Third world cinema

Antes de começar qualquer debate sobre o processo de significação que realmente produz sentido para nós, aqui no sul da América em um país chamado hoje "emergente", é interessante levarmos em conta que a noção de avanço não parece querer dizer, como muitos tendem a pensar, um progresso-e mesmo no país na pragmática desse termo moderno, os EUA. Lá mesmo a noção de avanço tecnológico, visto como algo bem mais corriqueiro que para nosso deslumbramento, o permanente tecnological advance deve-se a uma atmosfera de competição mundial já consolidada, e de certa forma até levada com certa ludicidade pela esfera comunicacional, entre designers e publicitários, imposta por um ritmo de modernização de outros países distantes da América, que levam a industrialização muito mais a sério, como Alemanha e Japão-os tais "perdedores" da segunda guerra mundial. Avanço, então, possui teor competitivo global-a sofisticação tem referências não só na realidade da nação, na materialidade econômica inerente aos cálculos feitos por especialistas em finanças. Principalmente o Japão, nessa luta pelo avanço houve algo de sobrevivência e honra, após o exemplo histórico do fim da segunda guerra, e principalmente depois da guerra da Coréia: As cidades de Hiroshima e Nagasaki foram ambas destruídas por uma única bomba atômica. Um grande número de cidades japonesas, com as conhecidas exceções de Kyoto e Nara, antigas capitais do Japão, sofreram com bombardeios: nas 119 cidades bombardeadas, 2,2 milhões de casas (cerca de 20%) foram destruídas e 9 milhões de pessoas ficaram sem lar. (HAYASHI, 1990, p.6) Hoje, no século seguinte a esse contexto, a sociedade mundial se diz globalizada, segundo os administradores norte-americanos, e os concorrentes não são apenas internos.

Ghanaian hand-painted movie posters were a commercial art form that flourished between the mid-1980s and late 1990s designed to advertise films for mobile ‘video clubs’ that developed in the coastal region near Accra. These ‘video clubs’ showed films from around the world. Nominally, most of these hand-painted posters are based upon the existing advertising imagery associated with the films, however, in nearly all posters, there are elements of inaccuracy and embellishment, ranging from a lack resemblance to the actors and minor spelling mistakes to the addition of explosions, monsters and depictions of cannibalism, that were not only absent from the ‘official’ images but were also absent from the advertised films. I examine this interplay between the appropriated imagery of Hollywood films, displayed in ‘official’ images, the films themselves, and the elements introduced by the poster artists to appeal to a Ghanaian audience. I argue that the types of films chosen for screening, and the subsequent posters commissioned to advertise them were informed by and reflective of the socio-cultural preoccupations of a cross-section of the Ghanaian urban lower and middle class. Principal amongst these preoccupations is the struggle of maintaining a moral and ‘modern’ Christian life, while faced with the temptations and interference of immorality and demonic forces. I argue that the underlying unity of the subject matter of the films is the struggle between Good and Evil. As good will always be triumphant this creates a element of safety absent from the real world and allows a lingering, voyeuristic fascination with the forbidden world of horror, violence, cannibalism, blood and sex, which is epitomised by the choice of films and emphasised in the posters.

In the last fifty years an extensive bibliography has discussed The Hour of the Furnaces (1968) and the inseparable proposal of Third Cinema (1969). In this chapter I will focus on a less explored aspect: the film’s journey in non-commercial, alternative or militant circuits linked to the student and workers movement in the first world throughout 1968 and the immediate following years. 
    The Hour of the Furnaces and the manifesto Towards a Third Cinema can be inscribed, as it is well known, within a wider period, the so-called long 60s. After the pioneer essay by Fredric Jameson (1984) on this period – that according to him could be tracked back to sometime in the second half of the 1950s and could be extended until 1972-1974 – many other authors used the same concept and proposed different periodizations. As far as I am aware, the ‘widest’ locates the origins of the long 60s at the beginning of the Algeria War (1954) or the Bandung Conference (1955) and its ending in the Sandinist Revolution (1979). Of course, it is a periodization that takes into account also the idea of the global 1960s inasmuch as the 1960s account for the expansion of a common sensibility at an international level that tries to cover a wide range of processes of rebellion, revolt, insurrection and revolution in a number of countries around the world. That temporal extension (long 60s.) and geographical (global 60s.) is quite apt to think about The Hour of the Furnaces in its national and international context. Although its world premiere took place amidst the revolts of 1968, at the same time, it is possible to find the conditions that made the film possible as far back as the middle of the 1950s. And this not only because its third worldism dialogues with Algeria and Bandung, but also because 1955 is the year of the civic-military coup against the government of General Juan Domingo Perón in Argentina and the beginning of the so-called “Peronist resistance” against successive governments. The whole of the second part of the film, sometimes disregarded by academic accounts, concerns itself precisely with Peronism and “the Resistance”. At the same time, we can extend its ‘sixties’ influence until the end of the 1970s. In this respect, we can take also as a significant fact the almost forgotten dossier organised in 1979 by Guy Hennebelle and the group CinémAction for the magazine Tiers Monde (1979) about the influence of the film and the manifesto in several countries around the world.
    As it is well known, in the 1980s, and even in later periods, the film and the document were revisited in new manifestos, events and proposals in different places. Although, from my perspective, the historical period of The Hour of the Furnaces (and of Third Cinema) had already concluded even in those years, its ideas (cinematic, political) could still dialogue without a doubt with oppositional and confrontational to power initiatives in many countries. In an important essay on the “changing geography” of Third Cinema, Michael Chanan (1997) reconstructed, among other questions, the history of the film and of Solanas and Getino’s manifesto; some misinterpretations and modifications of the original definitions of the three types of cinema; the connections of the film with parallel movements in different countries; and the “transnational function” of Third Cinema. The author also addressed the subsequent recuperation of the thesis put forward by the film and the manifesto and their dialogue with other perspectives more or less similar in the 1980s. In particular, he wrote of the pioneer recuperation by the scholar Teshome Gabriel in his works at the beginning of the decade. He also focused on the well-known Third Cinema Conference held in Edinburgh in 1986, organised by Jim Pines and Paul Willemen that focused on the relevance of the concept of Third Cinema for the oppositional practices in film and video in the 1980s in the metropolitan centres of First World countries.
    In what follows, I will return over some of the testimonies and ideas included in those two moments of the debate around Third Cinema. (the CinémAction dossier of 1979 and the meeting in Edinburgh of 1986 ) and I will survey other less well known sources and documents such as catalogues from parallel distributors, letters, testimonies or press notes from those days. From there, I aim to look at the place that The Hour of the Furnaces occupied in the circuit of political and militant cinema in the first world, the debates it sparked, the polemics in which it took part . Of course, it will probably be an incomplete journey but I do not think it is a question of summarising that history but of continuing to explore it. 
(...)

Published in the book A trail of fire for political cinema (Javier Campo and Humberto Pérez-Blanco, eds.), Intellect, 2018; pp.135-158.

Mi texto escrito para mi ciclo (13 proyecciones) "La Tricontinental. Cine, utopía e internacionalismo" para el Museo Reina Sofía (Madrid).
My text written for my film program (13 screenings) "Tricontinental. Cinema, Utopia and Internationalism for Museum Reina Sofía (Madrid).

For more than three decades after its independence from France in 1956, Tunisia was ruled by Habib Bourguiba, a self-professed secular nationalist who sought to hitch the wagon of the young nation to the train of European modernity both socially and economically. While his era was marked by laudable developments in the area of women's rights, his reign was autocratic. He gradually but steadily tightened his grip on power (proclaiming himself president for life in 1975) until he was suddenly deposed by a bloodless coup led by Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali in 1987. Sustaining a steadfast Westward gaze yet suffering from an enduring neopatriarchal hangover, Bourguiba's contradictions cannot be overstated, not least because they have never ceased to inform the psychodynamics of manhood in postcolonial Tunisia. Bourguiba's rule over Tunisia (1956–1987) produced a breed of men that might be aptly called Bourguiba's sons. Suspended in a state of mutability that is simultaneously cultivated and frustrated, they have been able neither to come to terms with the challenges of modernity, of which gender equality is part and parcel, nor to relinquish fully the protective shelter of traditional patriarchy, in which male supremacy is the grantor of psychosocial stability. Modern Tunisian cinema is abundantly invested in unravelling the ways in which Tunisian men are stranded in the pull of neopatriarchy, even while attempting timidly or defiantly to break out of its moulds. Recent films by, among others, Moufida Tlatli, Nadia Fares, Férid Boughedir and Nouri Bouzid draw a markedly melancholy portrait of manhood. The challenges of modernity – not to mention those of women's rights, and now of the Gay International and of sexual politics writ large – have cast a grim shadow on traditional dimensions of manhood, masculinity, and sexuality. Melancholy manhood is born when a loss or crisis of old conceptions of manhood has taken place but has not been accompanied with the parallel and adequate psychosocial and hermeneutic readjustment necessary for its resolution. Were Bourguiba's modernity not parachuted on an already entrenched patriarchal apparatus, but rather flown from within its rhythms, generations of Tunisian men and women might have developed the psychic wherewithal whereby to participate in it in ways that would surely redound to their own and others' benefits.

This article traces informal world cinema networks at Soviet film festivals. It argues that the cultural diplomacy approach, where state objectives determine the value of cultural exchange, fails to account for the full range of connections made at Soviet film festivals during the Cold War. Personal ties have been crucial to the development of film festivals and the cinematic movements they engendered. The Soviet state aimed to position Soviet cinema as a better alternative to decadent European and commercial Hollywood cinemas, and as a model for film cultures in socialist Eastern Europe and decolonization-era Asia, Africa, and Latin America. This article first demonstrates how the Moscow International Film Festival (1959-present) and the Tashkent Festival of Asian, African, and Latin American Cinema (1968–1988; Latin America included from 1976) constructed a more inclusive map of world cinema than major European film festivals at Cannes, Venice, and Berlin. It then shows how African, Cuban, and Vietnamese delegations forged informal alliances around the emergent Third Cinema (militant Third World cinema) movement at the 1967 Moscow festival. Strong unofficial connections formed by international festival guests transcended and contradicted the aims of Soviet cultural diplomacy.

Abstract:
Some of the most important representatives of political cinema from around the world got together at the Rencontres Internationales pour un Nouveau Cinéma (Montreal, June, 1974). The list of participants
included: filmmakers, producers and ‘68 film groups from France and elsewhere; Latin American political filmmakers and representatives of a burgeoning African cinema; film critics, historians and producers; and members from film institutes and distributors from Europe and North America, including, of course, the Canadian organizers of the conference, André Pâquet and the Comité d'Action Cinématographique (CAC). Given the sheer number and diverse backgrounds of the participants, the Montreal conference holds a serious claim to being one of the most important worldwide events in political cinema of the period.
The most ambitious goal of the gathering in Montreal was to forge or strengthen ties among politically committed cinemas in the wake of the ruptures of 1968 in Europe as well as the emergence of Third Worldist filmmaking. The idea of an “Estates-General of Third Cinema”—an expression simultaneously referencing the events of May ’68 in France (Estates General of Cinema / Les États Généraux du Cinéma
Français), combined with the notion of Third Cinema—stemmed from this goal and was incorporated into several projects of the period.
In terms of the New Latin American Cinema, the documents and audiovisual records of the Rencontres… provide insight into this period of organization of filmmakers in the region. In the most common accounts of this historical moment, three key aspects revealed in the Montreal Documents are often ignored or attributed little importance: a) the fact that during the Rencontres, Latin American filmmakers had given shape to an initial group that is the immediate predecessor of the renowned Latin American Filmmakers’ Committee created in September that same year (1974); b) that the political relations among the most well-known Latin American figures (like Fernando Solanas, Edgardo Pallero, Walter Achugar, Miguel Littin, Julio García Espinosa) were wrought with tensions and conflict; c) that within the goal of organizing and forming a group of Latin American filmmakers, the Third Worldist
trends -seen in the gatherings in the Third World Cinema Committee meetings of Algiers (December 1973) and Buenos Aires (May 1974) and (in some way also) Montreal (June 1974)- were aimed at forming a Latin American Filmmakers Federation (FELACI) that would operate under or follow the example set by FEPACI (the Pan-African Federation of Filmmakers). This article focuses on these questions.
Notes on the audiovisual documents: While many of the Montreal meeting’s documents where initially compiled in 1975, the audiovisual recordings of the event remained invisible until a few years ago. In total there were fifty one video recordings, although only forty eight have been preserved. I found these recordings in the Cinemathèque Québécoise archives in 2012. Thanks to the kindness and collaboration of André Pâquet and Jean Gagnon—director of collections at the Cinemathèque—a digital transfer of 32 of the 48 tapes was made, financed with funds from a Research Project of the CONICET, Argentina. They are now available in DVD for public consultation in Montreal and Buenos Aires. In the summer 2013/14, I published a research dedicated to the Montreal meeting, as well as some documents, and a DVD with three hours of audiovisual recordings. (M. Mestman, Estados Generales del Tercer
Cine. Los Documentos de Montreal, 1974; Rehime, Volume 3, Buenos Aires, Summer 2013/2014).
These materials were presented and discussed in April 2014 at a symposium organized by Luca Camianti and Masha Salazkina at Concordia University (Montreal). The idea for the 2015 dossier of the Canadian Journal for Film Studies (edited with Masha Salazkina) was assemble in depth research on the themes and problems debated during the meeting, emerged from that encounter.

Bu çalışma, Arjantinli yönetmen Lucrecia Martel üzerine yapılan teorik tartışmalar ışığında, sözü edilen teorik literatüre ilişkin mevcut eleştirel perspektifleri geliştirmeyi amaçlamaktadır. Özellikle, üçüncü dünya sineması çerçevesinde anlaşılabilecek olan sinema tasviri ve çağrışımları üzerine odaklanmaktadır. Yönetmenin kendine ait kod kullanımları ile bir diyalog içine girerken, aynı zamanda Latin Amerika kültürel üretiminde ortak bir dili olan ‘Yeni Arjantin Sineması’ içindeki konumunu anlamaya yönelik olarak da okunabilir. Çalışma, hem yönetmenin sinema deneyimini çağrıştıran kodları açıklamayı hem de üçüncü dünya sineması içinde tanımlanan film anlayışları etrafında, kritik bir ‘kör noktayı’ düzeltmeyi hedeflemektedir.

Shaoib Mansoor is known for his critically acclaimed films like Khuda Ke Liye and Bol. Bol brings out the dilemma of person who is born hermaphrodite. It appeals for the equal rights for all human beings whether men, women or neutral. Mansoor is brilliant and optimistic in bright future for women and transgender.  It leaves viewers spellbound and shocked.

Photo-Essay included in: Framework 62, No. 1, Spring 2021, pp. 107–133. Copyright © 2021 Wayne State University Press, Detroit, Michigan //
https://www.frameworknow.com/news/journal62-1

Special Issue:
DOCUMENTING THIRD CINEMA (1968–1979): OVERLOOKED AND
LITTLE-KNOWN DOCUMENTS AROUND THIRD CINEMA
GUEST EDITORS: Jonathan Buchsbaum and Mariano Mestman  //

INTRODUCTION
Jonathan Buchsbaum and Mariano Mestman  //

ESSAYS
Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino
“Cine militante: una categoría interna del Tercer Cine” (1971)
“Militant Cinema: An Internal Category of Third Cinema” //

Group CinémAction
“L’impact du ‘troisième cinéma’ dans le monde” (1979)
“The Impact of ‘Third Cinema’ in the World” //

Octavio Getino
“Algunas observaciones sobre el concepto del ‘Tercer Cine’”(1979)
“Some Observations on the Concept of ‘Third Cinema’” //

PHOTO-ESSAY
Jonathan Buchsbaum and Mariano Mestman
Images of the Itinerary of the Group Cine Liberación and “Third Cinema” //

This special issue is dedicated to the memory of Octavio Getino (1935–2012), Fernando Pino Solanas (1936–2020) and Guy Hennebelle (1941–2003), artisans of Third Cinema and militant cinema across the world. -----------------------------------

Abstract:
The proposal of Third Cinema from the group Cine Liberación has had a broad impact on world political cinema since the end of the 1960s. The articles translated in this issue are three little-known but seminal documents that demonstrate how their thinking about radical filmmaking changed during the tumultuous years from the production of the film The hour of the furnaces (1968), beginning in 1966, through the years of clandestine distribution of the film and the escalation of the repression, to the violent coup d’état in 1976 installing the military dictatorship that forced Solanas, Getino, and so many others into exile. Anglophone readers have known the film and the manifesto “Towards a Third Cinema” (1969) since their completion through subtitled prints and translations of the manifesto. The documents translated in this Special Issue show that Solanas and Getino in fact were constantly revising their earlier ideas, especially in response to a rapidly changing political ferment in Argentina.
    First chronologically, the lengthy article by Getino and Solanas, “Cine militante: una categoría interna del Tercer Cine,” was completed in March 1971. This article shows the evolution of their thinking about political cinema that led them to this formulation of militant cinema, “the most advanced category” of Third Cinema. In 1979, Getino wrote the essay “Algunas observaciones sobre el concepto del ‘Tercer Cine,’” a meticulous retrospective analysis that explains the dialectic between the writings published by the group Cine Liberación and the process of clandestine distribution of the film in Argentina until the period following Perón’s return to Argentina in 1973. Also in 1979, a French collective devoted to political cinema, the newly founded French CinémAction group—created by Guy Hennebelle and Monique Martineau in 1978 in Paris— compiled a dossier of eleven responses to survey questions about the impact of the film and the manifesto in different countries during the decade since the explosive response to the first European screening of The Hour of the Furnaces at the Pesaro Film Festival (Italy) in 1968. That CinémAction dossier offers perhaps the most articulate and concentrated assessment of the significance of Third Cinema among committed film activists from all three continents.
    As we have written previously about these documents, we propose here a brief presentation highlighting several questions that remain pertinent to understanding better the history of Third Cinema. At the same time, in our Photo-Essay, the many images include more specific references to the history of the film and the manifesto since they first appeared in 1968/1969 to 1979.

This article examines the cultural politics of bastardy in the films of Tunisian filmmaker Nouri Bouzid at a time when questions of national and cultural identity have come to the fore in Tunisia in the wake of the Revolution of Freedom and Dignity. Nouri Bouzid is the doyen of Tunisian cinema. Not only was he involved in every major postcolonial film, whether as a screenwriter, a scriptwriter, or even as an actor, but he single-handedly directed more than half a dozen films, each of which enjoyed wide national and international acclaim. His debut film, Man of Ashes, dramatizes the trauma of child molestation and the collapse of filial relations as well as the emergence of a new generation of men who seek to recast filial and familial relations beyond blood ties and familial limitations. This same cinematic pursuit is further developed in his later films with striking consistency and perseverance. At a time when the postrevolutionary public sphere is saturated with heated debates around Tunisian national identity, propelled by fantasies of purity and virile filiation, Bouzid's bastard characters serve, the author argues, not only to warp and reclaim the political playing field for revolutionary purposes but also to remind Tunisians of the disturbing legacy of bastardy (instituted by a long history of colonial rape from the Romans to the French) to which they had been and continue to be heirs, and with which they have to reckon. Studying the rhetoric of bastardy in Bouzid's cinema leaves us in the end with the touching yet unsparing conclusion that for Bouzid there are no Tunisians until they have assumed their bastardy.

Trop souvent mal décrites comme étant des oeuvres de réalisme social, les films d'Ousmane Sembène accordent une attention particulière à l'impact politique des choix esthétiques. Dans Ceddo (1976), Sembène a très largement recours à des plans zoomés et des travellings en profondeur afin de permettre à ses téléspectateurs d'être en phase avec la relation résolument dialectique qui existe entre une scène donnée et chacun de ses éléments ; de manière plus générale, entre ces éléments et le vaste contexte sociohistorique qu'ils cherchent à représen-ter. Un aperçu des controverses qui animent l'héritage du Troisième cinéma peut permettre de mettre en lumière les éléments esthétiques délaissés de la tradition et situer le style de caméra de Sembène en lien avec ladite tradition. Un retour à un film comme Ceddo fournit non seulement une perspective critique à partir de laquelle les développements récents dans le cinéma mondial et les études des médias postcoloniaux peuvent être évalués. Bien plus, il peut également permettre de réaffirmer de façon authentiquement émancipatoire le fossé qui sépare les repré-sentations cinématographiques du réel imprévisible des changements historiques. 1. A CINEMATIC MAP Ousmane Sembene's Ceddo (1976) 1 dramatizes the conflicting historical forces that animate a village in the coastal Senegambian region at a time, so the film cues us to surmise, a century or two before the full onslaught of European colonialism in west Africa during the nineteenth century. In its final seconds, there is an arresting medium shot of the dignified and beautiful Dior Yacine, princess of a Wolof tribal group in the midst of a divisive process of Islamization, walking with slow determination towards the camera. With a rifle brought to the region by a European tradesman, she has just shot and killed the diminutive but upstart imam who, over the course of the film, has gradually wrested control of the village from her father the king and his entourage of once-def-erential noblemen. Alongside the viewer, she has probably surmised that the imam sponsored the subversive plot of a regicidal retinue comprised of these noblemen to bring about her father's death by snakebite, about which she has just been apprised.

Caminati fornisce uno dei più brillanti e fecondi studi sul modo in cui Pasolini interagisce e rappresenta il Terzo Mondo nei suoi film. Annullamento della società antica, sviluppo senza progresso, speculazione edilizia e  formazione della petite bourgeoisie nelle terre dell’Africa, del Medioriente e dell’India, attraverso la geniale lente del poeta e cineasta viaggiatore.

Abstract
The struggle against capitalism was gaining power in the 1960s, both in Europe and in Latin America, and cinema was considered as one of the fields of conflict by the activists. In this context, Fernando Ezequel Solanas and Octavio Getino created the Third Cinema Movement as a strategy to revolutionize the cinema as a form that attracted the masses to the struggle. They declared in their manifesto (Towards a Third Cinema, 1968) that one of the most important objectives of the Third Cinema Movement was to produce revolutionary subjectivities. In this thesis, I argue that the Third Cinema Movement's understanding of cinema and their suggestions are still effectual. In this regard, first the theory (manifest) of the movement is read on the basis of the studies of Maurizio Lazzarato Gilles Deleuze. Then, the mechanism of capitalism today, namely, that of the Post-Fordist era, is analyzed to re-establish the material basis of the arguments of the Third Cinema Movement. Meanwhile, the increasing importance of the production of subjectivities in the Post-Fordist era is mentioned. Finally, on this basis, after summarizing the Deleuzian understanding of cinema, the movies that contain the main characteristics of the Third Cinema Movement are analyzed respectively: The Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1928), The Battle of Chile (Patricio Guzman, 1975) and The Hour of the Furnaces (Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino, 1968).These analyses are made mainly with the guidance of Deleuzian concepts such as "movement-image", "time-image" and "affect". In this context, it is demonstrated that the Third Cinema Movement has evaluated cinema and the audiences as well as history, even the universe, both as actuality and virtuality and that therefore, the production of subjectivities was carried out on this basis.
Özet
1960'lı yıllarda Avrupa'da olduğu kadar Latin Amerika'da da kapitalist sisteme karşı mücadele güç kazanıyordu. Aktivistler tarafından sinema mücadele alanlarından biri olarak kabul ediliyordu. Bu bağlamda, Fernando Ezequiel Solanas ve Octavio Gettino, sinemayı devrimci hale getirmenin, sinema aracılığıyla kitleleri mücadeleye çekmenin bir biçimi olarak Üçüncü Sinema Hareketi'ni ortaya çıkardılar. Solanas ve Getino, yayımladıkları manifestoda (Towards a Third Cinema, 1968) Üçüncü Sinema Hareketi'nin en önemli hedeflerinden birinin devrimci öznellikler yaratmak olduğunu belirttiler. Ben bu tezde, Üçüncü Sinema Hareketi'nin sinema anlayışının ve iddialarının bugünde etkisini koruduğunu iddia ediyorum. Bu bağlamda, öncelikle hareketin teorisi (manifestosu), Maurizio Lazzarato'nun ve Gilles Deleuze'ün çalışmalarından yararlanılarak yorumlanmıştır. Ardından, hareketin maddi zemini yeniden tesis edilmesi için günümüzde yani Post-Fordist dönemde kapitalizmin işleyişi analiz edilmiştir. Bu analizde, Post-Fordist dönemde öznellik üretiminin her geçen gün artan önemine dikkat çekilmiştir. Son olarak, bu temelde, Deleuzcü sinema anlayışı özetlendikten sonra Üçüncü Sinema Hareketi'nin temel özelliklerini barındıran üç film sırasıyla incelenmiştir; The Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1928), The Battle of Chile (Patricio Guzman, 1975) ve The Hour of the Furnaces (Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino, 1968). Bu incelemeler ağırlıklı olarak "hareket-imge", "zaman-imge" ve "duygulanım" gibi Deleuzcü kavramların yol göstericiliğinde yapılmıştır. Üçüncü Sinema Hareketi'nin sinemayı ve alıcılarını olduğu kadar tarihi ve hatta evrenin kendisini de hem aktüellik hem de virtüellik olarak da ele aldığı dolayısıyla öznellik üretiminin de bu temelde gerçekleştirildiği gösterilmiştir.

During the 1950–70s, film production in Iraq was relatively prolific. Private industry eventually gave way to nationalization under Ba'th Party rule. Not unlike Iraqi cinema of the colonial era, most post-independence Iraqi cinema had the ideological aim of propping up the new regime while supplying light entertainment to the populace. A minor auteur cinema did develop, which produced a small number of critical independent films, but the movement was short-lived. The bulk of quality film production in Iraq occurred during the period of nationalization. This development eventually led to the establishment of a film school in Baghdad. Since the Iran–Iraq War, national film production in Iraq effectively ended. This is not to say that films publicized as 'Iraqi' have not been produced in recent years; on the contrary, a small but noteworthy number of 'Iraqi' films have been made, primarily for international distribution, largely by Iraqi ex-patriots to (and from) Europe and with financial support from private foreign sources. This article discusses two such films, Zaman: The Man from the Reeds (Alwan, 2003), and Ahlaam (al-Daradji, 2006), comparing and contrasting their differing but overlapping strategies, which evidence the suffering of Iraqis living under conditions of war and violence. These strategies at the same time in varying ways distract or distort attention from the real determinants of those conditions. By extension the article draws critical connections between the aims and orientations of new 'Iraqi' cinema and the hasbara cultural initiatives of contemporary Israel.

The amusing aphorism that the Philippines is “a product of 300 years in a Spanish convent and 40 years of Hollywood” evokes audiovisual validation in the enduring presence of a Filipino religious film genre that represents what I would term as the “folk Catholic imaginary,” a furious postcolonial syncretism of Roman Catholic piety and primal, pre-Hispanic religious practice. Filipino religious films keep open the portal between the this-worldly and the other-wordly, notwithstanding the ingression of what Charles Taylor terms as the “buffered self” (largely coming from “enlightened” Western thought) that summarily dismisses religiosity as belonging to the archaic, pre-enlightened world of enchantment where angels/demons and humans made strange bedfellows. Catholic religious iconography has been vividly portrayed as at once being definitively material and audaciously metaphysical, holding both in creative tension so that it is never a question of an either/or, but a both/and.

Link:
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17432200.2015.1103474

79 PRIMAVERAS + JULY TRIP

Olivier Hadouchi propose :

79 primaveras (79 printemps) de Santiago Àlvarez
Pays Cuba / Année 1969 / Durée 24 mn

Film audacieux dédié à la figure de Hô Chi Minh qui venait juste de disparaître à l’âge de 79 Printemps, hymne à la solidarité avec le peuple vietnamien en lutte contre l’Amérique du Nord, ce documentaire expérimental, inventif et poétique, est un véritable chef d’oeuvre oeuvre du cinéma militant et révolutionnaire en provenance dans ce qu’on appelait alors le « tiers-monde » insurgé. O. H.

Le cinéaste cubain Santiago Àlvarez (La Havane 1919 – 1998) a réalisé, à partir de 1961, un très grand nombre de films documentaires souvent primés dans les festivals internationaux dont : Ciclón 1963, Now ! 1965, Hasta la victoria siempre !, Hanoi Martes 13, 1967, LBJ, 1968.

July trip de Waël Noureddine
Pays France / Année 2007 / Durée 35 mn

« Lorsque la dernière guerre a débuté, j’étais loin, à mon domicile parisien. Je n’avais qu’une seule idée : rentrer à Beyrouth le plus rapidement possible et commencer à filmer, il s’agissait de moments historiques. Ce film était devenu pour moi le film indispensable. Filmer pour que l’histoire cesse de se répéter en boucle et constituer une banque d’images pour les générations futures. » écrivait Waël Noureddine à propos de July Trip.

Né en 1978 au Liban, Waël Noureddine est l’auteur de plusieurs courts métrages remarqués tels que Ça sera beau (From Beyrouth with Love), 2005, July Trip, 2007, A Film Far Beyond a God, 2008, qui donnent la parole à une jeunesse désenchantée dans un environnement hanté par les séquelles et les soubresauts de la guerre, toujours prête à ressurgir. O. H.

À l’occasion de la sortie de Cinéma et Guerre de Libération. Algérie, les batailles d’images, aux éditions Chihab, et pour sa première contribution à Textures du temps, Olivier Hadouchi a rencontré l’auteur, Ahmed Bedjaoui pour évoquer pour évoquer certaines de ces batailles du cinéma algérien. Ahmed Bedjaoui a été journaliste, enseignant-chercheur, producteur à la Radio-Télévision algérienne (RTA), directeur et programmateur à la Cinémathèque algérienne. Il fut également l’animateur, pendant une vingtaine d’années, à la télévision d’une émission de cinéma devenue culte.