{"title":"档案:反黑人暴力和当代黑人恐怖的景象","authors":"Lauren McLeod Cramer, Catherine Zimmer","doi":"10.2979/blc.2023.a883820","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Dossier: Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence and Contemporary Black Horror Lauren McLeod Cramer (bio) and Catherine Zimmer (bio) This dossier gathers key questions, concepts, and resources for artists, scholars, teachers, curators, and admirers of contemporary black horror films. The form and content of each of its sections offers a way to think about the intersection of blackness, spectacle, and cinema as a point of collaborative thinking, aesthetic connection, and citational practice: • Section 1: A Conversation between the Authors • Section 2: The Sunken Places Image Gallery • And finally, Section 3: A Resource List for Study and/or Teaching [End Page 319] 1. A Conversation between the Authors Almost a year to the day the COVID-19 outbreak was declared a global pandemic we hosted “Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence: Teaching Horror ‘With Everything Going on Right Now,’” a seminar at the 2021 Society for Cinema and Media Studies (virtual) conference that focused on topics both authors regularly address in our research and teaching: blackness and anti-blackness, visuality, genre, and popular culture. Yet, what is hopefully evident in the session’s title, is an unease around these topics as they straddle the unresolved space between theory and practice, which is exactly the place where the current cycle of horror films largely driven by black directors and producers render the “atmospheric” violence of anti-blackness on screen and invite audiences to consider the spectacularization of black pain, trauma, and death.1 In turn, we invited our disciplinary community to join us for a conversation that began with a claim: films and shows like Them (2021), Us (dir. Jordan Peele, 2019), and Suicide by Sunlight (dir. Nikyatu Jusu, 2018) are about a black lived experience and, no matter how fantastic, supernatural, temporally or spatially distant the story is, they are also about us—film scholars, teachers, and makers. The seminar description begins, Asked to identify the genre of Get Out (2017), director Jordan Peele famously referred to the film as a “documentary.”2 The comment acknowledges his audiences’ multiple realities, that some were experiencing the inventiveness of this film as a new and exciting development in the genre and others were viewing it as a surprisingly literal rendering of their everyday lives. Peele’s “joke” about film genre feels directed towards those who remain attached to these categorical distinctions because, of course, an exploration of anti-blackness is well within the “the nature of horror.”3 Yet, visualizing the legacy of slavery in literally monstrous form is only an uncanny return of America’s repressed—if anything about Get Out actually feels distant or past.4 Instead, the film relishes the cinematic and actual familiarity of its characters’ postracial performance, which is evident in its quotability (“I would have voted for Obama for a third term if I could”). To call the film a “documentary” does not change anything about its content, but it does speak to our theorization of form. The joke hinges on the ‘obvious’ nature of a film’s genre, which is apparently much easier to discern and trust than black people’s accounts of racism. The specific reference to nonfiction film elaborates on this disavowal by pointing toward a faith in the veracity of the photographic [End Page 320] image that, even in our exceedingly malleable visual culture, is still treated as the most effective tool against anti-black violence.5 Even in jest, an obsession with the truth of the black experience displaced onto the image is far more dubious than the Armitage family’s colorblindness. The film is both the spectacle of anti-black violence and of learning about anti-black violence—a convergence that describes the focus of a distinct portion of contemporary horror film/TV and the most recent expression of the Black Lives Matter movement. As our seminar proposal goes on to contend, Get Out suggests that en route to understanding “the spectacle of anti-black violence,” is the spectacle of “learning about anti-black violence.” The latter describes the scary things these films teach about the terror inflicted on Black people and the, at times comparably chilling, things these films teach us about the people who are recognizing and confronting that harm for...","PeriodicalId":42749,"journal":{"name":"Black Camera","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Dossier: Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence and Contemporary Black Horror\",\"authors\":\"Lauren McLeod Cramer, Catherine Zimmer\",\"doi\":\"10.2979/blc.2023.a883820\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"Dossier: Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence and Contemporary Black Horror Lauren McLeod Cramer (bio) and Catherine Zimmer (bio) This dossier gathers key questions, concepts, and resources for artists, scholars, teachers, curators, and admirers of contemporary black horror films. The form and content of each of its sections offers a way to think about the intersection of blackness, spectacle, and cinema as a point of collaborative thinking, aesthetic connection, and citational practice: • Section 1: A Conversation between the Authors • Section 2: The Sunken Places Image Gallery • And finally, Section 3: A Resource List for Study and/or Teaching [End Page 319] 1. A Conversation between the Authors Almost a year to the day the COVID-19 outbreak was declared a global pandemic we hosted “Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence: Teaching Horror ‘With Everything Going on Right Now,’” a seminar at the 2021 Society for Cinema and Media Studies (virtual) conference that focused on topics both authors regularly address in our research and teaching: blackness and anti-blackness, visuality, genre, and popular culture. Yet, what is hopefully evident in the session’s title, is an unease around these topics as they straddle the unresolved space between theory and practice, which is exactly the place where the current cycle of horror films largely driven by black directors and producers render the “atmospheric” violence of anti-blackness on screen and invite audiences to consider the spectacularization of black pain, trauma, and death.1 In turn, we invited our disciplinary community to join us for a conversation that began with a claim: films and shows like Them (2021), Us (dir. Jordan Peele, 2019), and Suicide by Sunlight (dir. Nikyatu Jusu, 2018) are about a black lived experience and, no matter how fantastic, supernatural, temporally or spatially distant the story is, they are also about us—film scholars, teachers, and makers. The seminar description begins, Asked to identify the genre of Get Out (2017), director Jordan Peele famously referred to the film as a “documentary.”2 The comment acknowledges his audiences’ multiple realities, that some were experiencing the inventiveness of this film as a new and exciting development in the genre and others were viewing it as a surprisingly literal rendering of their everyday lives. Peele’s “joke” about film genre feels directed towards those who remain attached to these categorical distinctions because, of course, an exploration of anti-blackness is well within the “the nature of horror.”3 Yet, visualizing the legacy of slavery in literally monstrous form is only an uncanny return of America’s repressed—if anything about Get Out actually feels distant or past.4 Instead, the film relishes the cinematic and actual familiarity of its characters’ postracial performance, which is evident in its quotability (“I would have voted for Obama for a third term if I could”). To call the film a “documentary” does not change anything about its content, but it does speak to our theorization of form. The joke hinges on the ‘obvious’ nature of a film’s genre, which is apparently much easier to discern and trust than black people’s accounts of racism. The specific reference to nonfiction film elaborates on this disavowal by pointing toward a faith in the veracity of the photographic [End Page 320] image that, even in our exceedingly malleable visual culture, is still treated as the most effective tool against anti-black violence.5 Even in jest, an obsession with the truth of the black experience displaced onto the image is far more dubious than the Armitage family’s colorblindness. The film is both the spectacle of anti-black violence and of learning about anti-black violence—a convergence that describes the focus of a distinct portion of contemporary horror film/TV and the most recent expression of the Black Lives Matter movement. As our seminar proposal goes on to contend, Get Out suggests that en route to understanding “the spectacle of anti-black violence,” is the spectacle of “learning about anti-black violence.” The latter describes the scary things these films teach about the terror inflicted on Black people and the, at times comparably chilling, things these films teach us about the people who are recognizing and confronting that harm for...\",\"PeriodicalId\":42749,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"Black Camera\",\"volume\":null,\"pages\":null},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2023-03-01\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"Black Camera\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.2979/blc.2023.a883820\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"Q3\",\"JCRName\":\"Arts and Humanities\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Black Camera","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.2979/blc.2023.a883820","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q3","JCRName":"Arts and Humanities","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
摘要
劳伦·麦克劳德·克莱默(传记)和凯瑟琳·齐默(传记)这本档案为当代黑人恐怖电影的艺术家、学者、教师、策展人和崇拜者收集了关键问题、概念和资源。每个部分的形式和内容都提供了一种思考黑色、奇观和电影的交叉点的方式,作为协作思维、美学联系和引用实践的一个点:•第1部分:作者之间的对话•第2部分:沉没的地方图像画廊•最后,第3部分:学习和/或教学资源列表[End Page 319] 1。在2019冠状病毒病爆发被宣布为全球大流行的近一年前,我们在2021年电影与媒体研究学会(虚拟)会议上举办了一场研讨会,主题是两位作者在我们的研究和教学中经常提到的话题:黑人和反黑人、视觉性、类型和流行文化。然而,希望在会议的标题中可以明显看出的是,围绕这些话题的不安,因为它们跨越了理论与实践之间尚未解决的空间,这正是目前主要由黑人导演和制片人推动的恐怖电影在屏幕上呈现反黑人的“大气”暴力的地方,并邀请观众考虑黑人痛苦,创伤和死亡的宏大化反过来,我们邀请我们的学科社区加入我们的对话,以一个主张开始:像他们(2021),我们(导演)这样的电影和节目。乔丹·皮尔(Jordan Peele), 2019年)和《阳光自杀》(Suicide by sunshine)。Nikyatu Jusu, 2018)都是关于黑人的生活经历,无论这个故事多么奇妙、超自然、时间或空间上的遥远,它们也是关于我们的——电影学者、教师和制作者。当被问及《逃出绝命镇》(2017)的类型时,导演乔丹·皮尔称这部电影是一部“纪录片”。他的评论承认了他的观众的多重现实,有些人认为这部电影的创造性是该类型电影中令人兴奋的新发展,而另一些人则认为它是对他们日常生活的一种惊人的真实呈现。皮尔关于电影类型的“玩笑”感觉是针对那些仍然依附于这些绝对区别的人,因为当然,对反黑人的探索完全属于“恐怖的本质”。然而,如果《逃出绝命镇》的任何情节真的让人感觉遥远或过时的话,那么把奴隶制的遗产以一种可怕的形式形象化只是美国被压抑者的一种离奇的回归相反,这部电影享受着电影和现实中人物婚后表现的熟悉感,这一点从它的引语(“如果可以的话,我会投票支持奥巴马连任第三届”)中显而易见。称这部电影为“纪录片”并没有改变它的内容,但它确实说明了我们对形式的理论化。这个笑话取决于电影类型的“显而易见”本质,这显然比黑人对种族主义的描述更容易辨别和信任。对非虚构类电影的具体提及,通过指出对摄影图像真实性的信念,详细阐述了这种否认,即使在我们极具可塑性的视觉文化中,摄影图像仍然被视为反对反黑人暴力的最有效工具即使是在开玩笑的时候,对黑人经历真相的痴迷也比阿米蒂奇家族的色盲要可疑得多。这部电影既是反黑人暴力的奇观,也是对反黑人暴力的学习——一种融合,描述了当代恐怖电影/电视中一个独特部分的焦点,也是“黑人的命也是命”运动的最新表达。正如我们的研讨会提案继续争论的那样,《逃出绝命镇》表明,在理解“反黑人暴力的奇观”的过程中,是“学习反黑人暴力”的奇观。后者描述了这些电影教给我们的可怕的事情,关于黑人遭受的恐怖,以及这些电影教给我们的,有时相当令人不寒而栗的事情,关于那些认识到并面对这种伤害的人……
Dossier: Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence and Contemporary Black Horror
Dossier: Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence and Contemporary Black Horror Lauren McLeod Cramer (bio) and Catherine Zimmer (bio) This dossier gathers key questions, concepts, and resources for artists, scholars, teachers, curators, and admirers of contemporary black horror films. The form and content of each of its sections offers a way to think about the intersection of blackness, spectacle, and cinema as a point of collaborative thinking, aesthetic connection, and citational practice: • Section 1: A Conversation between the Authors • Section 2: The Sunken Places Image Gallery • And finally, Section 3: A Resource List for Study and/or Teaching [End Page 319] 1. A Conversation between the Authors Almost a year to the day the COVID-19 outbreak was declared a global pandemic we hosted “Spectacles of Anti-Black Violence: Teaching Horror ‘With Everything Going on Right Now,’” a seminar at the 2021 Society for Cinema and Media Studies (virtual) conference that focused on topics both authors regularly address in our research and teaching: blackness and anti-blackness, visuality, genre, and popular culture. Yet, what is hopefully evident in the session’s title, is an unease around these topics as they straddle the unresolved space between theory and practice, which is exactly the place where the current cycle of horror films largely driven by black directors and producers render the “atmospheric” violence of anti-blackness on screen and invite audiences to consider the spectacularization of black pain, trauma, and death.1 In turn, we invited our disciplinary community to join us for a conversation that began with a claim: films and shows like Them (2021), Us (dir. Jordan Peele, 2019), and Suicide by Sunlight (dir. Nikyatu Jusu, 2018) are about a black lived experience and, no matter how fantastic, supernatural, temporally or spatially distant the story is, they are also about us—film scholars, teachers, and makers. The seminar description begins, Asked to identify the genre of Get Out (2017), director Jordan Peele famously referred to the film as a “documentary.”2 The comment acknowledges his audiences’ multiple realities, that some were experiencing the inventiveness of this film as a new and exciting development in the genre and others were viewing it as a surprisingly literal rendering of their everyday lives. Peele’s “joke” about film genre feels directed towards those who remain attached to these categorical distinctions because, of course, an exploration of anti-blackness is well within the “the nature of horror.”3 Yet, visualizing the legacy of slavery in literally monstrous form is only an uncanny return of America’s repressed—if anything about Get Out actually feels distant or past.4 Instead, the film relishes the cinematic and actual familiarity of its characters’ postracial performance, which is evident in its quotability (“I would have voted for Obama for a third term if I could”). To call the film a “documentary” does not change anything about its content, but it does speak to our theorization of form. The joke hinges on the ‘obvious’ nature of a film’s genre, which is apparently much easier to discern and trust than black people’s accounts of racism. The specific reference to nonfiction film elaborates on this disavowal by pointing toward a faith in the veracity of the photographic [End Page 320] image that, even in our exceedingly malleable visual culture, is still treated as the most effective tool against anti-black violence.5 Even in jest, an obsession with the truth of the black experience displaced onto the image is far more dubious than the Armitage family’s colorblindness. The film is both the spectacle of anti-black violence and of learning about anti-black violence—a convergence that describes the focus of a distinct portion of contemporary horror film/TV and the most recent expression of the Black Lives Matter movement. As our seminar proposal goes on to contend, Get Out suggests that en route to understanding “the spectacle of anti-black violence,” is the spectacle of “learning about anti-black violence.” The latter describes the scary things these films teach about the terror inflicted on Black people and the, at times comparably chilling, things these films teach us about the people who are recognizing and confronting that harm for...