciated the importance of religion to my own heritage. Seeing this full-circle moment onscreen struck an emotional chord, bringing a newfound appreciation for all those times I dreaded going to church for hours on end with my grandparents.

While religion is a sensitive topic to explore, Boulmetis does so in a way that does not feel overly nationalistic, as argued by Eleftheriotis. There is a great amount of care put into the execution of these themes. Turkey is never villainized and there is a strong feeling of acceptance and understanding between the two countries by the end of the movie. Eleftheriotis explains that this film also aided with Greek-Turkish reconciliation. Overall, Πολιτική Κουζίνα is the first time that I have felt any sort of cultural recognition onscreen. Seeing such a film in an American context has really proved Dimitris Eleftheriotis’ point that the director brought Greek cinema to the twenty-first century.

Stevie Paraskevopoulos, Photograph of the Greek flag at the Acropolis in Athens, Greece.

Works Cited

Eleftheriotis, Dimitris. “A Touch of Spice: Mobility and Popularity.” Greek Cinema: Texts, Histories, Identities, Intellect, Bristol, 2012, pp. 17–36.

Jane M. Gaines & The Two Presents of Feminist Film Theory

For this week’s discussion on feminist theorists, I chose to focus on Jane M. Gaines. She is an award-winning author and currently a professor of film at Columbia University. While I have studied some of her work in the past, the article “Film History and the Two Presents of Film Theory” piqued my interest after the “Visual Historiographies” course from last semester.

The author begins by introducing new discoveries made in the Federation of International Film Archives and other special collections. In essence, there is proof of many female creatives working in the film industry during the Silent Era. Several women, in Hollywood and national film industries alike, have been documented working in production, direction, exhibition, and distribution. Some even started their own production companies. Gaines, then, questions the presence and disappearance of these women through time. She comments on the prevalent development of feminist film theory in the 1970s and the historians/authors’ choice to ignore this particular historical truth. If feminist theorists mostly examine the oppression of women but film historians celebrate women’s contribution to the industry throughout history, then there is a clear and perhaps problematic contradiction. The author also comments on the strange timeline of cinematic historical research, noting that it appeared in the 1970s but was put on pause until the 1990s. The major question posed is “was historical interest eclipsed, interrupted, or postponed?” (114). This delay in the development of feminist historiography affects the field of feminist film theory, almost solidifying it as the dominant model. For Gilles Deleuze, the reconstruction of history is futile, for there are “two presents” (115). Sometimes, the rewriting of history is unnecessary unless it has an effective purpose. Why bring up traumas of the past if it does not help any cause of today?

In other words, it may be argued that this slight historical overlook is unproductive to consider since women have continued to be subjugated throughout film history, as is emphasized in film theory. However, it is very interesting to look at this alternative timeline and attempt to find the cause of this power change after the Silent Era. If women were once respected in the field, how and why did this drastic change come about? Examining the content and narrative structure of films made by women might also inform theories on the male and female gaze. Were women making films to satisfy a general public or were they making their voices heard? The study of past feminist film pioneers might then be useful in mapping out the beginning of the female gaze and also seeing how the male gaze prevailed.

Olga Petrova, founder of Petrova Pictures Company

Works Cited

Gaines, Jane M. “Film History and the Two Presents of Feminist Film Theory.” Cinema Journal, vol. 44, no. 1, 2004, pp. 113–19. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3661177. Accessed 26 Feb. 2024.

Response: Worldview of the Constructor

When reading Detroit’s thoughts on Lev Kuleshov’s essay, his example made me think of a YouTuber who documents drug users in California. As mentioned, @RawRicci415 uses a pessimistic tone in his videos, shaming his subject’s behaviour. Since he is the sole voice/creator behind these videos, he gets to influence his audience to see addicts in a negative light.

In contrast, @SoftWhiteUnderbelly, also known as Mark Laita, takes a more humanistic approach in his videos. He approaches struggling people on the streets and asks them for an interview. Laita films these interviews in a studio, removing the subjects from their harsh conditions and thus giving them a safe and respectful space to tell their stories. The interviewer asks them questions about their childhood, family lives, worldviews, and their history with drug abuse. The interviewees often have very tragic stories, but many still retain a glimmer of hope. The comments on these YouTube videos are very empathetic, some users even state that Laita’s videos help them stay clean. In other cases, viewers are adamant to help the subjects by finding family members to connect them to. Mark Laita also created a GoFundMe to help the 7,000 people he has interviewed. The Soft White Underbelly fund has now raised over 45,000$.

So, as Detroit mentioned, Kuleshov’s argument that montage reflects the worldviews of the creator is clear in these two examples. The manner in which Ricci and Laita edit their videos on similar subjects is dissimilar and therefore influences their audiences differently.

Thoughts on Béla Balàzs

In Béla Balàzs’ “The Close-Up” and “The Face of Man,” the film theorist emphasizes the power of facial expression. He first argues that audience identification is a major part of the movie-watching experience. Spectators connect to the characters onscreen through camera movement, point-of-view shots, and the overall illusion of reality through continuity. Balàzs credits the close-up for our enhanced emotional connection to the film’s characters and story. The close-up shot can capture a person’s true emotions through subtle facial movements since the details are on display for us to analyze.

While I do agree with Balàzs thoughts on the significance of facial expression for emotional impact, I had an issue with the lack of attention on the art of acting. In fictional films, the accuracy of expressions to convey emotion depend on the actor’s capability and talent. The final scene from La La Land (Damien Chazelle, 2016) came to mind when thinking about the subtlety and precision in facial acting. Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone give each other a bittersweet look of recognition, where they both acknowledge that they needed to be apart in order to achieve their dreams. Their shared gaze says more than words ever could, and it beautifully encapsulates the film. However, this scene would not succeed without the expertise of Gosling and Stone. There are many films where the love interests lack chemistry, making it difficult for the audience to connect. For instance, my personal hot take would have to be Robert Pattinson and Zoë Kravitz’s performances in The Batman (Matt Reeves, 2022).

Works Cited

Balàzs, Béla. “Béla Balázs: The Creative Camera; The Close-Up; The Face of Man.” Critical Visions in Film Theory, Bedford/St. Martin’s, Boston, Massachussetts, 2011, pp. 125–135.

What is Cinema?

The one moment that defines cinema to me is stumbling upon an outdoor screening of Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Eclisse (1962) in Bologna, Italy. The event was named “Sotto le stelle del Cinema”, which translates to “under the movie stars.” This serendipitous discovery allowed me to understand the true impact of cinema. The event took place in an open piazza, where every seat was occupied. Surrounding cafés and bars set up exterior tables where couples would drink a cocktail together or older men would sit alone to have their post-dinner espressos while enjoying the show. Ultimately, cinema is community. It brings strangers together and provides us all with an escape from reality. Even with the decline of theatre-goers, film still finds a way to connect people. The rise of Letterboxd has now encouraged film enthusiasts to become casual critics, many writing comical reviews for friends and other strangers to see. With the rise of technology and streaming services, watching movies in solitude has now become the new norm. However, there is something comforting about being emotionally impacted by a film and knowing you are not alone in your sentiments. Cinema is for the people, it makes us feel like we are a part of something bigger.

About Me

Hi, everyone! My name is Stevie Paraskevopoulos, and I am a 24-year-old Greek-Canadian from Montreal, Quebec. I have a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts in Film Studies from Concordia University. I intend to pursue further academic endeavours by obtaining a PhD, with the intent of becoming a film professor. For the last 8 years, I have been working in fashion and photography, currently running an e-commerce website.

My favourite films would have to be Donnie Darko (Richard Kelly, 2001), La La Land (Damien Chazelle, 2016), and Call Me by Your Name (Luca Guadagnino, 2017). My interests and research in film studies, however, have mostly revolved around horror and animation. My main focus is the evolution of the slasher genre and its tropes, as well as the importance of audience identification tactics in films like Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978) and Scream (Wes Craven, 1996). Building upon the film theories of Carol Clover and Laura Mulvey, my research has been grounded in their concepts. I am eager to delve deeper into the psychology behind audience identification and dissect how filmmakers must adapt to the changing youth. I also look forward to this semester’s Film Theory course because I am curious to see its potential contribution to my upcoming thesis research. In recent years, animation has also piqued my interest with Spider-Man: Into the Spider Verse (Ramsey, Persichetti, Rothman, 2018) and Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse (Dos Santos, Thompson, Powers, 2023). Though I think these films will have a much more identifiable impact after the release of the final movie of the trilogy.