European Identity in Cinema

The identity of European cinema, like the identity of Europe itself, is multiple, complex, and fascinating. Providing both a general survey of contemporary European cinema production, distribution and exhibition and detailed critical analysis of specific films, directors, and national cinemas, this volume offers a stimulating and thought-provoking contribution to current film debate.

While the book’s critical essays offer keen insight into the complex identities of European cinema, its combination of breadth and detail, and its interdisciplinary focus and background ensure its wider relevance to anyone interested in questions of contemporary culture and European affairs in general. Its stylistic clarity and freedom from jargon make it readable and accessible.   The essays have been written by respected academics working in a number of disciplines including Film and Media Studies, Modern Languages, and Cultural Studies.

Topics include questions of memory and identity; filmic autobiography and first-person narration; cultural identity; peripheral voices; popular film and political film. Individual directors, and different national cinemas, including those of France, Germany, Northern Ireland, Russia, Scotland and Spain, are viewed in a wider pan- European context.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Intellect Books
• Release date: Jul 1, 2005
• ISBN: 9781841509440

Book preview

European Identity in Cinema

Edited by Wendy Everett

Second edition published in the UK in 2005 by

Intellect Books, PO Box 862, Bristol BS99 1DE, UK

Second edition published in the USA in 2005 by

Intellect Books, ISBS, 920 NE 58th Ave. Suite 300, Portland, Oregon 97213-3786, USA

Copyright ©2005 Intellect Ltd

First edition published in 1996

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Electronic ISBN 1-84150-944-2 / ISBN 84150-916-7

Series Editor: Keith Cameron

Cover Design: Gabriel Solomons

Copy Editor: Tess Moran/Julie Strudwick

Printed and bound in Great Britain by 4Edge Ltd, UK.

Contents

Preface: Filmic fingerprints

Introduction: European film and the quest for identity

Wendy Everett

Re-framing the fingerprints: a short survey of European film

Wendy Everett

Louis Malle: a European outsider in the American mainstream

Peter Hawkins

Les Visiteurs: a popular form of cinema for Europe?

Anne Jackel

Wenders’ Paris, Texas and the ‘European way of seeing’

Stan Jones

Identity and the past in recent Russian cinema

David Gillespie

The critique of reification: a subversive current within the cinema of contemporary Spain

Dominic Keown

Current problems in the study of European cinema and the role of questions on cultural identity

Ian Aitkin

Film and Northern Ireland: beyond ‘the troubles’?

Brian Neve

Peripheral visions: film-making in Scotland

Duncan Petrie

Timetravel and European film

Wendy Everett

Bibliography

Preface: filmic fingerprints

Wendy Everett

In 1996 when European Identity in Cinema was first published, the idea of a European focus was still something of a novelty in a field overwhelmingly dominated by studies of national cinemas. Since then, of course, the critical interests have changed, and many more texts now address cinema on a pan-European scale. I remain grateful to Robin Beecroft and to Intellect for their flexible and innovative attitude to film studies at that time, and hope that the fact that this volume is still in demand, and that the issues it addresses have remained central both to cinema studies and to wider cultural concerns, vindicates that support.

The title I originally chose for this book was ‘Fingerprinting Europe’, reflecting the idea that the identity of European cinema could perhaps best be approached through the small-scale individual, national, and regional traces that made up its complex multiple composition. The title was rejected in favour of something less ambiguous, but the idea of exploring a more general identity through detailed traces is still valid, not least since one of the most striking results of the dynamic of globalisation has been an increase in fragmentation and difference. More than ever, therefore, it would be pointless to suggest that identity can be approached as a fixed unitary concept. This makes the objective of this volume, the attempt to explore and unravel the many concepts and forms of identity that emerge in the interrogation of European cinema, arguably even more exciting and unpredictable today than it was in the mid-1990s. Contemporary Europe and its multiple identities are perhaps best envisioned as a form of fractal geometry, pattered by chaos, with national and regional differences endlessly breaking down into ever more complex sub-divisions that reflect differences such as gender, sexuality, and ethnicity, and these differences perhaps find their most powerful expression in spatial metaphors of the city as transitory meeting place of difference and change. What is particularly fascinating, therefore, is the process by which, starting from minute observations of individual films, we are able to identify wider trends and movements that occur right across national, cultural, and linguistic divides, and that reflect and articulate not only artistic and filmic preoccupations, but also the social and political concerns of contemporary Europe.

In 1996, when this book first appeared, questions of identity were beginning to dominate European culture’s long-standing preoccupation with history and memory, and identity itself was gradually gaining acceptance as a defining characteristic of the postmodern condition (Sarup 1996: 28). Fascinatingly, by 2001 identity was seen as possibly the single most important characteristic of postmodernism, with critics such as Bauman describing it as ‘a prism through which other topical aspects of contemporary life are spotted, grasped and examined’ (Bauman 2001: 121–129).

Thus, as European Identity in Film vividly reveals, the issues that characterised European cinema in the mid-1990s have grown not less but more important as cinema embarks upon its second century. Even today identity is a dominant concern, and the ideas explored by the book’s original contributors remain as central and pertinent as ever.

However, this new edition does provide entirely new material where this is helpful, in the form of an updated and expanded Introduction, which offers a slightly different critical focus, reflecting changes both to European film in general, and to the critical discourse that surrounds it, while the first chapter, ‘Framing the fingerprints: a brief survey of European film’, has been largely rewritten to reflect some of the many changes that have occurred in the production, distribution, and exhibition of European films. This reworking was essential, not least because of the remarkable change in fortunes that has occurred across European cinema in the last few years. The remaining chapters remain as they were, their insight being as valid now as it was when they were written.

The identity of Europe and its cinemas is multiple, unstable, and perpetually changing, and this fact on its own accounts for much of its enduring fascination and perhaps constitutes its ultimate strength. European films remain as varied, innovative, and challenging as ever, and I welcome with delight this chance to revisit old haunts, and to make entirely new discoveries, secure in the knowledge that ultimately definitions and labels will prove as elusive and unreliable as ever.

Introduction: European film and the quest for identity

Wendy Everett

Understanding and defining European, let alone the identity of European cinema, involves an obsessive wrestling with contradictions, suspicions, and uncertainties, and that fundamental complexity provided the starting point of the first edition of this book in 1996. It therefore seems somewhat ironic that attempting such a definition is no easier now than it was then. Indeed, if anything, the fact of closer union and the increasingly sophisticated political and social mechanisms that have characterised recent developments within the EC seem to have complicated still further the concept of European identity. Writing in the early 1990s, Pierre Sorlin felt able to draw a clear distinction between the diverse and divergent cultural identities of Europe and what he saw as its much more focused economic and political status. On the one hand, he suggested, European culture is ‘a patchwork, a juxtaposition of various conceptions and practices of entertainment, a collection of individual ways of singing, dancing, telling stories, practising sport and having some rest’, while, on the other ‘economically and politically, Europe is already a reality’ (Sorlin 1991:3). Still today, few would disagree with the first statement; indeed divergence and difference are now accepted as central to any concept European culture; however, the second comment remains less persuasive. For all the progress that the EC has made in political and economic spheres, each step towards unification brings new problems, and in many ways the goal is no less hazy and uncertain than a decade ago (Wagstaff 1994: 1).

It is also the case that, far from being forgotten, the suspicion and prejudice that for so long divided the nations of Europe, can still be seen, resurfacing in political wrangling and public manifestations of xenophobia and prejudice. Even the climate of optimism that followed political developments such as the fall of the Berlin wall, glasnost, and perestroika proved short-lived in the face of territorial and material conflict and the unspeakable horrors of ethnic cleansing. Over the last few years there has been worrying evidence of the resurgence of the extreme right across the continent, fuelled by inflated immigration statistics and the age-old fear of the Other, while external conflicts and the threat of escalating global terrorism, instead of uniting Europe, appear to have divided it still further. In other words, even today Europe remains in many ways a fragile construct, ‘an archipelago of differences’, an uncomfortable coalition of awkward and ill-matched components whose outlines and composition are constantly changing (Compagnon 1992: 108).

However, it is as important not to be obsessed with the need to define or to find clear-cut answers as it is to recognise the progress that has actually been achieved in creating a stronger awareness of European identity. It is essential to recognise that there has never been, and arguably could never be a single definition of Europe, and that it is the essential diversity of the continent that constitutes its richness. And despite their differences, European nations are still bound by close and complex ties, not least a shared history and common cultural traditions, and while the individual viewpoints of specific social and national groups may well be at variance, nevertheless they are looking at the same cultural and historical reference points. Moreover, one of the undoubted achievements of the EU has been to highlight common beliefs and aspirations. It is within this wider and ongoing debate about European identity that issues of the role, identity, and future of European cinema must be situated.

Defining european cinema

If the identity of Europe is highly problematic, so too is that of cinema itself which, throughout its history, has been characterised by dispute and uncertainty. Invented as a means of observing the ‘real’ world, film was quickly recognised as the most powerful tool for articulating illusion as reality, thus blurring the boundaries between the two. Furthermore, its very status is contradictory and uncertain. Should film be seen as an art form, and situated in a cultural context that includes, for example, literature, theatre, painting, and music? Clearly, while having much in common with these other arts, film differs from them (to varying degrees) by virtue of the vast sums required for its production and the problems involved in its distribution and exhibition. Unlike theatre and music, which may well share similar organisational and financial problems, cinema is as likely to be considered an industrial product as a cultural one, and to be judged by criteria that are economic rather than artistic. The fact is, of course, that film is both cultural articulation and industrial product, both challenging, idiosyncratic discourse and popular entertainment for a mass audience, both reflection of reality and subversion of reality, and while these contradictory facets may constitute a source of great energy for the medium, they lead to confused national policies and polarised critical debate. In addition to the problems inherent in cinema’s identity as ‘volatile meeting place of art and commerce’ (Finney 1996: 1), European cinema further mirrors the complexities involved in the creation and recognition of cultural identity in general (Higson 1989: 36–46). And given that the fragmentation and diversity that characterise European identity are also deeply etched across its cinema(s), the complexity of discussing European cinema becomes apparent. At the same time, such discussion is vital, not least because of film’s unique significance as reflection and articulation of European cultural identities. This is not only because cinema provides us with a vivid illustration of the vulnerability of the national and regional to the relentless dynamic of globalisation – specifically, in this case, to the dominant discourse of Hollywood – in a way that raises wider issues of European identity, but also because it exploits the fundamental relationship between seeing and understanding, and recognises the centrality of visual images to the formation of identity, whether personal, regional, national or European.

For a long time, the notion of Europe as a collection of differences both reflected and perpetuated the privileging of the nation-state as creator of culture and identity. Still today, it is the case that a good many discussions of European culture, not least its filmic culture, focus upon individual national productions rather than attempting any cross-border, pan-European view. Of course, adopting a more flexible and inclusive approach can be problematic, and if countless studies in the field begin by asking what European cinema is, far fewer attempt an answer, however provisional. At one extreme, one might argue that, like Europe itself, European cinema is a mirage, a concept that has no reality outside the critical discourse that frames it (Fowler 2002). It is certainly true that we cannot speak of European cinema in terms of a cultural monolith or static unitary identity, but then any such intention must surely be rare within postmodern discourse. And despite her hesitation, Fowler, along with many other critics and scholars – not least the contributors to this volume – feels able to identify and assess trends that, visible across different national and regional cinemas, do enable us to identify certain key characteristics of European cinema. (See, for example, Vincendeau 1998; Forbes and Street 2000; Wayne 2002). These characteristics include filmic, aesthetic, and other cultural traditions, of course, often cited by those who equate European film with ‘art cinema’ or ‘high’ culture, but equally applicable to popular genres (a point too frequently ignored by critics whose focus is ‘popular’ cinema). They also include the exploration of themes and concerns that are of wider social and political relevance to Europe itself at a given moment. However, it is equally important to bear in mind that films do not exist in isolation from other films. As Sorlin points out, ‘films beget films, films imitate other films’, so that ‘each film could be considered a small bit in the huge text of all the already-shot movies’ (Sorlin 1991: 10). What this reminds us is that while European films articulate, explore, and even influence social and political dilemmas, and while they repeatedly reference other forms of art and entertainment, including television and mainstream Hollywood, they are always, to some extent, engaged in an ongoing dialogue with other European films. Through that often highly self-referential dialogue, we may also find indications of a pan-national, European filmic culture or identity.

Even from this brief account, it is clear that reaching any definition of European cinema is not easy, but there are numerous other equally important considerations that we do not have the time to touch upon. For example, a number of critics foreground the problems of even deciding whether or not a film should be described as European. The question is not as straightforward as it might at first appear, given – as will be seen in the next chapter – the widely varying production, funding, distribution, and exhibition strategies adopted by different nations, for these introduce arcane financial considerations into the complex question of provenance or identity. And while there is an increasing tendency to equate Europe with the EC, in terms of cinema, this is a serious misapprehension. An obvious example is that it would be impossible to exclude Russia and former East European countries from a discussion of European cinema, however problematical the relationship (see, for example, David Gillespie’s essay on ‘Identity and the past in recent Russian cinema’, in this volume), even if they are not necessarily member states of the EU. Another example might be Switzerland, one of a small number of countries that has chosen not to join the EU although, in many ways, Swiss cinema occupies a position at the heart of European cinema, a point reinforced by the number of European co-productions with which it is involved. The case of Turkey raises a number of other important considerations: not (yet) a member of the EC, although rapidly moving in that direction, the country has an exciting national film industry and is already widely involved in European co-productions despite its cultural, historical, and geographical distance from Europe. Will the fact of joining the EU automatically lead to its cinema being classified as European? To complicate the issue still further, one might argue that as European films in general are becoming increasingly obsessed with issues of exile and emigration, with the experiences of the migrant, and the profound cultural changes that mark the continent’s shift to a multi-ethnic and multi-racial society, Turkey may be seen to occupy a central position in all sorts of ways. In other words, even geographical and political definitions are fluid and unstable, and for film, as for individuals, place of provenance may be a restrictive and flawed indicator of identity.

Identity and difference

This volume considers many of the key issues that shape contemporary debate concerning the role and identity of European cinema, and the complexity of the subject is reflected by the different theoretical and critical perspectives that the essays reveal. However, central to all of them is the recognition that identity is never monolithic or static, and that it would be dishonest to suggest otherwise. As Higson recognised, over a decade ago, ‘The search for a stable and coherent identity can be successful only at the expense of repressing internal differences, tensions, and contradictions’ (Higson 1989: 43). Difference, therefore, is a recurring theme in this volume. For example, Ian Aitkin, in his study of cinema and cultural identity, uses the theory of globalisation as a framework in which differences themselves can be categorised and examined. He thus avoids prescription in his survey, instead highlighting dominant themes and demonstrating how these reflect cultural and political change, and how they may relate to national issues of identity.

A fundamental characteristic of questions of identity and difference is the role of the Other, the unknown, and the foreign, in defining the national: for example, the idea that ‘a cinema or broadcasting network or a discourse of advertising is British because it is not French or German or North American’ (Cubitt 1989: 2). This is the stance adopted by Morley and Robins in their analysis of the nature of cultural identity, which argues that ‘cultural identity must be defined in relation to differentiation from other cultural identities’ (Morley and Robins 1989: 10). In this reading, it is clear that each nation has collections of myths and stories which, along with linguistic and historical markers, serve to distinguish it from other national cinemas. The possibility of defining yourself by referring to the Other emerges in ‘Framing the fingerprints’, the short survey that follows this introduction: national myths and constructs, not to mention the fraught questions of language difference, enable us easily to characterise one or other of the national cinemas we study. However, this book traces a more complex identity, that of European film, itself composed – as we have seen – of contrasts and differences. Can clues to this identity also be found by concentrating upon what sets it apart from other world cinemas?

It is certainly the case that European cinema is often defined by those characteristics that distinguish it from mainstream Hollywood. The dangers of this approach are that it invites generalisation and oversimplification and risks promoting stereotype. Nevertheless, it can provide a useful