January 12, 1982

Bergson introduced us to a material universe of movement-images. And we plunged into this universe of movement-images that appeared as a world of universal interactions between images. And he showed how in this universe of movement-images, there was a chance distribution of a number of centers of indetermination.

Seminar Introduction

In the first year of Deleuze’s consideration of cinema and philosophy, he develops an alternative to the psychoanalytic and semiological approaches to film studies by drawing from Bergson’s theses on perception and C.S. Peirce’s classification of images and signs. While he devotes this first year predominantly to what he considers to be the primary characteristic of cinema of the first half of the 20th century, the movement-image, he finishes the year by emphasizing the importance of the post-World War II shift toward the domination of the time-image in cinema.

For archival purposes, the English translations are based on the original transcripts from Paris 8, all of which have been revised with reference to the BNF recordings available thanks to Hidenobu Suzuki, and with the generous assistance of Marc Haas.

English Translation

Edited

Renée Jeanne Falconetti in Carl Theodor Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc, 1928

Deleuze starts with a review of the three varieties of movement-image (within The Movement-Image, chapter 4), laying out characteristics and then providing several examples from directors (notably, Lubitsch, Lang). First considering the perception-image and a film genre dominated by this type, the Western (and the “false Western”), he draws from critical perspectives by Bazin and Leslie Fiedler. However, Deleuze also distinguishes certain types of montage corresponding to these image types, and following this overview, he dives into the perception-image (developed in The Movement-Image, chapter 5) for which, at a first level, there are two poles, objective and subjective, each having three sub-facets (perceptive, active, affective), and each sliding endlessly toward the other pole. He also emphasizes technical aspects (e.g. shot-reverse shot) and the link to spatial determinations and psychological determinations, these combinations corresponding to numerous examples, at once technical and typological. Deleuze then introduces “Pasolini’s very strange theory” of the “semi-subjective” or free indirect image, a term requiring a brief digression into linguistic theory. This perspective allows Deleuze to raise another aspect, Subjective Perception or “consciousness-cinema”, itself having various sub-types, with which he contrasts Rohmer’s take on this same discourse of direct and indirect styles and images. Admitting that in this analysis, he has lost the original duality of poles, Deleuze offers yet another duality: the character’s subjective perception and the camera’s fixed consciousness. Hence Deleuze starts to reorganize: a first level, objective-subjective; second level, a “real” definition of these two which refer to two systems of perception, one realized by the camera-consciousness, the other being its correlate, realized by the movement-image, that is, subjective perception-image. Concluding the session with an attempted reclassification of distinctions, Deleuze indicates finally that he will need to review all of them at the next session.

Gilles Deleuze

Seminar on Cinema: The Movement-Image

Lecture 06, 12 January 1982

Transcribed by Unattributed (part 1, 1:04:52) and Koné Assétou (Part 2, 1:05:02)

Transcription revised and translated with notes by Graeme Thomson & Silvia Maglioni; additional transcript revisions and time stamp, Charles J. Stivale

 

Part 1

I’ll just say straight off, I want you to consider the way we’ve been developing this up to now and the point we’ve reached. If you don’t do that, I fear all will be lost. In the last lesson, I was trying to make up for lost time, and what that consisted in was essentially this: I commented on or purported to comment on the first chapter of Matter and Memory. The question now is: what can we get out of this, meaning what help will it be to us, what contribution can this first chapter of Matter and Memory make to our research?

And if I were to summarize the angle, we took on these concepts in this really quite bizarre text, I could say, well it’s like this: Bergson introduced us to a material universe of movement-images. And we plunged into this universe of movement-images that appeared as a world of universal interactions between images. And he showed how in this universe of movement-images, there was a chance distribution of a number of centers of indetermination.

Don’t forget the wager that Bergson made in this first chapter. He introduced nothing that was not matter, which is to say movement. He certainly didn’t bring in anything of another nature. And in fact, he won his wager from the moment that the centers of indetermination did not imply anything other than matter and movement. These centers of indetermination were defined purely by the gap, the interval, between a received action and a performed reaction. The centers of indetermination could thus themselves be defined purely in terms of the movement-image.

We had a center of indetermination when, rather than a received action being immediately prolonged in the performed reaction, what we had instead was an interval between the received action and the performed reaction. As a result, from the moment that there were these centers of indetermination within the material universe of movement-images, three types of image resulted. I won’t go back over this. Instead, I’ll try to summarize what we’ve learned in such a way that we could say: Movement-images, the universe of movement-images, when one relates them to a center of indetermination… or, better, on this condition… on the condition that one relates them to a center of indetermination, will give us three types of image. So, what we have are three types of movement-image. The movement-images related to the center of indetermination give us three types of image: perception-images, action-images and affection-images.

It is in this sense that the center of indetermination will thus be, and may be defined as, a subject, a subject in a triple sense. That is, firstly as something that perceives an image, an image that perceives other images; secondly as a subject that acts; thirdly as a subject that is affected. Remember that here the word “subject” refers to nothing more than a movement-image that presents a gap between the action received and the reaction performed. That presents an interval.

Fine. Consequently, all kinds of problems arise that we’ll have to deal with. What kind of problems are we speaking of? Now we can take back our autonomy, so to speak. And we can say, well, the moment has arrived to consider a kind of intuition. Our intuition is that… it’s clear and we already knew it from the beginning… that the movement-image is only one kind of image. There are many others, though we don’t yet know what they consist of. However, we can perhaps begin to have an inkling of what they might be.

Because last time, we established this notion of the material universe of movement-images… or more precisely, the machinic assemblage of movement-images. And we said, well, yes cinema, or a certain aspect of cinema is a machinic assemblage, we might even say that it is the machinic assemblage of movement-images. But, and here I speak, in particular, for those of you who… who have followed what we’ve been doing here over the years, since it’s a theme I don’t really want to repeat. In previous years, we found ourselves attempting to analyze this concept of assemblage, and we concluded by saying that all assemblages were double, that they have something like two sides. If we analyze precisely what an assemblage is, we see that on one of its sides it is indissolubly a machinic assemblage of things – in this case, it’s a machinic assemblage of movement-images, while on the other side, it is an assemblage of enunciations.

In other words, it has, if you prefer, both content and expression. Here the content of the assemblage is the machinic aspect that refers to movement-images. But then there is another aspect, an assemblage of enunciations, and in this respect all assemblages are double. What rapport is there between the enunciation of the assemblage and its content? Here in the case of movement-images, we don’t know. All I want to say is that we are only considering half of the cinema assemblage and it is quite clear that a machinic assemblage of movement-images is coupled with a certain type, a certain form of enunciation.

What are utterances that we could call cinematographic? Might I say that in Birth of a Nation[1] or in The Battleship Potemkin[2] and so on, we have a certain style of utterance that is not simply and cannot be defined solely by its content but which may be defined as an enunciation of cinema? And why do I bring all this up now, if not simply to underline that all we’ve been saying regarding the movement-image concerns only one side of the assemblage? Once again, there are many other kinds of image. To the point that when I refer to the “enunciation” aspect of all assemblages, in order to let you intuit the existence of these other kinds of image we have to ask the following: Are there such things as enunciation-images? Must we give a special status, for example, to sound-images? Is the sound-image something different in nature to the movement-image? And, if so, in what way?

Well, all this is to say that at the point we’ve now reached, and now that we are beginning to plunge deeper into the movement-image in the hope we can draw some conclusions about it, we also know that there is a beyond of the movement-image, and that our work is far from done.

In other words, though it would normally take several years, we’re going to have to cover all this this year. If we don’t, we’re in trouble.

So, okay… what would the ideal be? The ideal would be that our analysis of the movement-image itself would take us beyond it towards all the other kinds of images. But is this really possible? Will it be the movement-image itself that will force us to discover the other types of image that form part of the cinema assemblage? That would be perfect. Just as it will be perfect to see what happens in any case.

But not only is there a beyond of the movement-image, which is to say something other than the movement-image. But – and here I go back to the exact point we’ve now reached – there is also a below of the movement-image. What I mean to say by that is that not only are there types of images other than the movement-image but that the movement-image itself in certain conditions gives rise to three distinct types of images. And it’s this that I want to go back to. These three types of image that do not surpass the movement-image – we are not yet there unfortunately – but which constitute what I could call types of movement-image that arise in a certain condition, namely that the movement-images in question be related to a center of indetermination. When movement-images are related to a center of indetermination that at the same time forms part of them, they concomitantly give rise to perception-images, action-images and affection-images – which are themselves all part of the movement-image.

Our task therefore is in some sense twofold. For later… it will be the search, regarding which we already have several intuitions, for types of image other than the movement-image.  But in the meantime, we have to make a precise analysis, or as precise as we can manage, of the three types of movement-image, namely the perception-image, the action-image and the affection-image.

But in what sense? What does this imply? This is our immediate objective, to analyze the three types of movement-image. Let’s try to do this armed with everything Bergson has given us. As a first point, I would say that a film is something I can always present partially. Please don’t tell me it’s much more than that, because for the moment we are deliberately limiting ourselves and reducing the question to only these types of movement-image.

So, from this restricted point of view I can ask: what is a film? And say that a film is a mixture, within given proportions, of three types of image. It’s a mixture of perception-images, affection-images and action-images.

Let’s imagine a quite childish, rudimentary sequence – one that is, moreover, completely implausible, though we will have to ask what is so implausible about this sequence that I’m now going to propose as a very basic example.

First kind of image: a cowboy filmed frontally, we see him looking and then we see what he’s looking at. He’s looking at the horizon in a western kind of landscape. This, I would say, is a perception-image. All this once again presupposes what we saw last time. Clearly, he’s looking for something. He’s worried. As Bergson would say, he’s seeking what concerns him and thus he ignores what is of no concern to him. What is it that concerns him? Are there Red Indians lurking about? So, first type of image. In technical terms I would say – though here I’m probably in danger of making a mistake – but it’s just to set out some concepts. So here you might have a series: Shot. Reverse shot. Pan. Perception-image.

Following on from this, a second type of image. We’re still within the domain of the perception-image. It all has to link up. Every image must be rooted in another. We’re still within the perception-image but it’s as though the horizon had begun to curve. We have already seen the importance of… what can we call it… what’s the word? You know what I mean. Ah, yes… of this curvature that the world of perception assumes. This is where the perception-image gives rise to the action-image. Because what happens when the world assumes this curvature? The things of the world, the things and beings of the world, are organized according to relations of distance and depth that at the same time define the virtual action of things upon me and my possible action upon things. It’s the birth of action. This universe curves and in fact Indians have now appeared at the top of the hill or mountain. One Indian, two Indians, three Indians… And so here we are, already in the action-image, or apparently in the action-image. The Indians descend from the hill, they regroup, they come galloping down and so the cowboys arrange their wagons. The action-image in this case might be a tracking shot. Fine.

Third kind of image: the cowboy is struck in the eye by an arrow. Close-up of his agonized face. Affection-image. I said before that there were implausible elements in this sequence but what are they?  What are they exactly? I say, let’s suppose that a film, from the point of view that concerns us, namely that of the movement-image… let’s suppose that the film is composed of… is really constituted by this mixture of the three types of image. As well as of passages from one type of image to another.

You can already see that, practically speaking – and of course the ideal would be that our concepts respond to practical problems that you might encounter in any film – there is no predetermined order. In which cases, for example, must the affection-image precede the perception-image? And contrariwise, in which case does the perception-image come first. We don’t know. We don’t know.

Here’s a case where the affection-image precedes the perception-image: you see a horrified face, but you don’t know the cause of the horror. First you see the horrified face and only afterwards do you see the horror, you perceive the horror. In other cases, this won’t work. In other cases, it’s clear that the emotion of the spectator will clearly be much stronger if we see first of all… if we have the perception-image first, because in that case it will have us saying: Oh, no! He’s going to be really terrified! In this case, it’s the perception-image that comes first. You see that – and what I’m about to say is quite simple – that we are in the process of grasping what for us will be a second meaning, in this progression — since once again what I’m proposing here is a very gradual research process — here we can grasp a second sense of the word montage.

Because when I spoke about montage at the beginning of the year some among you were surprised how restricted my perspective was in considering it. And they said, yes, but that’s not all there is to montage. It was clear. There are many other things involved in montage. But in the first term, in considering how montage worked, we looked only at a single aspect of it. Which was precisely the rapport of movement-images with a Whole of a different nature that they are supposed to express. The rapport of movement-images with a Whole, this Whole not at all being itself movement but of the order of duration. And it was solely from this point of view that I tried to distinguish between different types of montage.

I would say that at the point we’ve now reached, we are beginning to come across a second definition of montage: in this sense what we could call montage would be the determination in a given film of the rapport between these three types of image and their relative proportions. No longer the rapport of the movement-image with a Whole of a different order but the rapport of the three types of movement-image with each other, which is to say the rapport and relative proportion in a film of action-images, perception-images and affection-images.

Okay. But none of this — and here we come to my second point — none of this obscures the fact that in many films a certain type of image predominates over the other two. And after saying last time how Bergson provided us with the theoretical and conceptual definitions of these three types of image, now it suffices to forge a kind of pact so they can be recognized. And it is not particularly difficult to recognize them as they pass, even in the case of mixed images, even in the case of images that present us with a mixture of these types – what we could call secondary composite images. And this is why already long before the holidays I had proposed three examples of these types of image. I want to remind you of these while asking you to reflect on them.

Perception-image. Here I took the example of a sequence in a film by Lubitsch that I haven’t actually seen but which is cited by Mitry[3] and which he describes precisely in this way, a description that seems to me so marvelous… and that in any case I will need to refer to in a minute. The film in question is Broken Lullaby.[4]

The film begins like this. A camera movement captures the movement of a crowd filmed from behind in a waist-height medium shot. The camera continues to glide forward before halting at a precise point behind a one-legged man. It drifts into what is a kind of gap, a gap between his good leg and his crutch, below the stump. You see… in this interval, through this interval one sees…but who is this one… for the moment let’s remain with the one… so what is it that one sees? One sees a military parade. One sees a military parade and thus one learns that what this crowd, viewed from behind, is observing is a military parade passing by.

And what does the camera then discover? Another shot, the next shot. The camera discovers a legless cripple. You see, the military parade is taking place after the war. There is the one-legged man who lost his leg during the war. And then there is another man who has lost both legs, a legless cripple who sells small haberdashery items. Shoelaces. And while he is selling these laces, he experiences a kind of fascination regarding what is taking place. And so, he looks. He is thus in the situation of having the perception that Lubitsch had momentarily left hanging in the form of ‘one’. Who was this extraordinary ‘one’ who saw the military parade through, between… from this amazing point of view between the good leg and the crutch of the one-legged man?[5]

So here the perception-image, that until then was left hanging and thus appeared as an aesthetic effect of cinema, is now effectuated. Effectuated by what? The legless cripple, while selling his shoelaces, finds himself at exactly the right height to view the military parade through the gap beneath the stump of the one-legged man.

I would say that these two undoubtedly splendid shots; these two shots constitute not only a perception-image but an entire adventure of the perception-image. An entire adventure of the perception-image because it is first posed without being effectuated. Only later is it effectuated by the legless cripple, who isn’t depicted until the second shot. I would say this is a perception image. Fine.

The second example that I proposed. An action-image. This corresponds roughly to the example of the western I gave before but this time, rather than noting the mixture of images I will give you three pure examples. So… a pure example of an action-image. The other time I said — and perhaps it wasn’t by chance — that Lubitsch was a great artist of perception-images… and perhaps the filmmaker I want to speak about now, Fritz Lang, could be considered one of the greatest artists of the action-image. And I gave you as an example, this time of the action-image, the opening scene of the first Dr. Mabuse film.[6] What do we have here? An action that is spread over a series of images. A first set of images shows an attack on a mail courier on a train – a courier is assaulted on a train and robbed of a document. Second set of images: the stolen document is whisked away in a car, we see a car setting off, so you see we already have a system, a train robbery and then transport by car. Third set of images: a guy from the gang climbs up a telegraph pole – no I mean a telephone pole… I no longer remember which it was… you can correct my imprecision for yourselves… anyway he climbs a pole and makes a call. Fourth image: we see Mabuse waiting for this call.

So here you have segments of actions – that already contain something which much later… which is to say in contemporary times… will be brought to paroxysm by Wim Wenders – segments of actions that carry the fundamental idea which isn’t really an idea, it’s not a theory but a real practice of cinema, namely that the camera assures the conversion, takes upon itself the conversion of heterogeneous movements. It doesn’t at all homogenize the movements. Rather, it takes them up and it’s the camera that converts them. In Lang’s sequence: train, car, telephone. If you think of some of Wenders’ own great sequences with their movements of conversion, of what are literally changes and that also imply intervals… earlier on I mentioned a perceptual gap: the stump of the one-legged man. Now I’m referring to intervals between actions, and between segments of action in a composite action.

I would say that the first images of the first Mabuse give us in an almost pure state – though there can never be such a thing as a pure image… but just as I referred earlier on to an almost pure perception-image, here you have an example of an almost pure action-image.

And now for my third example. As I said, the third example is of an affection-image. I’m looking for the simplest examples, ones that come at the beginning of the film. Because as Mitry says, Lubitsch’s image comes at the beginning of Broken Lullaby. Just as the Mabuse sequence opens the film Dr Mabuse the Gambler… And now, speaking of opening scenes, it’s enough to view the opening of The Passion of Joan of Arc to see a film where the affection-image predominates.[7]

And we should know enough by now, if you remember our lesson, not to be surprised that the affection image finds its privileged place in the close-up. The face. Exactly in the same way as the action-image might involve tracking shots, the affection-image will necessarily imply the use of close-ups.

So, there you have my three types of image. This is by way of transforming everything Bergson has told us into something concrete. Which doesn’t mean to say that everything Bergson told us the other time was abstract. But it was philosophically concrete. Here we’re trying to move to the concrete… how should I put it… we’re trying to make it cinematographically concrete.

So, I would say… I would no longer say, as I did previously, that every film is a mixture of the three types of movement-image – of perception-images, action-images and affection-images. We’re saying something different. Obviously, there’s no contradiction here, I’m simply focusing on something else, namely the fact that we can distinguish film genres by the type of image that is predominant with respect to the other two. And if I’m trying to identify genres… all this is just a question of reordering… we will see as we go on… all I’m saying is for the moment completely provisional. There’s no real problem. What would that be, a film in which the affection-image predominate? It would be what we would call, in the words of Pariscope, a “psychological drama”. A film where the action-image predominates is what we would call a “crime thriller”. Why? I insist on this because it’s certainly the thriller that has introduced the idea of segments of action and of the timing of these segments. This is what Lang discovered and which later would be continued and expanded in other ways. The action-image really is the crime thriller, that’s where you find the majority of action-images.

So, is there a case… is there a genre as general as what I’m trying to define, in which perception-images predominate? Concerning this, I have a hunch. I would say that there is a genre in which the perception-image predominates, and which has invented a type of cinema in which the perception-image is at the forefront. And this is the Western. In Westerns you find very few affection-images and relatively few action-images. This is why my previous example, in which I mentioned a sequence drawn from an imaginary Western, was filled with implausible elements.

The action in Western films is overly stereotyped. There are no real inventions… of the type of segmented action that we find in crime thrillers. If I think for example of… In fact, all those films based on the timing of a hold-up… there, every time the action is defined according to our Bergsonian theme, which is to say the emergence of something new. For example, in a famous film by Jules Dassin, where during a heist an umbrella is used to gather up rubble.[8] Or in The Asphalt Jungle, where again the question of timing continually brings a new element into play.[9] And in fact it’s the need to ward off the unexpected… this is the place where action-images occur. A whole logic of action. Whereas this is not the Western’s problem.

I would say that the Western is actually the genre that has founded and developed to its purest state both the perception-image and the enchaining of perception-images with one another. Why?

There’s a famous text by Bazin on the invention of the western and how it came to be such an exemplary cinematographic genre.[10] And Bazin’s immediate response, which seemed quite strange to me, consists in saying: it’s not the form of the Western that matters, one shouldn’t look to the Western’s form, since what we have in the Western is, after all, something we could easily find somewhere else, in a completely different context. He says: what is most proper to the Western in fact – and already this is something that should interest us – are the vast horizons, the confrontation with rocks and so on, the line where earth meets sky, all that. The landscapes of the Western, its panoramic shots… But he also says that it’s not that either and if we really want to understand the western’s excellence, we must evoke something of its content. Which is to say that the western has introduced and created a real mythology of cinema. I don’t have the impression that this is entirely the case, but it’s of little importance. I prefer the moments where Bazin says that in western you rarely find close-ups. What’s more, the hero of the Western is essentially impassive.

And Bazin wrote some wonderful pages on one famous Western, Seven Men from Now,[11] in which he remarks on the impassivity of the face. No close-ups. No close-ups, no affection-images, even when the cowboy falls in love. He has exactly the same expression when he looks at his sweetheart as when he looks at his herd of steers. His gaze is continually fixed on the horizon, meaning that it’s truly a perception-image type of gaze. And in any case to introduce an affection-image here might not have been a good idea, we’ll see… we’ll see what problem it might have posed. But then, why say… you see what I mean… I wouldn’t put it as Bazin does. It seems to me of secondary importance that the Western creates a mythology that will be cinema’s own. I’m not even sure about this, because it seems to me you could say the same thing with regard to the crime thriller or countless other things. What is really specific to the Western on the other hand is something regarding its form. But not its objective form. Bazin is of course right in saying that the landscapes of the Western can be found in other genres. But what you will not find in other kinds of cinema is the way the entire film is built upon perception-images.

What is the fundamental problem of the Western? It’s essentially the fact that what is vital for the characters is to perceive, not to act. And if there is a mythology of the Western, it is this. If there is a mythology of the Western, I don’t think it’s the question of having taken good and evil as a subject. The struggle between good and evil is the metaphysics of cinema as a whole and you can find it everywhere. But what is specific to the Western is this: if you don’t perceive, you don’t survive. What we must consider here is the perception-image in all its senses. Perception above all else. Perceiving everything to the point that we retain only what, in a Bergsonian sense, is of concern to us. Subjective perception, which is to say perceiving everything aside from that which is of no concern to me. Perceiving everything including what happens behind my back. What does a typical Western duel consist of? The two guys advancing towards each other and so on. You see that from the perspective of action there’s actually nothing happening. These are not action-images. They are in no way action-images, they are perception-images and their beauty stems from this very fact.

And so, what does this mean? What is at stake in these images? What gives them such dramatic intensity is the matter of who will be the first to perceive. That is, the rule of the game is who is quicker on the draw. It’s a question of speed of perception. And, as for the Red Indians, one has to see the Indians and to see an Indian is not an easy thing.

Up there, on those rocks, on those Rocky Mountains, all that – that’s the essence of the Western. Here we see a development of the perception-image that would not be possible in any other genre. And why is this? There’s a book I really admire on the American novel by an American critic. A book by Leslie Fiedler who I believe has taught here… though I’m not sure, but I believe so. It’s called The Return of the Vanishing American. And Fiedler begins with a very apt idea regarding American literature. Basically, what he says is that Americans are a people with no history – of course this is pretty well known – but what has replaced history for them is geography. They have a geography. And he says that, while we always tend to speak of the Western, there are actually four major trajectories. And American literature is traversed by these four great trajectories. If you think about the American authors you admire, you can distribute them according to these trajectories. There is, he says, what one could only call a Northern – I’m pronouncing this poorly; as they’d say in a western, it’s a Northern – and then there is a Southern. And then of course there’s the Eastern. It’s simply that the trajectories are merely qualitative.

The Eastern trajectory is very well known. It’s the direction of the American who goes not in search of their roots but who attempts to re-establish a strange form of contact with the old continent of Europe. This is what they do in the East… so this would be Henry James, as a well as whole part of Fitzgerald. Of course, the great American writers partake of several trajectories. Fitzgerald also has a southern direction. He has both a Southern and an Eastern trajectory, meaning the return to Europe of the American expatriate. You find this in both James and Fitzgerald.

The North is a more complicated business. It’s the road towards industrialization and there are many well-known authors who deal with this.

As for the South, well… there you have Faulkner and many others, a part of Fitzgerald, and there you also have the great confrontation, the confrontation with Black people.

Finally, there’s the West. And what do we have in this case? Fiedler puts it splendidly. Ah, yes… it’s another confrontation. On the one hand, a confrontation with a completely new sense of limits or frontiers and at the same time, which is completely connected, the confrontation with the Indians. Yes, the confrontation with the Indians. This is what the Western discovers. But what does this imply? It implies that the border is no longer something that separates this from that, but something which is continually shifting. The border is experienced as something that is endlessly moveable.

You recall the fine passages of Marx on capitalism and its two aspects, the fact that it continually poses limits while at the same time never ceasing to push against its own limits, even as it creates others. We could say that the two major aspects of capitalism are slavery and expulsion. It continually poses limits within which it can establish its system of domination and exploitation. But, on the other hand, it never ceases to push back its own limits. It sweeps everything away in order to make way for a new organization. And, in this sense, it’s no longer a question of slavery but of clearing the land, clearing the land of its inhabitants.

To open a short parenthesis: why is it that today the Palestinians could be considered descendants of the Indians? It’s very odd. The Palestinians continue to say… they have completely grasped this… if there was a new form of the Western it would be… Arafat, it’s strange, he keeps on saying: “We Redskins… we are modern-day Redskins”. In fact, it’s not a question of enslaving the Palestinians, it’s a question of expelling them, of clearing them off their land.

Now, that’s a very different movement. Why? Why is all this, the idea of the frontier and so on, so tied up with the Western? I think that this perpetually displaced frontier and the rapport with the Indians become confused to the point that they become the components of a single perceptual world that is, in a certain sense, pure. But why is this?

Fiedler analyzes a figure of the American novel that unfortunately, it seems to me, has never really found a place in cinema… though there have been some examples. It’s the union established by the white American… the union established by the white American hero either with a black guy or with an Indian, a strange kind of friendship that will carry them off on an adventure. A kind of adventure that will be half expiation on the part of the white American and half discovery on the part of the Black or Indian. And indeed, respectively on the Southern and Western side, you have this confrontation with a black or Native American character.

What is the basis for this confrontation in the two cases? In each case the confrontation occurs in a very different manner. And here I want to read you a passage because it fits so well… and it’s also to show you how well Fiedler expresses it. Page 178. This is what Fiedler says, and yet at the same time here he doesn’t really sufficiently develop it, because there would be a lot more to say: “A myth in which…” – meaning the American myth… Fiedler’s notion… and I have to say it’s not a completely convincing one… is of a kind of union, this homoerotic union of the white American either with a Black in the South or an Indian in the West… and here we see the difference between the two lines, the southern line and the Western line – “A myth in which the non-White partner for whom the European American yearns is Black rather than Red, we tend to interpret as a parable of an attempt to extend our sexuality, to recover our lost libido.” In other words, it’s a question of desire. “While one in which the White man longs for an Indian, we are likely to read as signifying a desire to breach the limits of reason, to extend our consciousness […] in the language of archetype the Negro stands for alien passion and the Indian for alien perception”.[12]

Hence, in parenthesis, is the Indian’s rapport with mind-altering substances, which we don’t generally find in the rapport with a Black character. In terms of the myth, the Black man represents a desire that fascinates, a libido that fascinates, while the Native American translates an alien perception, the perception of an alien world that is wholly other. So much so that any Western involving a confrontation between cowboys and Indians could only be conceived in terms of images that at the very least tend towards pure perception, which is to say in the sense that both from the point of view of landscape and from that of the characters, the heroes who are tested, this will be a world of perception.

So, it’s taken me quite a lot of time to try to explain all this, but never mind… all to say, you understand, that there isn’t only… I can’t just say that every film is a mixture of the three types of image because every film has a type of image that predominates. To the point that I can no longer simply talk about montage defined as… once again, from this restricted point of view.

You see how this is different perspective from that of the first term… montage is now defined as the determination of the rapport between the three types of image that will give rise – the way I tried to distinguish them during the first term – to three types of montage, although these might well be four or five, but it doesn’t matter. These different types of montage in relation to a Whole. I had distinguished: montage of opposition; dialectical montage; quantitative montage; intensive montage.

So, here, we would find three other types of montage, quite different in kind from one another.

We should speak about perceptual montage when perception-images predominate in a film.

Then there is active montage, which is a completely different type, for example the kind of montage we find in Fritz Lang. And once again, I’m not saying that this exhausts either the question of montage in general or Langian montage in particular. It’s just one aspect. Active montage would be when segments of a complex sequence of action are placed in relation. And in fact in Lang’s case, he makes his active montage through inserts of a clock pendulum, which marks the time between each of the segments.

Then we have affective montage, the classic, not to say immortal example of which is obviously The Passion of Joan of Arc. Because, in fact, it isn’t sufficient for us to locate the affection-image in the close-up. We have to know… once we have established that we are dealing with a film where close-ups predominate – a quite normal occurrence in the case of films in which affection-images are prevalent – we need to understand how these close-ups are edited together. Because, as many people have often remarked, there are very few isolated images of the face of Joan of Arc herself. Dreyer’s close-ups in The Passion of Joan of Arc take, for example, the face of Joan together with another face, which might be an inclined or cropped part of a judge’s face. Beginning from which you have all the problems montage implies, but this time of a particular type of montage. From the very moment you decide to insert a close-up into a montage sequence, you are faced with a certain problem of affective montage. Particularly when it’s a question of editing together different close-ups. And the film undoubtedly shows amazing mastery in its montage of close-ups. Well, so much for that.

So, this is good. We’ve now finished… a new section of what we had to cover, this set of themes that we’re finally done with now that I’ve managed to catch up… maybe I went too fast at times, but it doesn’t matter. At least we managed to make up for quite a bit of lost time. So just to be clear, the new section we’ve just completed is: Commentary on Chapter 1 of Matter and Memory and its consequences for the three types of cinema images.

So, the three cases of movement-image are: perception-image, action-image, affection-image. And now our plan, our task alas, is already laid out for quite a long time to come, to the point that it will probably take so long that we’ll be forced to make some cuts. But we will in any case be forced to do so even before finishing with the movement-image. Actually, I’m rather in a hurry to finish with it as the question that really concerns me now is: what will the other types of image be? And yet we have to tarry a while longer, to wade into this business of the movement-image.

So, on the one hand, we’re attracted to this but that the same time we’re held captive by it. It’s a nice situation, one that seems extremely rich, affectively speaking. Or else we might get sick of the whole thing and that’ll be it.

Okay, but nonetheless our plan for the time being will be to make a detailed analysis of the perception-image, a detailed analysis of the action-image, a detailed analysis of the affection-image.

I would now like to make a detailed analysis of the perception-image in cinema. And then, if we see that it’s going to take too long, I will just give… I don’t know… some short indications regarding the other types of image. And then, finally, we can consider this done with and move on to something else. Unless we decide to work on this for the next two years… I don’t know. Oh, look… it’s too difficult to imagine. I was actually thinking I would have finished this in one term. I was fed up with it, and then we came up with all these new… we should have steered away from cinema. It’s driving me to despair… it’s too difficult.

Anyway, here we go. Perception-image. So, this is a new theme we’re going to be tackling. What is the perception-image in cinema? And I would say straight off because here we should… it’s going to be a bit tough at times…

The first thing I would say is that I would like to imagine three stages, since for the moment things are not really clear. It’s quite difficult. I would say that initially we will see a first level and we will discover that this might consist of two poles… I say this now, thinking we’ll eventually find better terms, but for the moment if we try to identify two poles of the perception image, it’s merely so as to divide our research. And we will realize that while this is all well and good, it’s still not sufficient. And each time there will no doubt be filmmakers who… I don’t wish to say that some are better than others in this regard, I’m completely incapable of making such judgments… to me this is all so wonderful…

And then we will identify a second level where we will no longer have two poles of the perception-image but two systems of perception. And then, we will understand that this too is not yet sufficient, or that there might still be something else, and here we will identify what are no longer two systems or poles but two states of perception. But for the moment these are merely reference points.

So, what I’m going to look at now are the two poles of the perception-image. In what sense can we say that the perception-image has two poles? Here, Bergson has given us at least one clue. And what is this? It’s the fact that there are two poles of the perception image, because we have on the one hand thing-perceptions and on the other the perceptions I have of things. Things themselves are in some sense perceptions. Though… in what sense? Not at all in the sense… once again, I remind you of the mistake we shouldn’t make… not at all in the sense where I would say that things are my perceptions but because, from the point of view of the movement-image things in themselves are total perceptions whereas the perceptions I have of a thing are partial perceptions. So here we have an extremely complicated state of affairs. The thing is… let’s say more simply that we will start by attempting… here you’ll have to bear with me and indulge me a little… with the risk that you might want to reproach me afterwards.

We have to begin from a much simpler question regarding the two poles of the image, namely: what would an objective image be and contrariwise what would a subjective image consist in? And here, we shouldn’t be too demanding, we should content ourselves with a strictly nominal definition, a nominal definition meaning extrinsic, in contrast to what in logic we call a real definition which would be intrinsic, that is interior to the thing we are defining. As regards a purely extrinsic definition, what would I say? What is a subjective image? It’s the image of a set of elements seen from the point of view of someone who is themselves part of that set of elements.

So, this is what I propose as a definition of a subjective image. Try to understand what I mean so we can spare ourselves all these endless discussions. It’s not that I’m now going to say an objective image is an image without point of view. Does such an image exist? We don’t know… In what conditions could it exist? It’s already too much for us. So, we should speak of something much more modest. I would in any case say that both the subjective and objective image refer to a point of view. But I would also say that an image is subjective when the image is of a set of elements that refer to the point of view of someone who is themselves part of that set of elements. And I would say that this someone who belongs to this set perceives. Again, try to understand what level of the problem we are dealing with. I will avoid referring, at least directly, to subjective factors such as dream, memory, hallucination and so on as this would be too easy. If I were to do that, the word subject would have too much meaning. If I include factors like dreams, hallucinations, reminiscences I would no longer be in the conditions required by my analysis, I would no longer be dealing with perception-images as such but with something of a completely different nature: dream-images or reminiscence-images whose relationship to perception-images I have no way of knowing.

So, when I use the term subjective image, from the perspective of what concerns me here, this cannot refer to a dream-image or a memory-image. It can only be within the restricted frame of what I had previously defined as the perception-image. And if I include dream, hallucination or whatever else, this can only be as a factor that influences perception. But for the moment I wouldn’t consider, I haven’t yet got to the point where I could begin to consider the problem of the dream-image or the reminiscence-image in cinema. Which is why I say, okay, for the moment in a purely nominal sense I will call the subjective image the image of a set of elements seen from the point of view of someone who themselves belongs to or forms part of that set of elements. Of this type of image, we can find countless examples in cinema. What’s more, these images have a kind of splendor. And they began to appear quite early in the history of cinema. Again, let me mention some examples.

First example. Subjective perception, this time in light of what I’ve just said, with an active factor, an active factor in the sense that everything in the image reacts. Where we have an active factor that acts indirectly on perception. I’ll mention two examples: one, a dance or fete, seen from the point of view of one of its participants. So here the active factor is strong. For example, a funfair seen by someone who is whirling around on a carousel. This could give us a number of subjective perceptions that would make splendid perception-images. Or else, a dance. The ballroom, with all the dancers spinning round, as seen by one of them. What a marvelous vision. The first is a famous scene in a film by Epstein, the second a classic scene in a film by Marcel L’Herbier.[13] So this first case I would call subjective perception with an active factor.

I offer you a third example because it’s so wonderful, another great classic… a film by Dupont linked to German Expressionism, Vaudeville.[14] A famous image in which the whole of a circus arena is seen by a trapeze artist in full swing. A prodigious image where the subjective perception is inseparable from a strongly active dynamic component. Because the subject, who belongs to the circus ensemble, is himself in movement, in the exact same way as the dancer I mentioned before… And Dupont’s images in Vaudeville are really quite splendid. So, there we have a first case of perception-images with an active factor.

Perception-image with a perceptual factor, which is to say where perception is in some sense redoubled. Here we have a famous image, one that is constantly cited in histories of cinema, from Abel Gance’s film La Roue.[15] An image that is widely regarded as one of the first subjective-images – in the sense of perception – ever to be produced by cinema. In this scene, the hero who has been hit… at least I think that’s what happened… hit in the eyes by a blast of steam… the hero, the train driver who has had his eyes damaged by a blast of steam, so here we have a perceptual factor…  we see his pipe, he picks up the pipe and we see it the way he does, or the way he would supposedly see it. So, we can say this is a subjective-image with a perceptual factor.  [Change of cassette] [1:04:55]

Part 2

And, lastly, the subjective image with an affective factor. There is an image that I think is quite beautiful in Fellini’s film The White Sheik.[16] Here we have a young bride, you remember, who is infatuated with an actor from a photo-novel… and then she goes to the studio where the photo-novel is being shot. There she finds the actor dressed as a Sheik. And the film shows him the way she supposedly sees him, and this is… it’s like… here Fellini has obviously used special lenses and a lot of different tricks to get the effect, this very mannered, stylized image. And we have the impression that the hero of the photo-novel is perched on a swing between two enormous trees, and you have all the exaggerated proportions of a hero, a hero swinging high up in the trees. Then what follows is what I would call an objective image. An objective image, once again in a very nominal sense, since I have no wish to complicate matters at this point, what I call an objective image… because what is it that happens at this point? It’s no longer the image of the young woman’s vision of the hero. Instead, we see that the swing is actually very close to the ground and we see him swaying piteously back and forth with no need to leap down from the enormous tree. He actually has only about a foot to jump down from the swing. So here we have the switch from a subjective image to the objective image.

Sometimes, however, it’s the other way round. In Gance’s case, he first shows us the pipe and the character in an objective image before showing us the subjective image of the pipe. So the only thing I have to remark is that if we limit ourselves to these two examples, I have two definitions: once again, I call subjective image the image of a set of elements seen by someone who belongs to this set, while what I call objective image is not at all an image without point of view – I cannot yet formulate such a complex notion – but the image of a set of elements seen from a point of view exterior to the set.

So here we can already draw a preliminary conclusion. Which is to say that if I were to rely on such simple definitions of the subjective and objective image, the one would continually pass into the other and vice versa. And this gives us some very great moments of cinema.

The example I gave you earlier on of Lubitsch shows a very clear passage from an objective to a subjective pole. He begins by framing… by showing us the military parade through the gap beneath the stump of the one-legged man. I would say that the way it is presented in the first shot constitutes an objective image. It’s completely twisted, extremely bizarre. The framing is from below the waist and we see the parade through this. What we have is thus a very singular aesthetic point of view. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if the point of view is bizarre. In this first shot the perspective is not part of the set of elements that is presented. And because it’s not part of this set, however artistic or aesthetic it may be, it’s therefore an objective image.  Second shot. This perception that at first seems so bizarre to us finds itself effectuated in the cripple. Ah, so that’s what it was… There is a cripple, and this is what he sees. The image has become a subjective image. Which is to say, the cripple is part of the set of elements constituted by the crowd and the military parade. We have passed from an objective or pseudo-objective image to a subjective image. Contrariwise, in the previous example we passed from a subjective to an objective image.

So what is this swing? We’re going to make a small jump here. When we have a swing of this type, it tells us that we have to in some way establish a status for these two poles and for the passage from one pole to the other.

Now, cinema and its techniques provide this. And it does so in a rather bizarre way. So, this marks a new step in our analysis. It provides it in the form of a type of scene, a well-known mode of construction: shot/reverse shot. Why is this? It’s because the shot/reverse shot technique is the site of an extraordinary encounter. It’s the site of the encounter between spatial and psychological determinations. But in what way? Spatially speaking – and this is the origin of the shot-reverse shot – spatially the reverse shot is the symmetrical inversion of a shot. Or if you prefer a simpler, more rudimentary definition: these two shots constitute opposite directions in relation to the same spatial plane.

Here, Jean Mitry… I believe Mitry has written some fine pages on this, such as when he says that the great cinematic moment was when this spatial structure of shot/reverse shot… this cinematic structure of shot/reverse shot, met with a determination of a completely different nature, that of the observer-observed. Now this was an event of major importance, but for what reason? It seems to me that this was the moment when the status of the objective and subjective image became more stable. In what sense would it be more stable?

Here I have a question, because Mitry attributes the meeting of these two aspects of the shot/reverse shot – the spatial determination and the observer-observed determination – you know what I’m getting at, I’m not going too fast, am I?

I’m talking about the shot where you frame a person looking and then the reverse shot where you frame what they’re looking at… Anyway, Mitry says that those who really made… perhaps not invented but… those who really raised this double aspect of the shot/reverse shot to the heights of great cinematographic technique were the German Expressionists. And here he cites a number of examples… he cites many examples such as the shot/reverse shot in a famous scene of Murnau’s Tartuffe.[17] But before that, he also mentions Dupont’s Vaudeville as being a great moment where the shot/reverse shot meets with the observed-observed structure.

But I wonder… because there’s just one question I need to ask, and I would say: No, no it’s not possible. There must be other examples. Meaning that it should be in the Western that this happens. It has to be in the Western that the shot – the cowboy – looks at the reverse shot, which shows what he is looking at. Because it would interest me greatly if this did happen in the Western. It would confirm that the Western can only be defined as a genre… as a genre of cinema where the perception-image predominates.

So, well, there we have to show that… at least I hope that we will see this happening in the early Westerns. But no matter. Let’s imagine that this is the case. So, what is it that occurs here. You compose a shot of a person looking. This would be an objective image, shot from a point of view exterior to the set of elements in the scene. So, it’s an objective image. Yet it is also already subjective since it is presented as the image of an observer. And then with the reverse shot you pass to the other, symmetrically inverse, side, which is to say what the person is observing. This time you have a subjective image. Subjective? Yes and no. Maybe… but not necessarily. It is subjective if what it shows is what the person is looking at and how he sees it, how he looks at it, the way he sees it. It might be more or less subjective, but it may also be objective if you have to guess – or choose – what the character that you see in the shot is really looking at.

So there too, in my second determination of the shot/reverse shot, you see how I never cease having to move from one pole to the other? From the objective to the subjective pole of the perception-image? To the extent that… in the end, what is the idea that results? Up to now I think we’ve been able to stay quite close to Jean Mitry’s reasoning. Which boils down to saying that the key image of cinema from the point of view of the perception-image is what we should call a half… a semi-subjective image.

So, it’s interesting the way he defines this semi-subjective image as the most common image in cinema, the one that more than any other has been able to impose its predominance. Though not always… not everywhere. Semi-subjective images can be considered moments of subjective images. But in any case, subjective or objective images constitute no more than singular moments in a film.

Let’s assume… let’s assume all that is the case. I have a strong urge to proceed very slowly with this. The Whole will normally be given by semi-subjective images. What do I mean by this? Well, semi-subjective implies something of the order of a reciprocal becoming. The subjective image that becomes objective and that is always susceptible to becoming objective… the objective image that becomes subjective and that is always susceptible to becoming subjective. Yet at the same time the semi-subjective image must have its own consistent status.

So as Phenomenologists might say, what would that be? As the Phenomenologists would say, I think that we have to… mustn’t we say that it is a kind of concept… or that it creates a concept linked to the camera? Rather than occupying the place of a character, it would constitute a kind of being-with the character. A being-with of the camera.[18] This being-with of the camera would thus define a something like a position of equilibrium of the semi-subjective image and would explain why, in consequence, the subjective image can always become objective, the objective image subjective and so on.

This being-with, this situation of the semi-subjective image’s status, where would we find it? In what figure?

First figure. The camera, filming from behind the character. This is a very important gesture in the history of cinema. We can clearly see the importance it had for Murnau, for example. The importance he gives to the camera filming from behind. But this positioning of the camera is also important to many other German Expressionist directors. We see it frequently used in German Expressionist cinema, with all the possibilities it offers. And then another figure… because if we want to be consistent, there are actually several figures corresponding to this type of image. You see my problem. What consistency does the semi-subjective image have independent of the fact that it assures the circulation, the transformation of the objective image into a subjective image and vice versa? What is its consistency, independent of this role of conversion or transmission? So this is the first figure: the camera filming from behind the character.

Other examples. What we call, or what we used to call – I don’t know if this terminology is still used – the tracking shot in a closed circuit. We have a tracking shot in a closed circuit when not only is the camera mobile, but this mobility has acquired an additional function. That is, it no longer follows a character but moves amongst a set of elements. It moves within a closed set of elements. For example, a camera that moves amongst a group of dancers, or amongst the tables of a restaurant. This has been crucial for the camera’s mobility. When the camera stops following and instead begins moving amongst. You see how what we have here is a completely different level of mobility.

So, we could say that this is also a semi-subjective image. Except that there’s a problem here, a very great problem. Even with this we still haven’t arrived at a status of the semi-subjective image. If we say yes, the perception-image… try to see exactly the point I’ve reached. Because this is where things get complicated. I have to obstinately pursue my problem. This is what I want you to understand. If I start from the idea that the perception image has two poles – objective and subjective – which I defined in a completely nominal, verbal manner… and here I would ask you to indulge me with these definitions which are only a starting point, we won’t have to limit ourselves indefinitely to this kind of definition… If we start from this idea of two poles, we realize that not only is there a bi-polar image, the semi-subjective image, but that this image has its own consistency. A consistency confirmed by the technical means of its production. And for us what is necessary is to establish a conceptual status for the semi-subjective image.

So, the hypothesis I would now make… though once again, we are only at the beginning of our analysis… I would say that concerning the semi-subjective image, which as we have seen cinema was able to produce or to attain, the question we have to ask is: what is its status? Evidently, we’re not going to find this in Mitry’s somewhat limited analysis. No, what we have to do is investigate a very interesting theory by Pasolini.

And this fascinating theory… give me time to explain it to you because it impressed me greatly, even though I believe it’s still quite obscure. In any case, it forms an essential part of Pasolini’s thought, as well as being some of his most original and essential thinking on cinema. Not only concerning his own cinema, but also the way he sees the cinema of other filmmakers. It’s when he attempts to formulate a notion that is precisely… no, not precisely since he doesn’t use these exact terms, which are: free indirect subjective image.

Free indirect subjective image. I say this… you see, I announce this, in order to spare you… If thanks to Pasolini we can manage to explain what this complicated multiple and barbarous expression – this free indirect subjective image – might refer to… If we can work out what this means, perhaps we will arrive at the status we were seeking for the perception-image as an image that moves continually from the subjective to the objective pole and vice versa. And perhaps this will enable us to advance considerably. Except that all this is highly complex. It supposes that I explain to you beforehand the way Pasolini understands it himself, and then the way I understand Pasolini, and then what emerges from all this and then… who knows what it will mean to you.

Because all I can say is this… I take Pasolini’s starting point. What he does in approaching the question we’re dealing with, the question that constitutes our current problem, is to borrow from linguistics. Which is obviously a rather tedious procedure. And even he doesn’t seem particularly interested in it. We’ll see why it doesn’t interest him much. But anyway, he borrows from linguistics because linguistics appears to offer him a distinction between three types of discourse. So, it is precisely in the field of discourse analysis that he finds the source of the notion he will elaborate in relation to cinema.[19] And when I say discourse, it’s because already we are no longer dealing with linguistics and you’ll see why in a minute.

Pasolini says that we can identify three types of discourse: direct discourse, indirect discourse and free indirect discourse. This is what we have to understand.

Direct discourse is when someone speaks and does so speaking in their name. This is well known.

Indirect discourse is when I say: “He says it was cold”. Or even when I say: “I say that it’s cold”. We are all familiar with both direct and indirect discourse.

Free indirect discourse… is interesting. In French, it’s quite rare, very literary. All those who – and this is quite important – all the grammarians who have studied free indirect discourse remark that it is of fundamental importance in the following languages: Italian, German and Russian, where it is much richer than it is in French. But I want to give you an example in French all the same. So, let me try to phrase an example: He told her that she shouldn’t go on the journey, that…  [Pause] that…

Student: [Inaudible; he tries to assist Deleuze]

Deleuze: No, no! Really, no! Just let me think. If you go and speak now, I… that this decision was dangerous. That’s why I don’t want anyone else butting in here… That’s it; it’s an example of indirect style. I told her the journey was too dangerous and that she was taking a risk. So that’s the first point. But she wasn’t born yesterday, she would avoid any danger, she would know to take the necessary precautions. Second point. I wasn’t convinced by her protests.

So, you see, that the second sentence is an example of free indirect speech. It’s clear. It’s… well, what is this exactly? It’s something that has a rapport with the sentence that the person in question to whom I was speaking was supposed to say by way of a reply. It’s neither direct nor indirect discourse. I told her the journey would be dangerous and that she was taking a risk. But she wasn’t born yesterday, she would avoid any danger, she would know to take the necessary precautions. But I wasn’t convinced by her protests. What has happened between the two speakers is a free indirect discourse.

To state it simply, free indirect discourse consists in a certain contamination or contraction of two discourses: the discourse of the person who speaks and that of someone else who reports what has been said.

Okay, let’s try to confront a problem that Pasolini addresses quite eloquently. It’s something that obviously fascinates him, but for what reason? What concerns me first of all is why this fascinates him as a filmmaker. And then as a literary writer, in particular as an Italian literary writer, since he believes free indirect discourse to be a fundamental component of the Italian language. But it’s also as a cineaste that it intrigues him.

So why is this? Being an author and a lover of literature Pasolini is intrigued by it for a very simple reason. He says that free indirect discourse has more importance for Italian than it has for any other language. Because Italian, he says, is a language without a standard form. Italian has never been fully homogenized. While there may appear to be a standard form it’s a language that mainly exists through two opposite poles, a literary pole and a vernacular pole – a vernacular that itself can be divided into numerous dialects. Which is to say a high culture pole and – without any pejorative undertones – a low culture pole.

What happened to high French, which is to say the process of centralization that led to the creation of a standard French, which eventually became a language common to an illiterate person and to a writer like Victor Hugo…is in the case of Italian, not so pronounced a phenomenon. In German – as in all languages where you find a discourse of this type, there is far less, or there isn’t at all, this type of imposition of a standard language. He saw why the free indirect discourse… [Interruption of the recording] [Pause] [1 :32 :16]

… So as a consequence, what would free indirect discourse give us? I wish to remain at the level of discourse analysis. According to Pasolini, there is… oh no, sorry, I have to pop out to the secretary’s office for a minute… something urgent has come up. [Interruption of the recording] [1 :32 :50]

Only at a surface level does free indirect discourse borrow from linguistics. Because it’s clear that according to Pasolini’s own definition, which I find completely legitimate, free indirect discourse is not a linguistic category. It is rather, as linguists themselves would say, a stylistic category.

In the end, if I understand correctly – since once again Pasolini’s thesis is, it seems to me, an extremely complex one – if I understand Pasolini’s thesis correctly it would consist in telling us – considering the point we’ve now reached, meaning the very general description of free indirect discourse we’ve sketched out – it would consist in telling us this: The perception-image in cinema is not exclusively – you understand that here too the argument is highly nuanced – the perception-image in cinema, not exclusively but in a privileged manner, is what we could call a free indirect subjective shot.

But what does a free indirect subjective shot imply when it no longer refers to discourse but to the movement-image? This is where things become at once crucial, interesting and extremely difficult for us. But always, always, if I understand correctly, this is what the free indirect image, the free indirect subjective image, would be. Let’s imagine a character or a number of characters whose view of the world the filmmaker attempts to convey.

So, so… Here we have a first level. The filmmaker wants to show us how character x or y sees the world. Normally, we could say that this would require a subjective image or, if you prefer, what we could call a direct image. A subjective or a direct image. But let’s be precise. As Pasolini says in his text, the filmmaker wants to show us the world as a “neurotic” sees it. There you go. A neurotic. Why this term? It seems to me Pasolini employs it in the same conditions that I thankfully posed earlier on, though with due precautions. It’s not a question of introducing what would be a “neurotic” image. It’s a question of introducing neurosis as an active factor in perception.

So, for example, it’s clear that obsession acts on perception. This is something we can take for granted. What we have in this case is clearly a perception-image that is subject to certain effects, which might be those of neurosis. Therefore, at this primary level, the filmmaker aims to show us the world in the way a neurotic character sees it. If this were the case, this would be an example of direct discourse, or if you prefer, a direct subjective image. Or else it might be an indirect image. But from the images presented to us we should be able to understand the way a neurotic sees the world. But in fact, according to Pasolini, there exists a second level.

And what is this second level? It’s no longer the point-of-view of a certain character, the neurotic. It’s – and here I deliberately use another term – the critical consciousness of the camera. It’s the critical consciousness, no longer the subjective perception. This second level is that of cinema-consciousness. So, there we have Pasolini’s two levels.

What does a critical consciousness of the camera imply? Already the situation is very interesting. Once you’ve found the way to assure a kind of contamination or short circuit between these levels, what will this produce? The result will be an operation by which cinema becomes conscious of itself through a subjective image of the character while the character in turn gains self-consciousness or takes a distance from him or herself – which would be the Brechtian aspect of the operation – through a critical consciousness.

You can see where I’m heading with this, and it’s Pasolini who leads us there. We’re no longer… we’ve already superseded the overly restricted point of view we began with… We’re no longer stuck between the two poles of perception, the subjective and objective image. Our pairing has evolved to become: subjective perception – critical consciousness of cinema. Or better point-of-view of the character – critical consciousness of cinema.

Cinema will attain self-consciousness, which is to say it will pose its own conditions, it will attain self-consciousness through subjective vision just as subjective vision will be raised to a higher level through this cinema consciousness. Strange. So, now we have to think of some concrete examples. And the examples Pasolini, who is quite modest in this respect, selects don’t come from his own cinema. And he says that no one is obliged to compose free indirect point-of-view shots… there is a whole range of options… films can be made – sometimes very good ones – independently of this.

Yet this is what interest Pasolini above all, and it cannot be taken away from him. And this is where he will develop a theory of what he calls “the cinema of poetry” as opposed to “the cinema of prose”. Whereas the cinema of prose is a type of cinema that operates through both direct and indirect images, the cinema of poetry – and this seems to me the only way to understand the distinction Pasolini makes between his two types of cinema… the cinema of poetry is what proceeds by way of this double operation or contamination characteristic of the free indirect point-of-view shot. So, but what would that imply technically speaking? We have to… Pasolini takes three examples – Antonioni’s Red Desert,[20] Bertolucci’s Before the Revolution[21] and Godard’s cinema in general – I don’t think he mentions any title in particular.

I’m not saying his interpretations of these films are necessarily correct, but they help us understand what he refers to as the “free indirect point-of-view shot”. And he says that there are two procedures in this cinema. The two stages of this operation are… Firstly, I would say, a kind of delay or redoubling of perception. And secondly, the second procedure… here we shouldn’t put words in his mouth, because otherwise we would immediately say: Ah yes, I see what that is. The second procedure is what Pasolini calls “obsessive framing” or the “immobility of the frame”.  Obsessive framing or the immobility of the frame. And it’s these procedures, of redoubling or multiplication of perception and obsessive framing that, according to Pasolini, will permit us to define the free indirect image. The free indirect point-of-view shot.

I’ll read you an extract from an essay called “The Cinema of Poetry” that you can find in Heretical Empiricism, page 179: “The two parts of the process…” – and what he will now say applies, he argues, to Antonioni, Bertolucci and Godard… as well as to many others… “The two parts of the process are the following: (I) the sequential juxtaposition of two insignificantly different points of view of the same image.”  – You see, the sequential juxtaposition of two insignificantly different points of view of the same image“That is, the sequence of two shots which frame the same piece of reality, first from nearby, then from a bit further; or, first frontally and then a bit more obliquely; or, finally, actually on the same axis but with two different lenses. This leads to an insistence that becomes obsessive…” This leads to an insistence that becomes obsessive. So here we have the first procedure that I can summarize as the delay and redoubling of perception.

Secondly, “The technique of making the characters enter and leave the frame, as a result of which, in an occasionally obsessive manner…” – you see how he returns to the word obsessive – “the editing comes to consist of a series of pictures – which we can call informal – where the characters enter, say or do something, and then go out, leaving the picture once again to its pure, absolute significance as picture. This picture is followed by another analogous picture, where the characters enter, etc. So that the world is presented as if regulated by a myth of pure pictorial beauty that the personages invade, it is true, but adapting themselves to the rules of that beauty instead of profaning them with their presence”.

Here he expresses it splendidly. You see how in these procedures, which he himself describes as obsessive, we have passed from the two poles – objective and subjective – of perception to another pairing: subjective perception is made to resonate with a cinema-consciousness… cinema-consciousness with a hyphen.

What is the law that governs the contamination between the two? Clearly, here there is necessarily a rapport that can be articulated between the subjective perception – for example when characters, as he says, enter or leave the frame – and the frame that serves as a picture and that will persist following their departure. And then we have a new frame and other or the same characters enter or leave and again the frame remains. What you have here is a fixed camera-consciousness. Well, well… I’m afraid I can’t say everything straight out. That’s my curse.

Fixed camera-consciousness – that’s wonderful – isn’t this the small thread in the movement-image that will, perhaps later and raising a whole set of new problems, permit us to get out of this first kind of image that we have dubbed movement-image? So, we have fixed camera-consciousness and movement, endless movement of the characters who exit the frame, enter the frame, re-exit the frame, enter another frame and so on. Here we have a sort of contamination between the world as it is seen by the characters in the frame and the frame itself as a kind of critical consciousness, which is to say an operation that passes through the subjective image just as the subjective image is raised to a higher level.

On what conditions? On those of the expressible relations between the two levels: the level of the subjective image of the neurotic character and that of the critical camera-consciousness. So what might this rapport consist in? In the case of Antonioni’s Red Desert, Pasolini considers examples where a character, or where one of the main characters, is a neurotic. Here the text is very clear. He says that finally the level of camera-consciousness in Antonioni’s Red Desert is essentially an aesthetic consciousness that operates by means of pictures. An aesthetic consciousness, the realm of the aesthete. Well.

Regarding Bertolucci, he says that what we find here appears at first to be of the same order. For example, the fixed shots showing a river or the streets of Parma, which will play a similar role. Except that this time it’s no longer a question of camera-consciousness, meaning that the second level doesn’t present itself as an aesthetic consciousness. In this sense, Bertolucci’s expectations are higher… Here, Pasolini suggests we have a sort of contamination between the character’s neurosis – once again, in this particular case, we’re dealing with a neurotic – between the neurosis of the character and that of Bertolucci himself. Clearly, he’s being a bit harsh on Bertolucci here, but I think he means something else. Let’s try to help him: it’s not exactly a fixed camera-consciousness, it’s no longer, as we had in Antonioni, an aesthetic consciousness. I would say that what we would have here is something more akin to a reflexive consciousness.

In Godard’s case it suffices to consider certain nuances. But at the same time, it’s again something of a completely different order. Here the fixed camera consciousness, when it appears in the same conditions, will act as a consciousness… and Pasolini describes it well… There’s a passage and one phrase in particular that explains it very clearly. Godard has not accepted any imperative: “There is instead, a somewhat brutal and even slightly vulgar quality in Godard’s cultural formation. The elegy is inconceivable to him because, being a Parisian, he cannot be touched by such a provincial, rustic sentiment. Nor can he conceive of Antonioni’s formal classicism, for the same reason. He is completely post-impressionistic. He retains nothing of the old sensuality which stagnates in the conservative, marginal area between the Po and Rome…” – Bertolucci’s old stamping ground – “…even when it has become very Europeanized, as it has in Antonioni. Godard has not accepted any moral imperative. He feels neither the obligations of Marxist commitment (old stuff), nor the bad faith of academia (provincial stuff). His vitality is without restraints, modesty, or scruples. It reconstitutes the world within itself. It is also cynical toward itself. The poetics of Godard is ontological – it is called cinema. His formalism is thus a technicality.”

You see, the answer here would be: No, in Godard’s case what we have is not an aesthetic consciousness like Antonioni’s in Red Desert, nor is it a reflexive consciousness in the style of Bertolucci. It’s a technical consciousness that becomes the bearer of a kind of poetry and that will take up the mantle of the cinema of poetry.

Okay, fine… well, actually, no, as this is all quite abstruse. I would almost say that we would need to expand upon it. And here I’ve found a short text that I want to alert you to, because it left me in a kind of stupor. Someone gave me a copy of an old number of Cahiers Renaud-Barrault where there’s an article by Eric Rohmer from 1977.[22] Now, I would say Eric Rohmer is very important, his films are very important, but what remains mysterious to me is this: the fact that Rohmer’s text is called “The film and the three planes of discourse: direct/indirect/hyper-direct”.

Here, we’re not interested in what he calls “hyper-direct”. This has nothing to do with the free indirect. But I find it odd that Rohmer establishes his categories without the slightest reference to Pasolini’s texts, which were written long before 1977. So, I wonder: is this because he wasn’t aware of them, which seems to me pretty far-fetched since Rohmer is very well read and, apart from being a great filmmaker, he is also a brilliant cinema critic? It’s bizarre. He must have known about them. So, the only thing I can imagine is that, if he doesn’t refer to Pasolini, it’s because he thinks he has something else to say on the matter. But I would say that he’s wrong on that count because, in my view, he doesn’t say anything new.

While Rohmer’s text is in its own way quite extraordinary, it can be understood only in reference to Pasolini. Because Rohmer, who at that time was thinking… or maybe he was already filming The Marquise of O… he says that in literature, in Kleist’s text, in Kleist’s story, there is something striking, which is to say the literary form of a very peculiar type of indirect discourse.

And that this particular form of indirect discourse plays an important role. And my problem – he says, concerning The Marquise of O – my problem is how to convey this. How to convey this? He appears to suggest that the only way he can do so is through the dialogue… and in this regard, I must be honest, he speaks only about dialogue. Yet it seems to me that the text as a whole shows him going beyond dialogue and that what he says relates also to the movement-image.  

And I would say that in The Marquise of O, but also in the Moral Tales,[23] Rohmer somehow adds a fourth dimension to Pasolini’s schema. To the point that Rohmer’s, it seems to me – and I don’t know if this is a good or a bad thing… it’s of no importance – is no longer the aesthetic consciousness of cinema. Nor is it the perceptual consciousness of cinema. Nor the technical consciousness of cinema. It’s actually the moral consciousness of cinema. The ethical consciousness. Not by chance are his tales precisely Moral Tales to which The Marquise d’O constitutes a further addition.

Now, how does he attain this? Here too, we have a problem which is articulated at two levels: firstly, what the characters do and what they say on entering and exiting the frame which is treated as a picture. And secondly, the camera-consciousness in the way it establishes the picture, and the succession of pictures as well as the contamination between the two – meaning between the world as it is seen by the Marquise, who finds herself in a bizarre situation that affects her perception… and the world as the camera shows it to us. And it’s in this that we have the contamination between the two levels. Although it must also be said that it is through the world as it is seen by the Marquise that the camera and cinema become conscious of themselves. Just as it is through the frame, the way the camera fixes it, that the Marquise becomes conscious of herself. There is a kind of two-fold operation that cinema requires, and this is what it consists in. And this is what Pasolini calls the cinema of poetry.

So whether it be, if you prefer… Here I’m just pointing out the main trends. What I mean to say – and this is the point I’ve now reached – what I mean is… but I would ask you to bear in mind that for the moment all this is rather confused. Maybe it’s all clear to you. But for me it’s still very vague and confused. And since this isn’t how I want to pursue this problem, I just want to note the state of things as they appear after looking at Pasolini’s theoretical conception, which I find very interesting.

To summarize and to understand the point of our analysis, I would say only this: if we begin from a purely extrinsic definition, we can always define perception-images as being either objective or subjective. But at the same time, we see how they continually pass into one another. From this arises a simple notion. Which is to say that of the semi-subjective image. Yet this semi-subjective image doesn’t limit itself to passing from one pole to the other. It must attain its own consistency. One attempt… and I won’t say any more than this… one attempt to establish the consistency of the semi-subjective image from the point of view of perception would be that of Pasolini – an attempt that he also attributes to other filmmakers. And there in my example, I would try to apply it, as Pasolini does, to three filmmakers, in particular to whom I would add another, namely Rohmer. And this status taken up by the semi-subjective image would be that of the free indirect subjective. This free indirect subjective image would be defined not simply by its oscillation from the objective to the subjective pole and vice versa but by the co-existence of two levels: the subjective perception of a character or, to be more precise, the subjective, mobile perception of a character on one hand and the fixed consciousness of the camera on the other.

For the semi-subjective image to be well-founded and for the two levels to be able to communicate, what is required is that there be a clearly expressible relation between them such that, once again, the camera becomes aware of itself through the story of the characters and likewise, the characters become aware of, or else distance themselves, from their own perception on the basis of this camera-consciousness. So, if we assume that this is the case, if this is the truth of the matter, it will consist in saying… that we now have to find another definition that would no longer be purely extrinsic. So, you see what we have done, finally? We’ve shifted our duality: in place of the duality of the two poles, we now have the duality between a character’s mobile subjective perception and a fixed camera-consciousness.

Yes? [A student wants to ask a question] Just a second, because… This is what the duality has become.  So, now we absolutely have to reorder everything. Which means we now require a real definition of what we mean by objective/subjective. We will recommence from a real definition and then see together if this leads us down a similar path. Here, thanks to Pasolini, I think we made some progress but now we find ourselves in a kind of impasse. What is this camera-consciousness, this cinema-consciousness where it’s no longer a question of the filmmaker? What is it? This cinema consciousness that everyone has claimed, in one way or another. Whether it be conceived in an aesthetic manner, a technical manner, a moral manner or whatever. It’s an extremely complicated matter. What is it? What will it permit us to do?

For the moment I’m only making… the first level of my analysis of objective and subjective. At the second level, we should be able to attain a real definition of these two terms. So, the real definition seems a simple matter. It derives from the moment we perceive that subjective and objective don’t simply refer to poles of perception but to two systems of perception. You see how this lets us advance. If it no longer just a question of poles but of two systems of perception, then yes… perhaps one of the systems is effectuated by the camera-consciousness. Whereas the other system: what is it effectuated by? Here I have to let it out of the bag: by the movement-image. But if the movement-image effectuates one of the systems, what types of image will the other system relate to? Ah, okay! This means that right from the start there must have been something other than the movement-image. Ah, yes! But what? And how will this confrontation between the movement-image and something other than the movement-image occur? Yes? What do you wish to say?

Student: [Inaudible question]

Deleuze: Like a narrator, one shouldn’t do it.

Student: [Inaudible remark]

Deleuze: Yes, one could say that. Granted, you could say that. I’ll tell you, it seems to me highly regrettable, but one could say that. Because what we have here isn’t at all a problem of narration. At the point we’ve now reached, a thing like that might come up but I don’t know if we will ever run into this kind of problem. But at the point I’m at now, it’s not at all a problem of narration. What we’re dealing with is a problem of pure perception. If you throw this question of narration at me, I would say the camera – and I believe that camera-consciousness has nothing to do either with narration or non-narration – the camera is entirely a question of perception. What I want to say is something I’ve been repeating right from the beginning but that we haven’t yet had time to fully examine. It’s a problem of the eye and not the story or narration. A problem of the eye. What do I mean by this? The camera isn’t simply a more perfect human eye. If it’s an eye, it’s a non-human eye. It’s a non-human eye.

What does that mean? Does it mean an animal eye? No, it doesn’t mean an animal eye. An animal eye is the eye of an animal, it’s not a non-human eye. Can we attribute a real sense or meaning to the expression, or to the notion of a non-human eye on the basis of the camera alone?

This is why I would require other… I don’t expect… I wouldn’t be able to trace a complete history of cinema. If we want to find someone who, for example, has linked cinema-consciousness to the position and the invention of a non-human eye as such, rather than looking in the direction of Pasolini and modern cinema, we should look instead to Dziga Vertov. That there is a line linking Vertov to Godard in this sense is clear, there are all kinds of connections we can make, and of course there is a line running from Vertov to Godard.

But Vertov, it’s not… If I already mention him now in anticipation of what I still have to cover, It’s that he… we can’t… for him too it’s not a question of narration. It’s really… I mean in what sense, in what way can the camera produce or invent an eye, an eye we can only call… not at all an eye that would compete with… or that would represent some kind of improvement or enhancement. It’s not a question of seeing what humans cannot see. That’s not what he means by Kino-eye. It’s not that. The Kino-eye really means the fabrication of a non-human eye. But what is a non-human eye? Okay, if I decide to reveal everything at this point, you will see what’s going to happen. It’s enough – and I want you to really feel this – it’s enough that our two levels… there! And I’ll leave it at that because it’s all too complicated, you understand…

We began with two poles of perception and now these two poles have become a couple: perception-consciousness. Subjective perception of a character – fixed consciousness of the camera. You can see that we don’t have to pursue the analysis much further to arrive at… well, the perception-image, subjective perception is equivalent here to a movement-image. It’s that of the characters who leave the frame, enter the frame and so on. That’s where the movement-image has taken refuge now. But then what is the fixed consciousness of cinema? What is it? How does it occur? And the two are… they’re inseparable. What will enable us to exit from the necessity of the movement-image is something that at the same time remains its correlate. So, what is the movement-image now? Now I would say that the movement-image is a first level.

You see how I’m in the process of transforming my two levels. Regarding the movement-image, I’m no longer speaking of the subjective perception of the character. I no longer need to, since it is the character insofar as they enter, leave, re-enter the frame and so on. This is the movement-image. That’s what it is. The movement-image is perhaps linked to the characters. You see, it’s tied to the characters. But then the fixed consciousness of the camera which is in fact a correlative of the movement-image – and I would add strictly correlative – what is it linked to? What was our definition of the movement-image? We said that the movement-image is an average image and in being average it is endowed with movement. So many frames per second. That’s what the movement-image is. And a close-up is not a single frame, except in certain cases. A classic close-up is a movement-image. So many frames per second. That’s what it is. The movement-image is the average image defined by a certain number of frames per second.

And so, what is cinema consciousness? It’s the work on the frame. Let’s suppose – which doesn’t mean excluding other possibilities – that it could be this. It could be this. What is the fixed consciousness of the camera? It’s what we can do with a frame. What I mean by this is that my two levels give rise to a triple displacement… I pass from the movement-image to what?

First determination. First level: average image. Second level: still frame.

Second Determination. First level: movement. Second level: interval between movements. Not by chance does Vertov lay claim to a theory of intervals.

Third determination. First level: camera. Second level: editing table. The editing table that permits work on each single frame.

Well, there I’ve already said too much. I would say that’s how our levels are arranged. The confrontation we were seeking would thus become that between the average image on the one hand, which in its being average is endowed with cinematographic movement, and the frame-interval that refers to the editing table on the other, which would itself refer to another type of image. And it will be the confrontation between these two levels. And here I would say that the first person in cinema to produce such a confrontation between the two levels, in which we find Pasolini’s notion but in a completely different form – the idea of a critical cinema-consciousness confronting the movement-image and of the movement-image confronting this critical consciousness – would indeed be Vertov.

And at this point something extraordinary is produced. It’s no longer a question of critiquing the movement-image in cinema by saying that it’s a false movement, an illusion, which if you remember was our Bergsonian starting point. It’s no longer that. It’s a question of critiquing the movement-image in saying that this is not yet cinema. It may be real movement, but it isn’t yet what we could call cinema. Now everything has changed, meaning that the critique has become internal to cinema. It’s no longer a critique of cinema, but a critique conducted by cinema itself. It is cinema’s own task to critique the movement-image. And so, it’s not the critique of the movement-image that constitutes a critique of cinema.

So, there you have it. Things are getting more and more complicated. So, we can stop here. Any questions? Questions would be… but I’ll come back to this the next time. [End of the recording] [2:09:56]

 

Notes

[1] Birth of a Nation (1915), directed by D. W. Griffith, regarded as a pioneer of classical narrative montage.

[2] The Battleship Potemkin (1925), directed by Sergei Eisenstein, regarded as a pioneer of conceptual montage.

[3] Jean Mitry (1904-1981) was a French film historian, critic and theorist. Here Deleuze makes reference to his book Esthetique et psychologie du cinéma (1965) – The Aesthetics and Psychology of Cinema, trans. Christopher King Bloomington, Indiana University Press 1997.

[4] Broken Lullaby (1932), otherwise known as The Man I Killed, edited by Ernst Lubitsch starring Lionel Barrymore, based on Maurice Rostand’s play The Man I Killed.

[5] Deleuze makes more detailed reference to Mitry’s description of this scene in Chapter 2: Frame and shot, framing and cutting of Cinema 1: The Movement-Image, trans. Hugh Tomlinson and Barbara Habberjam, London, Athlone Press 1986, p. 15.

[6] Dr. Mabuse the Gambler (1922) adapted from a novel by Norbert Jacques and directed by Fritz Lang in two parts: The Great Gambler and Inferno. Lang went on to make two more films inspired by the character of Dr. Mabuse, The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1932) and The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse (1960).

[7] The Passion of Joan of Arc (1927) directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer, starring Renée Falconetti and Antonin Artaud. Originally conceived as a sound film, owing to technical difficulties Dreyer was eventually forced to make it as a silent movie, hence the disconcerting feel the viewer has of watching a film that adopts the codes of sound cinema while remaining silent.

[8] The Dassin film Deleuze is referring to here is Rififi (1955).

[9] The Asphalt Jungle (1950), a famous heist thriller directed by John Huston, starring Sterling Hayden.

[10] See the chapter “The Western: Or the American Film Par Excellence” in André Bazin, What is Cinema: Vol. 2, trans. Hugh Gray, Berkeley, Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971. p. 140.

[11] Seven Men from Now (1956) directed by Budd Boetticher, starring Randolph Scott and Lee Marvin.

[12] See Leslie Fiedler, The Return of the Vanishing American, New York: Stein & Day, 1968, p. 178.

[13] The films Deleuze evokes here are Jean Epstein’s The Faithful Heart (1923) and Marcel L’Herbier’s El Dorado (1921).

[14] Vaudeville (Original title Variety, 1925) directed by Ewald André Dupont, starring Emil Jannings. Dupont would helm a loose remake of the film, this time with sound, as Salto Mortale in 1931.

[15] La Roue (1923) directed by Abel Gance, a silent film which employed what for the time were revolutionary lighting techniques as well as rapid cuts and scene changes.

[16] The White Sheik (Lo Sceicco Bianco) is a 1952 film by Federico Fellini starring Alberto Sordi and Giulietta Masina.

[17] Tartuffe (1926) directed by Robert Murnau from Molière’s play, starring Emil Jannings.

[18] Deleuze takes up this notion of the being-with of the camera in relation to Mitry’s semi-subjective image in Cinema 1: The Movement-Image: “In response to these developments, Mitry put forward the notion of the generalised semi-subjective image, in order to designate this ‘being-with’ of the camera: it no longer mingles with the character, nor is it outside: it is with him. It is a kind of truly cinematographic Mitsein – or what Dos Passos aptly called ‘the eye of the camera’, the anonymous viewpoint of someone unidentified amongst the characters.” p.72.

[19] See in particular the chapters “Comments on Free Indirect Discourse” and “The Cinema of Poetry” in Pier Paolo Pasolini, Heretical Empiricism, trans. Ben Lawton and Louise K. Barnett, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988.

[20] Red Desert (Original title Deserto Rosso, 1964) directed by Michelangelo Antonioni, starring Monica Vitti and Richard Harris.

[21] Before the Revolution (original title Prima della Rivoluzione, 1964) directed by Bernardo Bertolucci.

[22] “Cahiers Renaud Barrault” was a review founded in 1954 under the direction of Simone Benmussa to accompany and document the productions of the Renaud-Barrault theatre company. Created as a collective, the review attracted numerous writers including Nathalie Sarraute and Marguerite Duras. The Rohmer text to which Deleuze refers is published in No. 96, 1977 and was republished in Eric Rohmer: Le gout de la beauté, Paris. Ed. Cahiers du cinema, 1984 (Eng. The Taste for Beauty, trans. Carol Volk, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989).

[23] Six Moral Tales (Six contes moraux) was the collective name given to a cycle of films Rohmer made between 1962 and 1972 beginning with the shorts, The Bakery Girl of Monceau (1962) and Suzanne’s Career (1963) followed La Collectioneuse (1966), My Night at Maud’s (1968), Claire’s Knee (1971) and Love in the Afternoon (1972). As Rohmer Explains, these are “moral” tales in the sense that they contain very little action and are constructed instead through discussions, dialogues, discourses and monologues.

 

Notes

For archival purposes, the augmented transcription and new translation were completed in August 2020. Additional updates to the translation and a time stamped version of the transcription were completed in January 2021, with additional updates in January 2024. [NB: The transcript time stamp is in synch with the WedDeleuze recording link provided here.]

Lectures in this Seminar

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Reading Date: November 10, 1981
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Reading Date: November 17, 1981
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Reading Date: November 24, 1981
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Reading Date: December 1, 1981
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Reading Date: January 5, 1982
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Reading Date: January 12, 1982
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Reading Date: January 19, 1982
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Reading Date: January 26, 1982
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Reading Date: February 2, 1982
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Reading Date: February 23, 1982
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Reading Date: March 2, 1982
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Reading Date: March 9, 1982
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Reading Date: March 16, 1982
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Reading Date: March 23, 1982
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Reading Date: April 20, 1982
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Reading Date: April 27, 1982
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Reading Date: May 4, 1982
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Reading Date: May 11, 1982
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Reading Date: May 18, 1982
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Reading Date: May 25, 1982
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Reading Date: June 1, 1982
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