All apologies

A summer that has been filled with film has taught me this one thing:

I’m a terrible marxist.

I came to grad school expecting to study visual media and cultural studies. For a large part, I’ve managed to do so. I have also managed to avoid taking a film theory class because I’ve been terribly intimidated by the great work that current theorists are doing with it… It’s far easier to critique something that no one else is. However, I forced myself to take a film theory class this summer by lowering the stakes – it isn’t with all my extremely intelligent friends in DC, it’s a mixed class so there’ll be undergrads too and it’s summer school, no one really takes it seriously. Anyway, I came to my horrific realization pretty early in the class when we watched some really great classics right from the Lumiere brothers to the russian formalists, some indie realist films, british new wave, etc. And everyone found amazing things to say about the way shots were framed, the psychoanalytic moments in the film, etc. while all I wanted was a good song and dance number in between or for someone to die dramatically. Film really is escape for me. A friend pointed out that this might be because of the kinds of film I’ve grown up on (mainstream bollywood and tamil cinema are not often known for anything besides their crazy sets, non-existent plots, larger than life characters and general awesomeness) and this might be true. As a marxist, feminist, deconstructionist, post colonial subject (grad school joke, ref: description of Spivak) I find this highly disappointing. My confession for the day: I ADORE films produced by the culture industry. I absolutely LOVE them. A good indicator would be the films I’m looking forward to this summer: Salt, Step Up 3D, The Last Airbender, Eclipse and The Takers (It has T.I AND Michael Ealy <3). Anyway, I'm sure Adorno and Horkheimer are turning in their graves somewhere. Le sigh.

I'm sorry I've let you all down, frankfurt school… I am a terrible marxist.


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