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Cinema and Revolution
Berlin Film Festival correspondent J.P. Picaper
is awestruck by the fact that “in The Gay Science (an ORTF-Radio Stuttgart
production, banned in France) Godard has pushed his admirable self-critique to the
point of projecting sequences shot in the dark or even of leaving the spectator for an
almost unbearable length of time facing a blank screen” (Le Monde,
8 July 1969). Without seeking more
precisely what constitutes “an almost unbearable length of time” for this
critic, we can see that Godard, following the latest fashions as always, is
adopting a destructive style just as belatedly plagiarized and pointless as all the
rest of his work, this negation having been expressed in the cinema before
he had ever begun
the long series of pretentious pseudoinnovations that aroused such enthusiasm among
student audiences during the previous period.(1) The
same journalist reports that Godard, through one of the characters in his short
film L’Amour,
confesses that “revolution cannot be put into images” because “the cinema
is the art of lying.” The cinema has no more been an “art of lying” than
has any of the rest of art, which was dead in its totality long before Godard, who has not
even been a modern artist, that is, who has not even been capable of the
slightest personal originality. This Maoist liar is thus
winding up his bluff by
trying to arouse admiration for his brilliant discovery of a noncinema cinema, while
denouncing a sort of inevitable falsehood in which he has participated, but no more so than
have many others. Godard was in fact immediately outmoded by the May 1968
revolt, which caused him to be recognized as a spectacular manufacturer of a
superficial, pseudocritical, cooptive art rummaged out of the trashcans of the
past (see The Role of Godard in Internationale
Situationniste #10). At that point Godard’s career as a filmmaker was
essentially over, and he was personally insulted and ridiculed on several occasions by
revolutionaries who happened to cross his path.
The cinema as a means of revolutionary communication is not inherently mendacious just
because Godard or Jacopetti has touched it, any more than all political analysis is doomed
to duplicity just because Stalinists have written. Several new filmmakers in various
countries are currently attempting to utilize films as means of revolutionary
critique, and some of them will partially succeed in this. However, the limitations
both in
their aesthetic conceptions and even in their grasp of
the nature of the present revolution will in our opinion prevent them for some time still from going as far as is
necessary. We believe that at the moment only the situationists’ positions and
methods, as formulated by René Viénet in our previous issue [The
Situationists and the New Forms of Action Against Art and Politics], are adequate for
a directly revolutionary use of cinema — though political and economic conditions
still present obvious obstacles to the realization of such films.
It is known that Eisenstein wanted to make a film of Capital. Considering his
formal conceptions and political submissiveness, it can be doubted if his film would have
been faithful to Marx’s text. But for our part, we are
confident that we can do better. For
example, as soon as it becomes possible Guy Debord will himself make a cinematic
adaptation of The Society of the Spectacle that will certainly not fall short of
his book.
SITUATIONIST INTERNATIONAL
1969
[TRANSLATOR’S NOTE]
1. Allusion to the lettrist films of the early 1950s,
which frequently
contained such blank-screen passages, culminating in Debord’s first film,
Howls for Sade (1952).
Translated by Ken Knabb (slightly modified from the version in the Situationist
International Anthology).
No copyright.
See the new section at this website:
Guy Debord’s
Films.
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