avocets
Avocets
rss 2.0 subscribe to this page
search


view all
•  projects
•  owners
•  tags

    Ebert's review of Un chien andalou provides both a good analysis of the film to use as a comparison to The Seashell and the Clergyman and a good example of the main arguments put forth in support of Un chien andalou as the first Surrealist film.  According to Ebert, the idea for the film originated from a discussion between Dalí and Buñuel about dreams they had had, prompting them to make a film beginning with images from their dreams.  “In collaborating on the scenario, their method was to toss shocking images or events at one another. Both had to agree before a shot was included in the film. 'No idea or image that might lend itself to a rational explanation of any kind would be accepted,' Bunuel remembered. 'We had to open all doors to the irrational and keep only those images that surprised us, without trying to explain why'” (Ebert).  Ebert also asserts the historical primacy of the film: “It was made in the hope of administering a revolutionary shock to society. 'For the first time in the history of the cinema,' wrote the critic Ado Kyrou, 'a director tries not to please but rather to alienate nearly all potential spectators.'”
    Ebert's review provides much useful information for a comparison of Un chien andalou and The Seashell and the Clergyman and the theories behind them.  To begin with, the technique used by  Dalí and Buñuel in writing their film was quite different than those used by Dulac and those theorized by Artaud.  Ebert argues that Dalí and Buñuel sought to create a film entirely devoid of meaning with no rational connection between any of events or images, essentially a film of pure nonsense.  This varies considerably from Artaud's ideas of creating an experience that betrays a traditional narrative setting (requiring at least some connections between parts of the film) in order to include the spectator in the film.  The goal of  Dalí and Buñuel was to create a film that left the viewer with nothing and no ability to derive meaning from the experience; whereas, Artaud's goal was to force the audience to be a part of the dream world and create interpretations and conclusions on their own.  Additionally, the technique of throwing illogical, surprising images at the audience used by Dalí and Buñuel was a primary technique in Dulac's film as well.  Ebert and Kyrou advocate the uniqueness of Un chien andalou as film's first attempt to alienate an audience, but ignore the attempts of The Seashell and the Clergyman to alienate the audience from identification with the film and many other previous films such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Impressionist films.  While differences between Un chien andalou and The Seashell and the Clergyman may be noted from their difference in purpose, the theory and techniques used in both originated with Dulac's film.

 

Ebert, Roger. "Un chien andalou (1928)." Rev. of Chicago Sun-Times. Chicago Sun-Times 16 Apr. 2000.

Brandell, Jerrold R. "Eighty Years of Dream Sequences: A Cinematic Journey Down Freud's "Royal Road." American Imago 61.1 (2004): 59-76.

Brandell’s article looks at Secrets of the Soul, Spellbound, David and Lisa, and 12 Monkeys and analyzes each film’s treatment of psychoanalysis specifically relating to the interpretation of dream sequences as an extension of the different times’ approaches and attitudes towards psychoanalysis. Brandell is specifically interested in looking at the possibility that specific cultural events or attitudes could have shaped the depiction of psychoanalytic treatment in film. In addition to attitudes, Brandell also explores whether advances in technology changed the way that filmmakers approached the representation of the psychoanalysis of dreams. After investigating the depictions of psychoanalysis in each film, Brandell comes to the conclusion that the representations of dream sequences have little to do with the technological capacity of the time in which each film was created. Instead, he argues that the each film was more influenced by historical events and that social attitudes, not technological innovations, dictated the depictions of dream sequences and psychoanalysis.

Ultimately, Brandell concludes that the portrayal of “Dr. Edwardes’ ” dream sequence is based less on the technological resources of Salvador Dali, and instead is shaped by what people’s position on psychiatry and psychoanalysis was at the time. Brandell argues that this position had been greatly affected by the influx of veterans with various forms of posttraumatic stress disorder returning home from World War II. Like John Ballantine, who witnessed the traumatic death of the real Dr. Edwardes, the depiction of his treatment argues that through psychoanalysis patients can work through their trauma and ultimately “open the doors” to their memories and the subconscious, allowing them to be cured. At the end of the film, John Ballantine escapes the memories that haunt him by successfully completing psychoanalysis with the help of Dr. Peterson. Perhaps the film intends to argue that like Ballantine, the generation of soldiers traumatized after a difficult war could also be “cured.” Spellbound’s representation of psychoanalysis is in many respects inaccurate, but is consistently hopeful.