#2) Authorship

I apologize that this response might be vague and unorganized like the last one, since I missed the lecture for this unit last week, and struggled to understand how the concepts might relate to this film. I really did try to structure my points, but know that I will do better in the future. For this film, I DID have comments on authorship in the film's diegetic music, lighting, and other cinematic elements, but did not discuss that here. Please let me know if that is something I SHOULD have discussed, or if it is enough to simply pick one film example. Basically, I'm not sure if it is better to pick ONE concept from the reading and use MANY different examples from the film, or to pick a few different concepts/quotes, and relate it to ONE example from the film. For this response, I have done more of the latter.

For this response, I focused on the statement by Peter Wollen: “The auteur theory does not limit itself to acclaiming the director as the main author of a film. It implies an operation of decipherment; it reveals authors where none had been seen before” (566). As a director, I have witnessed how the role of the director strongly impacts the entire narration of the piece. I control many of the crucial elements: mise en scene, blocking/movement, character development, music, etc. Yet the collaborative nature of theatre means that no matter what, the story is owned by and articulated through various “authors,” namely the playwright, actors, and spectators. While media is a different lens than theatre, these principals of copious authorship are still relevant.  John Ford’s film direction highlights the influences and authorship capabilities of voice-over narration, scenic shots, and film editing, which combine to represent thematic antinomies, such as the “civilized” versus the “savage.”

Ford’s award-winning film, How Green Was My Valley, (1941) supports Wollen’s critique of Ford’s exploration in authorship, particularly regarding binaries and their complex function in storytelling for film: “the system of oppositions is much more complex: instead of there being two broad strata of film there are a whole series of shifting variations. In these cases, we need to analyze the roles of the protagonists themselves, rather than simply the worlds in which they operate.” This quote guided my viewing of this film, serving as a tool for uncovering how Ford chose to structure Huw Morgan’s authorship of is own story, and his relationship with the world around him, both in the past and present. The opening voiceover of an adult Huw—“I am packing my belongings in the shawl my mother use to wear when she went to the market. And I’m going to my valley. And this time, I shall never return”—and the viewing of Huw as a young child, immediately establishes that the rest of the film will be the recapitulation of Huw’s childhood, and an exploration into how the green valleys have become overtaken with the blackness of the coal mines. Thus the physical exposure of the green-now-black valley creates this antinomy of a once civilized, yet now savaged world that has caused Huw to long for his childhood.

The rest of the film is a flashback of Huw’s young life, and the many tragic events that occurred, such as the mining strike, and death of his brother (Ivor) and father (Gwilym). By having the protagonist be a young child who mainly observes, it causes the authorship to fall into the hands of the older characters: Huw’s parents, brothers, sister, sister-in-law, teacher, and Mr. Gruffyd the new preacher. Thus even though these are Huw’s memories, he is more of a witness of the world around him. A protagonist is normally described as the one with the strong objectives, bringing about the main action in the story. Yet here, quite the opposite is taking place. So as we experience the film, should we reflect more on the older Hugh with his blackened valleys, or the younger Hugh with his greener valleys? It is intriguing how Ford has directed this film to reveal two different “authors” within the same character. This highlights the importance of narration and its relationship to time, which also highlights the binary relationship of the civilized and the savage, since this town goes from one to the other over time.

To elaborate further, by setting up this film as a memory tale where Huw is narrating his past (as the audience experiences it in the present), Ford is reflecting the concepts of Roland Barthes in The Death of the Author, who addresses two opposing views on storytelling in relation to time: “the author, when we believe in him, is always conceived as the past of his own book…that is, he pre-exists it, thinks, suffers, lives for it.” He then adds his rebuttal: “Quite the contrary, the modern writer (scriptor) is born simultaneously with his text; he is in no way supplied with a being which precedes or transcends his writing…there is no other time than that of the utterance, and every text is eternally written here and now” (4). In other words, once the piece is written, the author “dies” and their writing will always be experienced in present time, with the reader viewing things with their own mindset, opinions, and realities. The author’s existence does not factor into how their work will be received or interpreted. Likewise, as we view Ford’s film in real time, Huw (the “author” and narrator) basically fades into the background of his own story. The major events that happen are often not his doing, therefore, he is not depicted like the author or protagonist at all. Our experience with his memories is less about him, and more about the world in which he lives, and how we experience his past in the present. Yet with the narration of grown-up Huw, and the images of the valley at the beginning and end, Ford is directing us to recall this protagonist throughout the film, and reflect on how his actions, influences, and surroundings have caused him to long for his valley in present day.

In conclusion, binaries are definitely at play in Ford’s film: the author is “dead” enough to allow us the chance to experience his memories in real time, without the constant feeling that we are living through one character’s memory and feelings the entire time. Yet through the narration, older Huw remains the observant yet omniscient center of the entire film. This mixture of the past and present emphasizes how the civilized has become savaged over time, thus establishing a clear thematic binary, which is Ford's unique style: “My own view is that Ford’s work is much richer than that of Hawks and that this is revealed by a structural analysis; it is the richness of the shifting relations between antinomies in Ford’s work that makes him a great artist, beyond being simply an undoubted auteur” (575).

#1) Industry and Political Economy

          “Media” is such a broad word; it covers all types of processes that act as the medium between people and the world around them. Thus it plays an important role in the political economy in which we live and the study of culture. At large, a society is a function of its needs; the jobs we create, the education we receive, and the lifestyles we lead are all subject to the influence of what we determine as necessities. But who ultimately determines our needs?

Studying the politics of economy helps us view our history through materialism, and determining the power relationships that inherently develop as we as humans try to create and fulfill our needs. Media—broadcasting, journalism, the internet, or other methods of communication—will always be a need, since it is the means by which our ideas and our shared existence becomes known. Thus media is a direct reflection of what we as a society find important to discuss, feel, express, and most importantly…buy.

It is impossible to examine political economy without taking cultural studies into consideration. This was one of the clearest points made in Garnham’s article, “Political Economy and Cultural Studies: Reconciliation or Divorce?” To quote the end: “How is it possible to study multi-culturalism or diasporic culture without studying the flows of labor migration and their determination that have largely created these creatures?” (71) The things we buy create jobs for other people, and they also create our world, since these items—food, music, movies, clothes, games, and everything else—are how we spend our money, our time, etc. It is difficult to think of describing yourself or others without including how we spend our time, what things we like, etc. Thus we individually and as a culture ARE a result of the media surrounding us. And the media we create is a result of who we are, who we want to be, and what we choose to know and talk about.

This relates to the pilot of Aaron Sorkin’s series, “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip,” which only lasted one season. The show captures the behind-the-scenes business and production ordeals of a live sketch comedy show, much like “Saturday Night Live.” To me, the most powerful moment was the controversial speech made by the producer, ensuing all the chaos that followed. What he said relates directly to what we SHOULD think about when we watch television, or interact with any media: what are we allowing the media to say about us? Or make us believe? It has the power to influence what we think about, watch, listen to, and buy.

The producer’s point in interrupting the sketch that made fun of past presidents was to call out its viewers (and entire cast and crew) for buying into petty humor that not only embarrasses their leaders, but themselves as well, for finding that type of trite humor entertaining. Thus Sorkin is emphasizing that media speaks louder than anything about the type of people we are, and how our humor and speech in general is a product of…well, our products. What we consume is not only material things; the television we watch states a lot about our community at large. Thus, like the title of Garnham’s other article suggests, the media we create is an expression of our cultural industries, and vice versa. We cannot discuss the people who create the need for things without also critiquing those who consume the things in need/want.

People thrive on labor and consumption, therefore it was hard to watch the main operator struggle with whether he would cut off the producer in order to keep his job, or allow it to air until he did something against the standards of public television. This also made me think about how our television, and media in general, is always being monitored, especially during live recordings (sports, awards shows, the news) and governed by certain standards, which then create our personal standards for what we believe should or should not be included in the media. Hence our viewing of media is controlled by those who are paid to decide what is appropriate or allowed to be public information.

In relation to Garnham’s 3 organizations of media, live television is a constant “flow” of media and a control of distribution systems. In contrast, many businesses close on holidays, for example, but media cannot; we have the expectation that every channel will constantly show something on the screen. It is something we have grown to depend on, and it should never go away, or stop being constant and relevant to our world and our news, our products our likes and dislikes. To stop media or to have corruption in it is to corrupt our society, cultural industries, and political economy. Sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s really true.

By the same token, this show might not have been successful because it depicts the fragile nature of people working in an industry that we depend on greatly, and consider to be very constant, stable, and satisfying. It is not pleasant to see the feeble nature of those behind the scenes of our dependable media. Likewise, we want to use the television to get information on reality, but mostly to escape it. Their sitcom is a way to laugh, forget, and relax after a hard day’s work. It is unnerving to know that those producing this product we love so much are all power-hungry, disagreeable, and possibly don’t even want to be on the screen to begin with (Matthew Perry’s character). It is more pleasing and reassuring to assume that those in the business on and off the screen WANT to be there, that their labor is enjoyable, and that we can therefore sit back and enjoy their product in peace. We viewers seem to prefer coping or false consciousness. So Sorkin’s show was just too meta, I guess. J A show inside of a show of this nature just didn’t meet the status quo.