JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO最新文献

{"title":"Audiovisual Silence: A Lever for Narrative Change and Transition","authors":"Daniel Torras i Segura","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.3.04","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.3.04","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"43 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136206391","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Editor's Introduction","authors":"Cynthia Baron","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.3.01","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.3.01","url":null,"abstract":"tanya silverman's “Automotive Associations in Post–New Wave Films by Czech Directors” examines the rich connotations that cars convey to generate a timely account of work by four significant Czech directors: Jiří Menzel (1938–2020) and Věra Chytilová (1929–2014), who worked exclusively in their home country, and Miloš Forman (1932–2018) and Ivan Passer (1933–2020), who exiled themselves following the Soviet invasion in 1968. In “Facing the End of the World: Take Shelter as Horror Ecocinema,” Katarzyna Paszkiewicz advances scholarship in the areas of genre studies, audience reception, and cultural engagement with climate change, through research that deftly integrates multiple threads of inquiry with nuanced analysis of visual and narrative elements in Jeff Nichols's 2011 acclaimed independent film. In “Audiovisual Silence: A Lever for Narrative Change and Transition,” Daniel Torras i Segura offers valuable insights for both scholars and practitioners in his ample illustration of why and how silence so often facilitates transitions or variations between scenes and effectively signals change within and between scenes. In “Documentary Film and the Flint Water Crisis: Incorporating the Sociological Imagination,” Cedric Taylor places documentary work in a new light through his thoughtful analysis of how public sociology principles grounded his approach to making Nor Any Drop to Drink: Flint's Water Crisis (2018) and to sharing it as an open-access resource.","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"39 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136206377","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Facing the End of the World: <i>Take Shelter</i> as Horror Ecocinema","authors":"Katarzyna Paszkiewicz","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.3.03","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.3.03","url":null,"abstract":"in one of the most dramatic scenes in Jeff Nichols's Take Shelter (2011), a film about a construction worker who begins to have nightmares involving an impending storm, the protagonist angrily turns over a table during a community gathering and unleashes a dreadful prophecy: “There is a storm comin’ like nothing you have ever seen. And not a one of you is prepared for it . . . . Sleep well in your beds. ’Cause if this thing comes true, there ain't gonna be any more.” For E. Ann Kaplan, who analyzed Take Shelter in her 2015 study of “climate trauma” in dystopian film and fiction, the protagonist is traumatized by something that has not yet taken place, and in this respect, she argues, he embodies “the cultural unconscious about global warming” (41). Since then, Take Shelter has often been discussed as part of the “cautionary tales around climate change” (Brereton 157) and what has been dubbed “cli-fi” (Craps 81), a category of films, novels, and other cultural forms whose dystopian scenarios are said to convey our increasing anxiety about the disastrous effects of the anthropogenic impact on the planet (Leikam and Leyda; Weik von Mossner).Take Shelter seems to adhere to the well-known narrative of a male hero struggling to protect his family from the planetary-scale catastrophe—what Joanna Zylinska calls, in reference to the apocalyptic visions of the Anthropocene, “the Armageddon for the White Man” (38). However, the film's consistent engagement with the conventions of the horror genre opens up space for unpacking heroic action and male anxiety in “end of the world” scenarios in new ways. For Agnes Woolley, Nichols's film dramatizes “the imaginative impasse often engendered by the environmental crisis” and suggests “alternative ways of knowing our environment to the empirical modes within which contemporary discourses of climate change tend to operate” (176). Toward the end of her article, Woolley briefly points to the film's generic instability, suggesting that even though Take Shelter does not directly belong to ecocinema, it may be read as such, because it helps “to reorient the way we view nature by attending to its materiality and determining power through the populist codes of conventional cinema” (189).Taking Woolley's observation as a starting point, an observation that reveals her somewhat ambivalent attitude toward what she sees as “the populist codes of conventional cinema,” this article provides a more detailed examination of genre to contend that the conventions of the horror film play a crucial role in Take Shelter's ecological attentiveness. In this sense, my central argument is that the film can be understood as what I dub here “horror ecocinema,” bringing together both the scholarship on ecocinema (MacDonald; Willoquet-Maricondi) and horror studies (Creed; Shaviro; Aldana Reyes). While at first glance Take Shelter would seem to elude simple classification as an eco-film or a horror film, I show how it compellingly addresses press","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"34 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136206394","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Automotive Associations in Post–New Wave Films by Czech Directors","authors":"Tanya Silverman","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.3.02","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.3.02","url":null,"abstract":"from the release of political satires and psychedelic experiments to the receival of its first Academy Awards, Czechoslovakia in the 1960s gained international recognition as a wellspring of cinema from its end of the Iron Curtain. The Czech New Wave movement that coincided with the liberalized era of communism saw the beginnings of many local directors’ fruitful careers. Although the political repercussions of the 1968 Soviet invasion would terminate the New Wave, inhibit the possibilities for directors, and prompt several of them to immigrate to the West, the grave consequences could not curtail their creative drives. Some, such as Jiří Menzel (1938–2020) and Věra Chytilová (1929–2014), stayed to endure the repressive normalization period that ensued, while others, such as Miloš Forman (1932–2018) and Ivan Passer (1933–2020), moved to the United States to continue their careers. All four directors studied at the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague, also known as FAMU, and played prominent roles in the New Wave before continuing to make films from the 1970s into the 2000s. But beyond their initial commonalities, how is it possible to read their extensive, transatlantic oeuvres? How did all four directors employ cinema to express their reactions to the societal environments in which they lived and worked after the 1960s? Moreover, what sorts of parallels exist between their arguably disparate films?To formulate a comparative understanding of the post–New Wave filmographies of Menzel, Chytilová, Forman, and Passer, this article focuses on a specific material motif: the car. Beyond its basic association with transportation, the automobile connotes innumerable factors about existence in modern civilization: position in society, standard of living, terrestrial mobility, and the pursuit of property. In Cold War circumstances, competition between the blocs involved not only grand ideologies in conjunction with government mechanisms, but also denizens’ ways of life, with car availability and ownership serving as a metric for systems’ economic production and consumer standards. Considering cars in filmic texts as indicative of auteurs’ attitudes, this article explores the automotive motif qua societal status, individualism, capability, and space. It interprets directors’ reactions toward stimuli in their host countries’ communities through the ways that vehicles in films exemplify characters’ hierarchical rankings, point to private ownership versus group interests, affect the environments of places, or function as instruments that enable (or hinder) people's actions. All four directors deal with the complexities surrounding the symbolism of individual car ownership as a marker of social ascent and personal success. They also associate their characters with select car models to depict people's experiences with “normal” life in their respective countries, from the middle class in America to communities in late-communist Czechoslo","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"48 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136206378","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Documentary Film and the Flint Water Crisis: Incorporating the Sociological Imagination","authors":"Cedric Taylor","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.3.05","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.3.05","url":null,"abstract":"nor any drop to drink: flint's water crisis (2018) focuses on the ongoing water crisis in Flint, Michigan. As a cost-cutting measure, in 2014, the state switched Flint's water supply to the heavily polluted Flint River. Almost immediately, residents complained of the water's color, taste, and smell. Over the course of many months, they expressed concerns about rashes, hair and tooth loss, miscarriage, childhood developmental problems, and Legionnaire's disease. Belatedly, officials admitted that the water was contaminated. On January 2, 2016, the state of Michigan declared a state of emergency, which was followed by a federal state of emergency on January 16, 2016. As the crisis unfolded, the public was inundated with media images of protests, lead testing for children, and crowded water distribution sites. Today, Flint has largely dropped out of the headlines. However, the horrors faced by many residents remain. Punctuated by interviews that document the experiences of ordinary residents, Nor Any Drop to Drink: Flint's Water Crisis sheds light on how the failure of government and economic policy created the Flint water crisis. The film seeks to better understand why today in Flint, a city in the Great Lakes State, there is neither trust in governmental institutions nor any drop to drink.The film, which was my first foray into documentary filmmaking, was a collaboration with other faculty and staff at Central Michigan University. Daniel Bracken, one of the film's producers, had previously served as a producer at WCMU public television and produced eight episodes of the award-winning documentary series America from the Ground Up (2014–18). Eric Limarenko, associate professor in the School of Broadcast and Cinematic Arts, served as both producer and editor for the film. Donald Blubaugh, a student at Central Michigan University who would go on to work on the Discovery Channel's The Incredible Dr. Pol (2011–present), served as coproducer and as a camera operator for the documentary.Since its release in 2018, Nor Any Drop to Drink: Flint's Water Crisis has been screened across the United States and internationally in a variety of venues1 and has served as a launching point for difficult but important conversations about the true nature of American society.2 The film's open-access status3 represents a continued commitment to facilitating those critical conversations across diverse communities and among activists, educators, scientists, engineers, and all those who care deeply about social and environmental justice. During Q&A sessions that follow the screenings, I am invariably asked, primarily by fellow social scientists, “Why did you choose to make a film?” There is the precedent of anthropologists and sociologists utilizing documentary film as a research tool (Harris 63). However, many colleagues see my filmmaking as an educational and creative endeavor but not a traditional vehicle for sociological work. My responses to such queries and perceptions","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"70 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136206376","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"“Why Don’t You Go Down to Wall Street and Get Some Real Crooks?”: Capitalism and Masculinity in GoodFellas, Casino, and The Wolf of Wall Street","authors":"Ciara Moloney","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.2.04","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.2.04","url":null,"abstract":"©2023 by the board of trustees of the university of illinois aCross twenty-three years, martin sCorsese directed three films—GoodFellas (1990), Casino (1995), and The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)—that employ similar narrative structures and stylistic devices to explore variations on the same themes: class aspiration, greed, and masculinity in twentieth-century America. Though not a trilogy in the formal sense, the films are discursively linked, with Casino mirroring and expanding on GoodFellas and with The Wolf of Wall Street likewise engaging with GoodFellas and Casino. With extensive voice-over and a pop soundtrack, each film presents a breakneck-paced rise and fall of a criminal, with huge gulfs in each character’s relative social status: in GoodFellas, Henry (Ray Liotta) is a low-level gangster; in Casino, Ace (Robert De Niro) is a professional gambler turned casino manager; in The Wolf of Wall Street, Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) runs his own stock brokerage firm. Each film is a period piece that uses historical crimes to create a time-displaced critique of the functioning of the contemporary economy. Each film also deals incisively with various forms of masculinity, particularly hypermasculinity, through the prisms of class, ethnicity, violence, and consumerism. “None of It Seemed Like Crimes”: GoodFellas","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"75 1","pages":"30 - 44"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2023-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43428642","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"The Paradox of Steve Coogan: Performing Class in British Film Acting","authors":"N. Archer","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.2.03","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.2.03","url":null,"abstract":"“there shoulD Be a Cull on Posh aCtors.” This is an idea put forward by the English actor Steve Coogan, or to be more accurate, “Steve”: the fictionalized version of himself that he plays in Michael Winterbottom’s television series The Trip to Spain (Sky Atlantic 2017). Steve is listing, grudgingly, the number of old Etonians—former pupils of the exclusive and ancient English private school— taking lead roles in British and Hollywood film and television. Steve’s list includes actors such as Eddie Redmayne, Damien Lewis, and Tom Hiddleston and could also include, among others, Hugh Laurie and Dominic West. (Another British A-lister, Benedict Cumberbatch, attended Eton’s rival school, Harrow.) At a later point in the same series, Steve, speaking on the phone to his agent, rails against the idea that some other actor might take the role in a new film he has written for himself: for example, “Tom Hoddleston [sic]” or, as Steve then puts it, “some other posh twat.” While this outburst is technically coming from Steve, Coogan himself offers similar opinions in his 2015 autobiography, Easily Distracted. Here, one finds frequent references to the types of actors from whom Coogan distinguishes himself and whom he also perceives as having an unfair advantage in the screen-acting marketplace. Early on in his career, Coogan tells us, he came “into contact with an endless stream of people who were uber-confident and educated at Britain’s finest universities,” while Coogan himself was a “kid from a Manchester suburb who had failed English O-level not once, but twice” (18). Coogan’s self-narrative paints a picture of failed access to prestigious London drama schools such as the Central School of Speech and Drama and the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, both breeding grounds for future stage and screen stars. Although he secured a place in the theater course at what was then Manchester Polytechnic (now Manchester Metropolitan University), Coogan still claims to have been out of place, given that he did not “know anyone at the BBC,” and adds that he had not “been to fucking finishing school” but was “state-educated” (238–39). Despite this apparent adversity, Coogan has gone on to achieve household-name status in the UK and a degree of international celebrity as a movie actor, starring in films such as Around the World in 80 Days (Frank Coraci, 2004), Tropic Thunder (Ben Stiller, 2008), and, in his recent critically praised turn as Stan Laurel, Stan and Ollie (Jon S. Baird, 2018). Like the latter film, his various collaborations elsewhere with Michael Winterbottom have been characterized by performances of real-life figures: from Factory Records founder Tony Wilson in 24 Hour Party People (2002) to London erotica The Paradox of Steve Coogan: Performing Class in British Film Acting","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"75 1","pages":"18 - 29"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2023-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45489578","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Editor’s Introduction","authors":"C. Baron","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.2.01","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.2.01","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"75 1","pages":"3 - 3"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2023-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45031235","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"“White Girls, They Get You Every Time”: Get Out’s Horror of Miscegenation and Its Conception of the Black Bro’mance","authors":"M. S. Frank","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.2.02","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.2.02","url":null,"abstract":"©2023 by the board of trustees of the university of illinois miDway through Get Out ( JorDan Peele, 2017), the only reliably Black woman character, Detective Latoya (Erika Alexander), announces the conviction that I have appropriated for the first part of this article’s title. In full possession of her Blackness—because unlike Georgina (Betty Gabriel), the other Black woman figure in the film, she has not been body-snatched and psychically invaded by a member of the predatory white Coagula Order—Detective Latoya assesses the situation after listening briefly to Rod’s (Lil Rel Howrey) fearful theory that his best friend’s white girlfriend is responsible for his sudden and unexplained disappearance.1 Although the remark is offered with wry amusement at Rod’s agitation (and is heard by the audience after the movie has already dramatized the Coagula’s violation of two Black men who have been entangled in sexual relationships with white women), Detective Latoya articulates the central horror of Peele’s directorial debut: that the romantic and erotic space of the contemporary heterosexual interracial romance is a site of Black male wounding and destruction and is therefore one more weapon in the ever-expanding arsenal of those committed to the (re)entrenchment of white dominance and Black dispossession in the post–civil rights era. Get Out’s deployment of the detective serves at least two functions. First, as another Black person, she corroborates Rod’s movielong skepticism about his friend’s involvement with a white woman, thereby configuring a broader Black communal guardedness toward such relationships. Second, given Detective Latoya’s role as a representative of the law, her mockery of Rod’s anxieties about Black psychological entrapment and sexual enslavement, as well as her refusal to utilize the police department’s resources in order to assist Rod in Chris’s (Daniel Kaluuya) rescue, signals the film’s proposition that Black liberation will be effected in spite of the state, not because of it.2 Get Out argues that this is especially the case if the Black people accorded some measure of authority disregard historically informed, generationally transmitted communal knowing in favor of the United States’ official narrative of already-achieved Black emancipation and racial parity. Within moments, Detective Latoya disavows her own utterance about white women’s threat, because Rod’s elaborated fears fundamentally challenge her own status as a representative of white law and the presumed racial progress to which her professional role attests. Her destabilization is so profound that she seeks the reassurance of two fellow officers of color who, joining her as a unit, uproariously dismiss Rod’s allegations of white deception, interracial abduction, and coerced sexual relations as symptoms of lunacy and racial paranoia. For the police, it is more comforting to deride the messenger than “White Girls, They Get You Every Time”: Get Out’s Horror of Miscegenati","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"75 1","pages":"17 - 4"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2023-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44864281","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"According to the Narrator, It Was a Dark and Stormy Night: Styles of Narration-as-Advocation in True-Crime Documentary Series","authors":"Max Dosser","doi":"10.5406/19346018.75.2.05","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/19346018.75.2.05","url":null,"abstract":"©2023 by the board of trustees of the university of illinois on oCtoBer 3, 2014, the worlD was introduced to the largely unknown story of Adnan Syed, a young man who had been convicted and jailed for over a decade for the murder of his ex-girlfriend. Through the podcast Serial (2014–present), Sarah Koenig, the journalist investigating the story, brought to light how the fourteen-year-old case might not have been as open-and-shut as it seemed. In Serial, Koenig, as the host/narrator, guided listeners through old and new evidence in the case of the no-longer-young Syed. Almost two years after the debut of Koenig’s groundbreaking podcast, on June 30, 2016, a judge granted Syed’s motion for post-conviction relief and ordered a new trial to be held. Serial, “the most popular podcast in the world,” put Syed’s case on the map and led to a new examination of the crime on the grounds of ineffectual counsel (Gamerman). The popularity of Serial led to numerous true-crime podcasts as well as original series for Netflix, HBO, and other networks/streamers being developed at a rapid rate, though true-crime series had proven popular with the public even before Serial.1 The twentieth century saw an industry of true-crime novels, films, and television series emerge (Murley). The first wave of true-crime documentaries began in 1988 with Errol Morris’s highly influential The Thin Blue Line, which reassessed the guilt of Randall Adams after he was accused by David Ray Harris of murdering Dallas police officer Robert W. Wood and sentenced to death. What Serial effectively did, however, was thrust the true-crime genre into mainstream consumption. In I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, author Michelle McNamara paints the picture of what true-crime lovers were prior to Serial: sitting in the dark, they frequented chat rooms, using pseudonyms so they could talk about victims and who their murderers could be with anonymity (32). With Serial, Syed’s case became water cooler talk, as people openly discussed their theories on his innocence or guilt and their interpretations of the newest evidence each week, and the popularity of true-crime media expanded in the wake of Serial’s success. The comedy series Only Murders in the Building (Hulu 2021–present) draws on familiar true-crime podcast tropes, specifically the podcasts’ hosts, investigative techniques, and even fans. Rather than being a niche series, Only Murders in the Building became “the most-watched comedy ever on Hulu, by a good margin,” illustrating the popularity and cultural touchstone status that truecrime series have attained (Adalian). This article explores a specific aspect of true-crime series: the narrator. In particular, I analyze how the narrators of prominent truecrime documentary series deploy different strategies to cultivate credibility and convey narrative truth. Since the premiere of Serial, According to the Narrator, It Was a Dark and Stormy Night: Styles of Narration-as-Advocation in True-Crime Documentary Se","PeriodicalId":43116,"journal":{"name":"JOURNAL OF FILM AND VIDEO","volume":"75 1","pages":"45 - 62"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2023-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44153199","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}