January 25, 1983

Okay, the American dream is just a dream. But that’s how it’s powerful. What would it risk in the days of [John] Ford? Hence Ford’s formulations: “I believe in the American dream.” But “I believe in the American dream” does not mean at all I believe that the dream is a reality; it means exactly the opposite. I believe in the effectiveness of the American dream as a dream, that is, that we are still a community capable of deluding ourselves, and that there is something good thing in this nation.

Seminar Introduction

In the second year of Deleuze’s consideration of cinema and philosophy, he commences the year by explaining that whereas he usually changes topics from one year to the next, he feels compelled to continue with the current topic and, in fact, to undertake a process of “philosophy in the manner of cows, rumination… I want entirely and truly to repeat myself, to start over by repeating myself.” Hence, the 82-83 Seminar consists in once again taking up Bergson’s theses on perception, but now with greater emphasis on the aspects of classification of images and signs drawn from C.S. Peirce. This allows Deleuze to continue the shift from considering the movement-image, that dominated early 20th century cinema, toward a greater understanding of the post-World War II emphasis on the time-image.

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

Cecil B. DeMille’s “Samson and Delilah”

Deleuze continues with the classification table, and after a brief review, he indicates the need for a separate entry for the action-image, that is, dividing it into two different aspects, devoting the entire session to deriving the sign of genesis (the impression, or empreinte) for the large (1st) action-image. He thus reviews the conception of history revealed in American pre-World War II cinema (e.g., D.W. Griffith, John Ford, Howard Hawks) as well as Sergei Eisenstein. Deleuze develops at length two of three aspects of his conception of history, drawing from Nietzsche’s Untimely Meditations, the monumental conception, antique conception, and ethical conception. Providing cinematic exemplars for the first two (e.g., Griffith’s “Intolerance”, DeMille’s “Samson and Delilah”, Eisenstein’s understanding of Griffith’s use of montage), Deleuze then considers other historical conceptions, considering how the Soviet model of dialectical montage, was reflected by the American-influenced Eisenstein. The American historical conception concerns the “American dream” in pre-World War II cinema and its collapse post-World War II. With the impression (empreinte) filling another square of table, Deleuze proposes to complete it at the next session.

 

Gilles Deleuze

Seminar on Cinema: Classification of Signs and Time, 1982-1983

Lecture 9, 25 January 1983 (Cinema Course 30)

Transcription: La voix de Deleuze,  Eugène Bitende Ntotila (Part 1) and Guy-Parfait Assassa; revised by Fabienne Kabou (Part 2); additional revisions to the transcription and time stamp, Charles J. Stivale

Translation: Charles J. Stivale

 

Part 1

… I’m reminding you for the second time that the time has come for those who want the university credit to turn in to me the corresponding form and that you should take them to the main office, right? Because afterwards, it will be too late. There we are, the first thing. Anyway, you have two or three weeks, ok? Don’t forget.

A second thing: there is, not a vacation, but a break, a break that I sincerely want, — I can’t take it anymore, and it’s this blackboard that’s killing me, you know — and the break between the two semesters is from the 5th to the 21st, from 5 February to the 21st, which is for us, I don’t know what. Does anyone have a small calendar? [Various answers] The 5th is a… So, we have today, and one more session. That’s good; that would allow me to finish our first part, maybe, unless something happens… And the 21st is a…?

A student: Monday.

Deleuze: So, we would start again the 22. So, there is still the next time, for those who want, and then the 22, right? Here. It’s quite clear. There we are.

Finally, I have some very good news for you. This has been the subject of my week: I have one more slot [for the graph]. [Laughter] Luckily it doesn’t, it doesn’t force us to go back, to go backwards. But I thought this would really please you. [Laughter] Yeah. So, you understand, I have a great interest in this because I am experiencing this graph of images and signs as my legacy. So, the more I, the more I lengthen it, the more my life is secure, [Laughter] which is not bad; as a result, I have to add some slots at all costs without stop, for personal reasons, right?

But after all, I have one more slot because I made a mistake. It’s not difficult to understand; everything works fine up to that point. Everything works fine up to that point. You remember the perception-image zero, with its three signs: dicisign, reume, engramme. Why does this take up only one slot? We saw it. Normally it should not occupy any of them, for two reasons: since it is degree zero, and so it passes from the movement-image to what prepares the different types of movement-images, and on the other hand, that extends under all the other columns. So, if we isolate it there, [Deleuze indicates the graph on the board] this is a relatively abstract isolation. For the affection-image with its three signs: icon of contour, icon of feature, qualisign of disconnection or [qualisign of] emptiness, these four signs, even there, the affection-image is Firstness which is “one by oneself”. So, it’s normal that it only has one slot. The impulse-image, as we saw the last time, the two types of fetishes, the fetish of good or the fetish of evil, and the symptom; this is an intermediary, it’s the passage from affection to action. It’s normal that here too, there is only one slot.

The action-image, which is two, which is two by nature, and at all its levels, it is two by nature. We saw that it was always two. In all senses, in all directions, in all ways of dividing it up, they were always dualisms or rather dyads, duels. Henceforth, it is very normal that there are two types of action-image. So, I’m going to need two slots. And last year, I hadn’t seen that because I had put everything in one slot. Very annoying, that. So here, I can say that this retreats a bit, because I would say, here, this is the action-image second version [Deleuze speaks while writing on the board]. That was the large action-image 1; here, this is the large action-image 2, and both are Secondness. So, here I need another slot. And then finally, this gives me … this gives us a shift. And here I will have: the mental image. But the mental image is Thirdness. If everything ought to connect well, then we should find three mental image columns. So, is this ok? That’s a lot more columns. [Laughter] That’s good.

So, for now, I have my three signs of the perception-image: dicisign, reume, engramme; my four signs of the affection-image, icon and qualisign; my three signs of the impulse-image: fetishes-symptoms; and we were in the action-image last time, and we made some developments possible, one of the additional developments because it corresponded to some things that I had not done last year, that I hadn’t thought about. And the last time, we had just established fully the two signs of composition of the action-image in its first form, of the large action-image 1, and these two large signs, I reminded you, were the synsign and the binomial.

And you see, after all, this is what we tried to call last year the “organic representation”, the “great organic representation”.[1] The great organic representation is presented like this: [Deleuze writes on the board] an encompasser [englobant], an encompasser which will be the synsign since the encompasser “actualizes”, it’s the milieu insofar as it actualizes several different potencies [puissances], for example, a milieu which actualizes both the earth and the wind, and a particular social group, and another particular social group and particular animals, etc. Therefore, the milieu insofar as it actualizes several potencies, we saw here for several reasons, we saw it previously, it curves around a center of which it is indeed the encompasser, with all the potencies which actualize it, and in another way, it tends towards what? Well, this encompasser, first sign of the action-image, defines a situation in relation to a center, that is, in relation to a character located in the center or in a region close to the center even if it’s on one side, whatever. It curves around an animated center, occupied by a character, a character which, in its own way, experiences the encompasser, traverses the encompasser, and reacts to the encompasser. So, in the duel, in the Secondness of this action-image, which is two by itself, I have the encompasser which embodies potencies, and on the other hand, I have the character who acts, and who acts in a particular way, he acts in response to a situation coming from the encompasser to modify this situation, to modify the milieu.

Hence, I was saying this is the structure we were discussing last year in the S-A-S’ form. S: first state of the milieu which acts on the character; A: the character’s action; S’: a changed situation, new situation. [Pause] In A, what is there? Since in S, there is the sign that we have qualified and called synsign, in fact, since the synsign is once again the situation or the milieu insofar as they actualize a plurality of potencies. And in A, what is this? I said in A, it’s another sign, it’s the binomial because in the action-image, the action is fundamentally conceived as a duel, either a duel with the milieu, or a duel with another character, and it’s a duel with the milieu or with another character and generally both at the same time. The duel with the milieu passes through the intermediary of a duel with the other character. So, it is through the duel that the character will act on the situation and that a modified situation will emerge from this.

And so, I was looking for what the sign was of any duel since the duels are quite varied – once again, the duel with the milieu, the duel with the woman who always finds herself in, in the role of the action-image, the duel between man and woman, the duel with the enemy, the duel with the group enemy, the duel with the personal enemy — there are many duels. So, we needed a word to specify what was a sign of any duel whatsoever, which is… [binomial][2] [Interruption of the recording] [11: 51]

… asking of philosophy what we’re doing here. But it turns out that of all our reference points, it seems to me the simplest, and the most obvious, is in cinema, but you can do it in the literature. Think, for example, of what we did last time on the impulse-image. We chose some cinema examples, for example, [Joseph] Losey, the last time. Well, it wasn’t hard to find examples from literature. We could also have chosen examples from painting, and all that, but in the end, we’d never get done.

If we maintain cinema as reference point, in this story of S-A-S’, there is already something that interests me, because I can say S-A-S’, or synsign-binomial in complicated terms, this is a certain conception of the action-image. But it technically implies some very specific things. I mean, this goes together, a conception of the image, the technical means of composing the image, all that goes together. And what I mean here is that if one reflects upon one of the most important points in the history of cinema, namely, the different types and the different ways in which montage was conceived, well, there’s an American montage, to the extent that, quite often, credit is given to the Americans, and to [D.W.] Griffith, not strictly for inventing montage — you can always find something previously- – but to have brought montage along and to have been the first great cinema author to have brought montage to a certain state of reflected perfection, of deliberated perfection [perfection pensée].[3]

Well then, how does, if I try to state this, how does American montage differ from what you might call Soviet montage? Since the Soviets very quickly will come up with an idea about montage such that montage for them is really the essence of cinema, or French montage, which will quickly acquire a very powerful figure with [Abel] Gance, well, we can feel … Or German montage which will kick in with Expressionism. We indeed feel that there is, there is something there. How would you define American montage without getting into some very, very complicated things?

Griffith earns praise for having really, not systematized, it’s not…, to have used, to have constructed into the stage of cinematographic principle what we could call… Here, the vocabularies vary. So, I am using a precise vocabulary; as I express myself on this, this will be or won’t be justified for you. He earns our praise for having imposed or having known how to construct a so-called “alternate” montage.[4] But the alternate montage, at the extreme, I almost end up by defining a montage that we will call American montage, even if others use it. And if others use it, it will be in another context.

How could I define alternate editing? Is it possible to define it precisely at this level we’ve reached? Yes, it seems to me we can. If you understand what a synsign is – once again, it’s the milieu, the milieu insofar as it actualizes various potencies — these various potencies are of two great kinds. They can be potencies of nature and they can be potencies of man. They can be natural potencies or social potencies. Furthermore, it’s always both, at the same time. And the synsign, the encompasser already includes a whole interweaving of natural potencies and social potencies, for example, the wind, the wind on the plain, on the bare plain, on the desert plain, and the hardness of the group that inhabits this milieu, the violence of the group that inhabits this milieu. We clearly see that a potency as potency of nature and a potency as the collective potency of man are constantly intertwined.

I would say that, already in this sense, the encompasser or synsign is deeply marked with “caesuras”. There are caesuras.[5] From then on, there is an object of montage since it is in a succession of images which have relations, and which must have rhythmic relations with each other. that you are going to show a particular aspect of the milieu, that is, the milieu under a particular potency that it actualizes. And for example, I was saying, in the large images of organic representation, this type of image, at the point we’ve reached, already you have very important caesuras that mark the separation of milieus, earth and sky, earth and sky in [John] Ford’s images in which the sky fills two thirds or three quarters [of the screen]. Very important, this is a case of caesuras, this time of space caesuras, so with two potencies, potency of the earth and potency of the sky.

But when Ford feels the need, and you see that particular image, a particular image already calls into question a montage, that goes without saying, and Eisenstein will say this beautifully later. You can’t think an image in itself already independently of montage because it is no coincidence that in a particular location, Ford needs an image, according to him; in his creation, he needs an image in which the sky is really going to devour the earth. And which sky? I mean, a sky with clouds, and which clouds? All of that, fine. I would say, there is a caesura within the image between two natural potencies, but from one frame to another, another frame on the other hand, will reduce the sky to a minimum. There will be a caesura this time not within the image, but a caesura from one image to another.

And then there will be, if I think at the group level, I can say at the group level, of potencies of the group in which I have an image of a rich interior, of a rich house, I am among the rich people. And then not immediately after, sometimes immediately after, I’m in a poor house of a poor man. You recognize that quite often, the elements that we see all the time in Griffith. I would say that here too, I have a caesura that may be inside the image. If you assume, which is rare, that the poor house is nearby and filmed in the same image as the palace of the rich, or alternatively from frame to frame, so you have caesuras between independent images. The rhythmic organization of these “caesuraed” images will define an “alternate” montage. You see why we will call “alternate” the passage or the rule according to which we pass from one image to another. For me, alternating montage is exactly — I say this for me because the definitions vary a lot — but I would say this is exactly the rhythmic rule by which one passes from an image embodying a particular potency to an image embodying another potency. I can say these images are “parallel”. An image of the rich house, an image of the house… — I, sorry, I’m stammering — an image of the rich house and an image of the poor house. In this sense, we will speak of an “alternate parallel” montage. I specify this because sometimes one gives to “parallel montage” a, a completely different sense, but anyway, that’s why I’m saying, myself, I am dealing with the one that I’m proposing to you. There we are.

And on the other hand, if I am not interested as well in the organization of the encompasser or the milieu, but if I am interested in the passage from situation to action, from the milieu to the duel, in order to pass from the milieu to the duel, you need a lot of intermediaries. [Deleuze writes on the board] I symbolize them in this way; several lines are needed, each in its own way, starting from a particular place or a particular aspect of the milieu, tending towards the center A, towards the character. And I could say that on these lines, there are also caesuras, caesuras of a slightly different kind. I can’t say that one kind is temporal, the others spatial. They are all spatio-temporal. But this not quite the same type of caesura.

Why are there these caesuras? It’s because the character, the main heroic character whose duel is going to react onto the situation, does not occur by himself, since by virtue of the action-image — it is not that he is weak; on the contrary, he is very strong; by definition, the hero is strong, right? — but that does not change anything. He is potentially strong. You remember that the action-image problem is a problem of actualization. In fact, there is an action-image only when the qualities and potencies are grasped in their process of actualization. So, the hero is potentially strong. What does “strong” mean? It means equal to the situation. I am a hero when I am equal to the situation, of course, to the grandiose situation.

Why am I introducing grandiose, and how do I define grandiose? By the encompasser. The action is grandiose when it has to restore or transform the encompasser. When it no longer has a bearing on the encompasser, it is not heroism. But an action which bears on the encompasser is by nature a grandiose action, a heroic action. The hero is potentially capable of it; he is not inferior. This would be a different type of image, the inferior hero, that is, here we would have other signs, but anyway, this way works fine. It’s not, it’s not that he’s inferior, the hero. He is potentially equal to the situation. But, in order to actualize his own greatness, just as the milieu had to actualize particular potencies and qualities, the hero has to actualize potencies and qualities which will enable him to transform the milieu. So, the hero is also caught up in a process of actualization. It is even through this that he belongs to the action-image.

And this actualization process, well, it’s caesuraed; it has moments, it has spatio-temporal moments. I mean, it has personal caesuras, it has collective caesuras, it has plenty of other caesuras. Collective caesuras: what does the hero need? And who doesn’t have such need? The hero needs a people. When I say, “who doesn’t have such need?”, that’s because I think of Paul Klee’s very beautiful and famous phrases, in his role as painter, who says, “what are we missing? We lack a people”.[6] Fine, he lacks a people, he is not the only one. Above all, that’s what is missing, the people; this is almost its definition, really. But that’s, that’s … yeah, that’s why psychoanalysis is wrong, but it believes that it is something other than the people that is missing. But there was always only one thing missing, and that was the people, right? Sometimes it is there; well, I don’t know, sometimes we say it’s there. Fine. A people is missing, but a people is not missing, maybe, after all, maybe, well, maybe it’s not missing, fine. A people is necessary.

But we don’t just need a people; a team is necessary, it’s not the same thing. A team is necessary. The Western gets its best moments from this, right? There’s the people, that is, the basic collectivity which sometimes is a completely stupid collectivity, but here we cannot go into details; it does not matter. There is the basic collectivity, and then there is the makeshift group [groupe de rencontre], the accidental group which is generally made up of a sheriff, a crippled old man, and an alcoholic, [Laughter] but an alcoholic on the way to recovery. You’ve discovered this [Howard] Hawks trio. This is the occasional group, but the team is necessary.[7]

And as a Soviet filmmaker, Eisenstein says, it’s not as clear as all that; it’s not that clear. He did everything to identify with Soviet cinema, but he remained marked with an indelible stain in the eyes, in Stalin’s eyes, but perhaps also in the eyes of another kind, namely his very deep bond with American cinema. I mean, in eyes purer than Stalin’s, when [Dziga] Vertov considered Eisenstein a bourgeois author, it’s very interesting to try to discover why. This is a crazy thing, a long story, it seems to me.

But anyway, fine, I’m saying, you can see how Eisenstein also fits in there. In any case, he seems to fit in there. Consider, consider a masterpiece like “Ivan the Terrible” [1944]. It is entirely, it is entirely this structure that I am trying to discuss concerning the action-image, synsign, icon. In “Ivan the Terrible”, there is Ivan, a magnificent prodigious character. You can’t say he’s inferior to the action. He is potentially equal to the action. What does the action consist of? It’s the same as with us, Louis XIV, really, it’s, this is the large action. It is the act of making Russia a state. And a state does not happen with just nothing. So, it’s a matter of creating a state, that is, in the case of “Ivan the Terrible”, breaking the boyars. So, there we see that Eisenstein is Soviet, that the boyars are one class, an idea that never enters the mind of an American. But anyway, that’s a detail for now. It’s a detail. It’s about breaking the boyars. But I can say then that the synsign here is developed with all its caesuras, the boyars, the people, the parallel between the boyars and the people, etc.

There are the other caesuras, namely, Ivan will go through two moments of doubt, two moments of terrible doubt on the mode: am I really capable of this heroic action, of breaking the world of the boyars, of breaking down the boyar community to create a Russian state? He has two moments of doubt which are very, very beautiful, which are, which form some sublime images there. A first moment of doubt, when he walks alongside the coffin of the Empress, of his wife who has just been poisoned by the great boyar chief, and where he has a moment of doubt, asking: I am I really right? And then a second moment of doubt when he recalls his old friend who has become a monk, and the monk behaves in an odious manner, saying: but, you have no right to touch the boyars, and so, we then see a great Ivan the terrible who walks forth trying to grab a piece of the monk’s long robe, a very, very beautiful scene too, and going through a moment of doubt.

As a result, Soviet critics at the time coldly said: But this is not our great Ivan the Terrible, that is, our great Stalin. [Laughter] Eisenstein has tricked us, and this is a kind of Hamlet, Hamlet being known for the moments of doubt he goes through. And if this is entirely true, it seems to me, despite what sometimes been said, that Hamlet goes through moment of doubt, then why is this? It’s because Hamlet lives the question that seems to me the question of the hero, the question of the hero when he reflects at night alongside the coffin of the loved one since he indeed must be the hero alone. Alongside the loved one’s coffin, the hero asks himself, or near the fiancée, near poor Ophelia, the hero asks himself: am I capable of this action? And there, Ivan like Hamlet asks himself: am I capable of this action? And something is required that, which renews his certitude that he is going to be capable of this action, and that proceeds through caesuras, these lines that go from the situation to the action that must be caesuraed, which must proceed through moments.

And that’s not all. Even when you’re Ivan the Terrible, you have to find groups. So, he confronts the boyars. This is not, they are not nothing, the boyars. They’re powerful, you know, the boyars. Well then, what is he going to rely on? He’s not going to liquidate them all his own. So, there is obviously an answer, and here too Soviet criticism will not be happy with Eisenstein. This is the immediate answer: against the boyars, one gains support from the people. Well yes, one is supported by the people. But there are many ways to be supported by the people. Does Eisenstein — because he’s really a historian here, I don’t know – does he know how to make a Stalin-style film? That is, in which Ivan would have discovered the people, and would have identified with the people and that the people, and Ivan, they would have been only the same thing, one, a one and same potency, as was said to be that of the Soviet people and Stalin.

So, all the same, Eisenstein, no, it’s, since he had a good enough sense of history, it’s not that he didn’t want to please Stalin. He did so in other ways, but in this, there was something he couldn’t do: it was to present Ivan the Terrible in his era as, as having even that conception. As a result, Ivan the Terrible is terrible. He treats the people like a dog, like a dog. And he tells them exactly, and he tells the representative of the people who back him up, he says, but hey, no familiarity, right? No, but there are some very, very beautiful scenes where he says, no, but that’s enough, ok? When the people’s men, the people’s representatives start criticizing the boyars, Ivan the Terrible wants the people’s men to cut off the boyars’ heads; he is even very, very… here, he even finds quite extraordinary arrangements to cut off their heads, they work perfectly. But when the people’s men start criticizing the boyars: stop there, he says, go no further, you are forgetting, you are forgetting who you are: you are not on my side — and there is a little young man of the people who is madly in love with Ivan, that is, who is admiring, who obviously gave his life to Ivan and Ivan is a god for him, and Ivan puts his hand on his head, a very beautiful scene obviously — he puts his hand on his head and says: no, you know that you are only my instrument — the young man is greatly taken aback [Laughter] — don’t take yourself, don’t take yourself for one of my friends. For me, my true race is the boyars. And that doesn’t keep me from chopping off their heads, whatever you want, etc.

But, in other words, the people are just a makeshift group. It has the same value as Hawks’s alcoholic, it’s the same as a makeshift group. The fundamental group, that remains, that remains for Ivan the Terrible the group of boyars. Fine, this is all very, very… You understand, this constitutes a very important kind of dramatic progression of the historical film. But what I mean is that in these lines then, the line of the people, the line of the boyars, etc. which will tend towards the fundamental action, towards the duel, there is also an alternate montage. For example, I shift from a line which shows the boyars’ action against Ivan to a line which shows the people’s action to help Ivan. [Deleuze indicates the diagram on the board] But this is a different figure than the previous one. And why? Because this time, see — that’s why my diagram explains it — it’s a montage this time in which the lines seem to converge. They are no longer parallel. What is going to converge? What will converge is the boyar’s attempt, for example, to poison Ivan’s wife, and the surveillance by the people’s man, the muzhik’s surveillance, trying to protect Ivan’s wife.[8]

And there, you are going to have a montage which is still an alternate montage, but which is no longer a parallel montage, which is what we will call a “convergent” montage or what one could call a convergent montage or, if you prefer, “concurrent”. This is well known, and that’s even why, in this regard, fine, that the other aspect was already entirely in Griffith’s work. Griffith is famous for certain concurrent montages, most notably in “Birth of a Nation” [1915], where you no longer alternate between two parallel segments, but between two concurrent lines of action. For example, [Deleuze writes on the board] there is a fight in a house, and from a completely different direction, the horsemen come to help the besieged. And you alternate between the image of the house’s defense and the image of the riders arriving to help, these images succeeding in speeding up more and more in the form of an accelerated montage. But you see that there, this is typically an example – not even typically, it is not typically — but this is a montage, this is an example of an alternate montage, but no longer parallel, concurrent, convergent. There is convergence towards the same point that I can call point A, which is the point of the duel, the point of the binomial or the duel. Good. In “M” by [Fritz] Lang [1931], there you have a much more exemplary convergent montage. If you call A, M himself, the criminal, you have two concurrent lines of action presented as concurrent which converge towards the capture of M: it is the line of the underworld and the line of the police, and in Lang’s montage, there is constantly a passage from one line to another, and they will converge upon M’s capture.

So, you see that I can say: action-image implies a real montage, and undoubtedly I could have done it there, I’m doing it now, but it goes without saying that affection-image involves montage as well. Here I’ll make a quick digression: think about what it might be, what I would say is an affective montage. There is only one famous case in a film of total affective montage, it is obviously the “[Passion of] Joan of Arc” [1928] by [Carl Theodor] Dreyer. There is indeed montage since this is not nothing, to present the close-ups of figures, once it’s said that the close-ups are cut where faces are always cut and well placed at a particular location on the screen, etc. The question of montage will be what rhythm is the set of images going to have. I would say that there is not only a montage, but there is an affective framing in Dreyer. Good. We could have found, for the impulse-image, there are also some very special kinds of montage. Fine, here we are developing this example further. This is so that you feel that we could pursue some developments each time and that you see what I mean.

This is not, we’re going to find this problem, so I’m just saying for the moment, in the action-image because the image always refers to a plurality of images. So, it refers to problem of montage. You cannot think of any of these images as isolated, or even as able to be isolated.

Georges Comtesse: Concerning “Ivan the Terrible”, you can’t say that the point of convergence, as the film progresses, it seems that at the start of the duel with the boyars, can’t we say that as it progresses, that the point of convergence becomes more and more precise in “Ivan the Terrible” to the extent that in the end, he is someone who is neither Hamlet nor Oedipus since what he fundamentally wants to break, his point of convergence, what he really wants to break at the end, in the scene of the cathedral, for example, is the desire of the mother who fetishizes, who totemizes, who enfeebles her child who has been kept like a stuck fly and who wants to use the child, her child, as the instrument of her political ambition? Perhaps that is the point of convergence, [Deleuze: Yes! Yes!] Eisenstein’s fantastic rupture, and that doesn’t quite connect to the people.

Deleuze: Yes, um, yes. In fact, you are right. What you are saying would explain why, according to Eisenstein, the people have perhaps, can only have a role as instrument and why the duel, in fact, what you are saying, it seems to me that comes down to saying: be careful, it would be necessary to determine what is Ivan the Terrible’s duel, with whom, and what is the real binomial of Ivan the Terrible. You are even going so far as to suggest that it is something other than the duel with the boyars after all. Yes, I think you’re right! Yeah, yeah, it’s possible, absolutely, yes. [Pause]

So, the last time I was saying, you understand, let’s continue to develop this a bit. I was saying, don’t laugh. You have to, you have to see, the conception of Hollywood history has been discussed in too rapid a fashion. The great Hollywood historical film, I find this very interesting when you ponder what conception of history they have. And you will see why I am pursuing this long development since it is completely linked. For me, in the same way that one asks, once again, it is very legitimate to ask, to undertake a history of history, that is, to ask, well come on, what conception of history was there for [Jules] Michelet? Especially since Michelet gives us a lot of information about that. What conception of history is there among Marxists? They also give us a lot of guidance. There are some who give us less information about their conception of history, but they do so. And it seems to me, it is not enough to say, oh yeah, this is bourgeois history or not bourgeois history. This is something else, it’s not in itself unfair to say bourgeois or not bourgeois, but you have to go further, really. So, I tell myself, I’m very struck that in Hollywood, there was, in Hollywood’s heyday, they had one of those very odd conceptions of history. And you’re going to see once again how this connects directly into that.[9]

And I was saying okay, fine, let’s try to see, since … let’s try to use, and I asked you to read two texts, one of which I’m not going to talk about — I’ve already gotten too far behind, the text by Hegel — and then, I would like to talk about Nietzsche’s text. And so, it’s this text in the Untimely Meditations which are themselves divided into four meditations, and I believe it is the second one, regardless, I am talking about the meditation entitled “On the uses and disadvantages of history for life”.[10] And, Nietzsche’s idea, in himself, he has an idea that interests us a lot, which is why I’m saying this. And the general thesis and why he starts talking about history is because he doesn’t like history. He doesn’t like history, not at all that he likes the eternal. He is a man, he is a thinker who loves neither the eternal nor history, nor the temporal nor the eternal, but what he loves is something else and which he himself calls the “untimely”, because he thinks that great things, that great and beautiful things are never eternal, temporal or historical, but that great things are always untimely, and that life, or what he calls life, is the process of the untimely. So, in return for which he says that history is useful, but that history is useful only if, far from setting itself up as a science, it submits to the demands of life and to what life expects from it. And based on that, he will write, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful texts in history. And he does not even cite, he does not cite a particular historian, and I believe that those that he does cite are very precise historians of his time and of his German milieu, that this refers rather to the German history of the 19th century.

But if I say this, it’s to the extent that I am going to develop and indicate here roughly Nietzsche’s thesis and what he tells us. I’m asking you to keep in mind, it’s not a question of me using — how shall I put it? — of distorting a text. But by really respecting Nietzsche’s text, to what an extent it is a great text, he goes beyond the purpose for which he wrote it, and to what an extent he gives us a very acute vision of what the Americans perhaps were looking for. And there would be enough to make historical connections; maybe it’s not all by accident. Because if there were people to develop a kind of bastard Nietzscheanism, of which it hardly matters to know if it was well understood or poorly understood Nietzscheanism, but to experience a kind of Nietzscheanism, even after having read Nietzsche, but not much, that goes through American or English literature. In this regard, I see two great names of the construction of a very curious neo-Nietzscheanism, they are [D.H.] Lawrence and [Jack] London. And London interests me precisely for reasons that we will see.

So, what is Nietzsche telling us? Accept it as a story; he says: well yes, there are three conceptions. We are translating, we are changing it a little bit, we are saying that it is not three conceptions; in fact, it’s three aspects of the same conception. This is not a change; he would surely like to say this as well. These are three aspects of the same conception. And he says: first there is monumental history, or the monumental conception of history. What does this mean? I would already like to take it literally. And he adds for us, and he says: the monumental conception of history, he tells us first in a rather mysterious way, that is a little mysterious to us, it’s a conception of “active” men, active. We are fully within the action-image. These are men who, from a life point of view, are the highly active ones who will need a monumental conception of history. Good. So, let’s take it… I’ll point out when I come back to Nietzsche’s literal text. Here I am talking about the word: the monumental conception of history.

Obviously, this is indeed, this is Hollywood. This is indeed Hollywood when you think about what they did. I’m taking two examples: the city of Babylon in “Intolerance” [1916], and what for me is one of the peaks of cinema: the temple, the temple of the Philistines in “Samson and Delilah” [1949] by Cecil B. DeMille, the temple, the temple of the Philistines which is, at the same time, it’s the impression it gives us of the monumental and of wild laughter; this was, this was really the time for them to have fun, right? It’s a kind of joke. Except here, as Nietzsche would say, of course, the temple of the Philistines makes us laugh. But it’s an Olympian laughter. Cecil B. DeMille knew about this, and one might think he is being ridiculed, but not at all. But some people believe they are laughing at him and the fake aspect of the construction. Not at all. Instead, through the monumental image, what is sparked, what is born in us, is a laughter that is the laughter of the gods. It is the laughter of the gods who inhabit the temple, it is laughter, it is Olympian laughter. Fine. Necessarily so, necessarily. But when you grasp that, you immediately see what it means… It’s the very image; it is not just what is photographed reproduced by the image. It is the very image that can be said to be monumental. It is a monumental image.

Fine, the monumental image can be natural or the work of men; here too, this is potency. See, and I would almost say the monumental image is indeed obviously, it’s the milieu, it’s the great synsign, the monumental image. It’s the encompasser, the temple is the encompasser. It is the milieu insofar as it actualizes potencies that are inseparably those of man and those of nature. Light, but also piety, the harshness of the milieu, but also decadence. Here I am speaking for Babylon. This is all great. These are images that, well … These are monumental images. Good. [Pause]

So, you indeed understand that this is why, this is why there is a problem with cinema-literature. When people in Hollywood had gotten involved in this kind of thing, what interested them, I guess, was really to create monumental images. They didn’t need the screenwriters. They needed technicians much more, that is, scholars. Because they were going very far at that time; they paid, they paid dearly. What I believe, what must have been done there again for this film and which comes a bit late, because after all, there are formulas there through which cinema no longer moves; the cinema went there, but it’s all been done, there you are. But for “The War of Fire” [1981], well, what did they do? It’s the old method, the great Hollywood method, at least. It’s not a screenplay they need, it’s not a screenwriter they need, it’s not even a dialogue writer. Faulkner was in pain, and I’ll explain; it’s normal that the great writers who were employed by Hollywood were treated worse than dogs, really. But it was … they were told: go out and get a drink, leave us alone. You’ll get your salary, but above all, leave us alone. Obviously, they were going to ask Faulkner, [Deleuze chuckles] they were going to ask Faulkner for a dialogue about the Pharaohs. [Laughter] So Faulkner said okay, but me, you know right… He had drunk quite a bit, first, he arrived, he said: my problem is how would a servant address the Pharaoh? What is he telling him? Did he talk to Pharaoh? So, Faulkner was told, go off and drink in your corner; leave us alone, of course. So, for Fitzgerald, you understand, this was all suicide, it was suicide because he had no need of this.

This is recounted anecdotally, but it is important in the cinema-literature relationship. It is obvious that, on the other hand, they badly needed great architects, archaeologists. They needed archaeologists to do the maximum properly. They needed, they needed archeology because archeology is the monumental image, and they weren’t going to go into … Although they might have laughed, Cecil B DeMille made the most sublime, the most sublime and the most grotesque temple there is at the same time. If you’ve got the image of the temple of the Philistines in mind, that Samson is going to cause to collapse, it’s, it’s such a beautiful image and so comical at the same time. The god, the god of the Philistines who is the caricature, I suppose, of B. DeMille himself, or of one of his buddies, who is a kind of, of a grotesque god, it’s one that’s a beauty at the same time. There we are.

But that’s not all for the monumental image. Nietzsche tells us, the monumental image is ultimately less the image of the milieu. That doesn’t interest Nietzsche much, this archaeological aspect. I’m still say, it’s fully within a monumental conception of history, this archaeological theme, once again, which can be natural. The Hebrews and the desert and the famous image of, again, by Cecil B. DeMille of the opening sea, this is literally a monumental success. Here, I am not saying monumental as metaphor. It is literally a monumental success. I mean the monumental can be natural. The opening of the sea to let the Hebrews pass is typically a monumental image. Fine.

So, what interests Nietzsche is not that. It is that he says: well, here it is, you understand, in a monumental conception of history, what we remember then as well as in architecture, it’s the grandiose. And that’s why the man of action needs a monumental conception. This is the grandiose, this is the sublime, [Pause] as much the sublime of nature as the sublime of man. This is really the greatness of milieus and actions; [Pause] as a result, what does the monumental conception do? It tends to discern … [Interruption of the recording] [58: 32]

… So, Nietzsche winks and says, that doesn’t fool me. That doesn’t fool me. This is all … This whole thing is the tale of the Oedipus complex; that doesn’t fool me. So, fine, he winks, that doesn’t fool them. So, well, are they ashamed? They might be ashamed. If there’s one thing they don’t know how to do, it’s to find something beautiful; they have to diminish everything. These are dregs, these are really the dregs. That doesn’t fool me. I’m thinking, for example, of a critic — I’m saying this so that you understand better — a critic, oh many years ago so I can quote him, as I can’t remember his name, an article on Lewis Carroll, so to show well — it’s a fairly general tone in today’s criticism “that doesn’t fool me”, and to show at the same time — and it is full of goodwill — to show that everyone is buddies, really, while it is not true that everyone is buddies. He talks about Lewis Carroll, and he says: ah yes, so to explain to people, he says, ah yes, he had odd relations with little girls, and in parentheses, no doubt he put his hand up their panties. A normal reader vomits upon hearing this. There is something sickening there. And what does this guy who dare to write that believe?

I mean, the question isn’t whether it’s true or not. The question is, how can anyone think it is interesting, or intelligent, or clever, to write such garbage? It’s “that doesn’t fool me”, you understand. “Lewis Carroll, he’s a genius, of course, but between you and me, he had his little quirks”, that makes me vomit. I shouldn’t have given this example because I really want to throw up. But, in a lot of articles, you find that sort of thing, a way of buddying up to the ones they’re talking about. So, they buddy up to Joyce, they buddy up to Proust, we buddy up, well, no but about what? Since they are obviously dead. This is odd; these are the dregs, really. So, really the dregs, there are so many dregs, you know.

Nietzsche says, obviously it is the opposite; it’s the idea that the men of monumental history are great active people who think that ultimately all the moments of humanity, whatever they are, including milieus as well, I would say, communicate. But how do they communicate? They communicate through peaks. That is, it is at the peak of their greatness that all events communicate. This is what will be called the monumental view of history according to Nietzsche. It’s very interesting because we’re not dealing with very scholarly matters. I mean, these are ways of living history. Each of us has a way of living history. For example, I ask myself, how do I live history? Well, I read Nietzsche’s text with passion, and I tell myself, ha well no, I don’t live it like that. Fortunately, I don’t live it like the dregs; no, no, I don’t live it like that. I don’t identify with what he is saying there. I find that very beautiful, and I see people who surely understand history like that. All the great moments of humanity… So, he’s not pretending to do science; you see that Nietzsche is not considering: what are the scientific conceptions of history? He seeks “vital intuitions” that guide conceptions of history. He says there we are, the men of monumental history think that all great moments communicate from on high, from the peaks.

Okay, I’m saying, why is this interesting? It’s because, henceforth, he makes connections. Here he goes further; he is going to tell us something important. Suppose there’s someone who truly believes, who lives like this: all great moments communicate through peaks, that is, the city of Babylon, it can be peak of horror. It will never be a low and suspicious interpretation, but these can be peaks of horror as well as peaks of heroism. Suppose someone is telling themselves, [Pause] the immense loss of fallen Babylon, this is a peak that speaks to me, the collapse of Babylon. And then he says, a second peak that I think about all the time is Jesus, Jesus and the Pharisees. And he says, hey, why does one bring up the other? Well obviously, it’s because Babylon was betrayed, it had its caste of traitors, fine, no doubt the priests. It had its priests who betrayed. And no doubt it was able to be betrayed because it was already a softened civilization, the great civilization of Babylon. Second peak: Jesus was betrayed as well. What a peak Jesus is, and what a betrayal, this time as well, here, by the caste of priests. Let’s suppose. Aaah! What a peak that must have been! What a peak that must have been, the persecution. Worse, the holocaust of the Protestants. [Pause] That must have been truly something, in the Saint Bartholomew massacre.[11] And then he says: and here, under my windows, what is this, this immense event which is occurring now, namely, cops and even regular people who are shooting at striking workers?

Ah, and there you are with these four peaks that start communicating from on high, four peaks of horror, which are going to be what? Which will be four images of what that guy [D.W. Griffith], inspired one day toward this, will call intolerance. Okay, and here he is going to toss this movie at us, “Intolerance”, which is a crazy movie in some ways since what is going to happen? What parallels are going to be there? In parallel there will be, in some unforgettable images — I insist: in parallel – in parallel, what will there be, in some unforgettable ways if you’ve seen the movie? And in brief parallels, not at length, in immediate parallels, there are the following two scenes: the little Babylonian girl who tries to warn the Babylonians in time that the barbarians are going to attack, and who is about a hundred yards ahead in a frantic chariot race, and this other image, of a car, of an automobile pursuing a train at full speed, since in the train, there is the governor who alone is able to sign the reprieve for a worker who otherwise will be executed.

And you have what’s called time-lapse montage which here is also comical. I think that’s great because that laughter, this is really funny, but again, it’s monumental laughter, it’s monumental laughter. You have an accelerated montage, abrupt transitions from one scene to another, of this kind of chariot trying to get ahead of the barbarian chariots, and then the situation, which is plastically the same, of the car which tries to catch up with and even get ahead of the train. Fine, and there you have … what is it? This is typically a parallel montage. This is an alternate parallel montage. [Pause] Good. That’s it.

And so, if I believe, in fact, why is this? It’s because monumental history, insofar as it rests, according to Nietzsche, on this belief: great things communicate by their peaks, this peak, the aspect through which they are lost, it is as if to infinity, it is as if to the infinity of their grandeur. In other words, this monumental conception of history, as Nietzsche says, will fundamentally nourish and favor parallels and analogies. And you see, this is necessary. As soon as you have a monumental conception of history, you launch yourself into the parallels and analogies from one civilization to another, since all civilizations communicate through their high points, either in grandeur or in horror… [Interruption of the recording] [1:09:47]

 

Part 2

… So it’s going to be a story by analogy, and Griffith’s vitality makes him introduce to cinema this kind of monumental analogical conception in which he is going — and I find that here, the commentators have it all quite wrong when they talk about the construction of “Intolerance” – in which he is going to do this amazing thing which will mark American cinema strongly since many people will try to repeat this, but without succeeding his initial masterpiece. Here, from this, from this thing, from this comparison which to us, insofar as we do not participate in a monumental conception of history, seems completely arbitrary, but, if you accept this monumental conception of the story, then it seems absolutely necessary to you, justified from start to finish, and nothing more bothers you in the film, which does not prevent you from laughing, but to laugh about what is powerful in monumental history.

So, what do these parallels, these analogies mean? There are parallels and analogies between events which communicate only at their peak, whatever civilization they are part of. As a result, if you can do universal history, it is at the level of monumental history. What is very interesting in what Nietzsche says, and that is a conception of a man of action, it is not for him a conception of a visionary or at least it is the kind of vision needed by the man of action. How beautiful this text is! He adds, as the last point of his analysis of monumental history, he adds what seems very important to me: if you consider that monumental history will make parallels, analogies, between events which are taken to their maximum of grandeur, that is, which communicate to infinity, it is precisely because monumental history retains only the effects. Moreover, if it was able to carry out its entire operation, this monumental history, “it carries out its effects in itself”. This is Nietzsche’s very expression when he says, yeah, monumental history can only act through this operation: the events that it presents to us, it gives them the status of effects taken in themselves, effects in themselves, henceforth as he says, with a little play on words, “facts which have an effect on all eras”, and on ourselves as modern people.[12] The effect in itself is what makes an effect anywhere, anytime. Monumental history, understand, is a series of very simple ideas. Monumental history has retained the event only in its grandeur. Hence, monumental history draws parallels and analogies since all events considered in their grandeur are comparable.

Third, such events are effects; their cause is not addressed. These are effects in themselves that are shown to you. These are effects in and of themselves, and monumental history is not at all interested in the connection of cause and effect. In fact, what it wants is to detach the sublime effect of the series from its causes in order to brandish the effect as it is in itself and put it in parallel with another effect, as it is in itself, also separate from its causes. If we took into account the causal series, we could no longer detach the effects. We could no longer take the effects in themselves, and we could no longer draw parallels and analogies. [Pause] So fine, let’s keep that. But I am adding, I am adding apparently on my own behalf, let’s accept this Nietzschean definition of monumental history. Okay. We have abstracted the effects from their causes, we have reached a consideration of the effects taken in themselves. And henceforth, these effects taken in themselves become the subject of parallels and analogies. See, this point, I hope this is clear.

But it is not only from one civilization to another that we will do this extraction of effects taken in themselves. It is within a same civilization, a same society. I am stating that; Nietzsche does not specify that! But we have only to continue, we have only to continue his presentation; there is no reason for it to be from one civilization to another. This is particularly evident from the point of view of universal history. But we can take a very precise local history, the history of the society at a particular period, of a homogeneous society at a particular time. We will also identify the effects in themselves; that will be a monumental conception of the period. Simply, one will just consider the effects in themselves as independent phenomena, which communicate in their greatness or their abomination through the peak.

And we will be told in this story — this is no longer Nietzsche here, but you will see what we fall back on — and we will be told: yes, there are rich people, and do not exaggerate their grandeur, and there are the poor people with their grandeur. There are the rich people with the grandeur of their splendor, there are the poor with the grandeur of their misery. Fine. This will be a monumental conception in what sense? We only retain the effects in themselves. That way, we can compare them; we can compare the rich and the poor, even if it means finding that the rich have a good heart too, even if it means finding that the poor are sometimes wicked too. We’ll create a comparison between effects in themselves.

What are these, the rich and the poor? Two independent series, two parallels, two events as events in themselves, as separate from their causes, these are effects in themselves. Effects of what? These only communicate through the peaks. Let’s say: effects of divine distribution, we cannot go further. There are rich people, there are poor people. And the man of monumental history at this level can have compassion and say: what a pity that there are poor people, and ask, and why are there poor people? And obviously, the answer being God, there are poor people. Or the answer being human nature, human nature is made in such a way that, yes, there are poor people and there are rich people. These are two effects in themselves.

And such a conception, there are poor, there are rich, Dickens had a witty expression for it, but he himself had this conception. It was what he called, “the striped pork belly,” one stripe and another stripe, two parallel lines. But the pork belly, the “pork belly” conception, is the monumental conception. Two parallel effects, right? Two parallel effects, there are the poor, there are the rich, just like before, there was decadent Babylon, and then in another civilization there was an analog or a parallel. Here, the poor and the rich have two effects in themselves which run a parallel course. So, you’ll have a parallel montage, one blow for the rich, one blow for the poor, [Pause] just like you had the great parallel montage of “Intolerance”, one blow for Babylon, one blow for the Modern America. [Pause]

This is what Eisenstein will say brilliantly, and here we then find the Marxist explanation, but when it is carried out with Eisenstein’s brilliance, when he says, Griffith’s technique depends directly on his conception of society. What, in fact, is this conception of history and of society that was called monumental? You can add, well, this is the great liberal conception, [Pause] this is the great liberal conception. [Pause] And in fact, the liberal knows how to admire; the liberal knows how to see the event in all its splendor; the liberal knows how to draw parallels, and he draws parallels between civilizations, and within a civilization, he draws parallels as well. He considers the effects taken in themselves. Well yes, this is a fact, there are rich people and there are poor people. And if I am asked why, I would say, for such is human nature that must be viewed with a liberal eye, or else I would say, God willed it thus, and it is necessary to consider God’s decree with a liberal eye. This is the American conception. Fine.

So, here Eisenstein reminds us, he insists a lot, he says, it’s no wonder Griffith is the inventor of this thing which he himself declares wonderful, a technique of alternate parallel montage, that is, the first form of Griffith’s montage we were discussing earlier. It’s not surprising: his whole conception of history and society implies this. In vulgar terms, I would say: this is a Marxist explanation, but it does not explain an ideological phenomenon by infrastructure. It is also a Marxist conception which explains a technical phenomenon by an ideological structure. It was by virtue of his conception of society and of history that Griffith introduced the technical process of alternate parallel montage. That’s a very brilliant text by Eisenstein in Film Form, in the famous chapter, “Dickens, Griffith and Us”. Fine.[13]

But that’s not all. So, understand? Understand? A collection of effects in themselves, here are you following this? — Is this ok? Is this ok? So, are we going to take a break? — Collection of effects in themselves, that’s quite lovely but then the causes haven’t been dealt with. Causes, like that, causes, we said, well, it’s God, it’s human nature, it’s not serious. The causes, what are we going to do with them? Ah yes, we have a place for causes, we have a place for causes. We’re going to say this: [Pause] yeah, imagine saying this, yeah. [Deleuze goes to the board] Well, the series of rich and poor, two parallel lines, two effects in themselves, objects of a parallel montage, but all the same, they encounter each other. Yes, first of all, they meet each other at infinity, at the infinity of human nature or at the infinity of God. But anyway, they meet each other, we keep saying, yes, they meet each other. How are they going to meet each other since this is parallel montage? You feel that we are passing from parallel montage to convergent montage very imperceptibly; there are even a thousand cases. We don’t know which one we are in.

In any case, it’s alternate montage. And yes, and yes, and yes, they will meet each other, but in what form? In the simplest form in the world: a representative of the rich who will have particular individual characteristics and a representative of the poor who will have particular individual characteristics will individually fall from his parallel line and grasp each other and fight against one another. A representative of the poor and a representative of the rich will drop there, each like a grape, like a fruit, will each drop from his line, each from his effect, and they will enter into the struggle which will cause a drama, which will introduce drama into the story. And this drama may be resolved by God or by the justice of men. It will have to be resolved. In the liberal conception, the poor must not lose too much, the poor must be saved, but not too saved, because, etc., whatever you want. Here the domain of the duel is located. A representative of the poor and a representative of the rich have collapsed against each other, grasped each other in a struggle; this is the binomial’s moment, this is the moment of the duel.

And here then, you have the second form of Griffith’s montage. The montage is no longer, and you see that the two forms of montage are strictly corresponding. This is still alternate montage, but it’s no longer parallel montage, but concurrent montage. Since this time, it is the poor one who stands out from his line of poor people, the rich one who stands out from his line of rich people and who will enter a duel face to face. I would say that from one to the other, we went from synsign to binomial, ready to go back from binomial to synsign, and it doesn’t stop being like that.

Okay, but then I am adding, the duel, when it grasps … it’s the one that collects the causes! The causes that we did not want to consider in order not to disturb the splendor of the effects, something had to be done with them. So, the causes will be rejected in the status of individual causes or dual causes, the causes of the duel between a rich man and a poor man. And this is the liberal vision, this is the liberal vision of history and of society. So, the liberal will be quite able to say: “don’t take me for an idiot, I know very well that the struggle exists!” But whenever he talks about the struggle, it will ultimately not be the individual struggle between a representative on one side and a representative on the other. It will not be the collective struggle on both sides. [Pause]

And if the causes have passed to the side of the duel, have been referred to the side of the individual duel, perhaps we might better understand the second aspect of history, and here I am not following Nietzsche; read the text, those who haven’t read it, who haven’t had the time, I am not following him, but I am borrowing the term from him: at the level of the duel, it is extremely important that history no longer be monumental history, since monumental history is to reserve the effects in themselves. At the level of the causes that are rejected in individual action, in the duel between individuals, etc., what will guarantee historicity, what is it? This is the antiquarian conception. The duel will have to be exact. It will have to be the duel as it exists at that era. And it will have to be either the duel of the knights, or the duel of the gladiators in the circus, or the duel of the first Christians, or the duel of the martyrs and the lion, etc., etc. It will literally be necessary to make the duel sparkle. And this is the antiquarian conception of history.

And it is enormously stupid to reproach Cecil B. DeMille for having created effects and costumes which were fake, which made, which produced a fake effect. Obviously, he dresses them all in new clothes, but he’s not stupid, after all. The rule is when you repeat such an enormous reproach, you have to tell yourself: the other guy must have nonetheless considered this. Why does he dress them all in new costumes? It wasn’t hard to make all that appear worn out. In fact, I believe that it is really in the name of this design, that this is a convenient symbol to mark the topicality of the use itself. The breastplates must sparkle, the chariots must be brand new, all that, all that is necessary. And each time, this is a kind of antiquarian conception of history, which then, there too, does not need writers to be created, but which really needs historians, guys who say: ah well yes, at that time, they used chariots with this many horses. Be careful, don’t use more horses. As for the other stories, the psychology of the duel itself, here they don’t give a damn, they don’t give a damn at all. They can make a Delilah who is a modern vamp. They can do all of that, you understand? That’s of great importance, of enormous importance.

On the other hand, what matters is… Think about the role of fabrics, for example, in cinema. And when this cinema conquers color, different fabrics will take on a role… I think of “Samson and Delilah” [1949] in which there are two great fabric episodes: there is the fabric merchant who produces all his fabrics. They are masterpieces of color-images. But here, this is a truly antiquarian conception, it must be fabrics and not objects. This truly is the perfect antiquarian conception of history. And then in Samson’s story itself, remember the Old Testament, one of the famous episodes of history is that Samson is going to steal 30 tunics, and Samson’s theft of the thirty tunics is a great moment as well of the color-image since the colors of the stolen tunics are precisely chosen by Cecil B. DeMille. And then, he’s going to throw them there into the crowd of the thirty men for whom he stole them, and all this cinema of fabric, where we can speak of a cinema of fabric that takes [this] into account, and when we speak about Hollywood’s bad taste, I am really floored. People who talk about Hollywood’s bad taste are really tasteless people; this is very weird because if you think of men like [Ernst] Lubitsch, like Cecil B. DeMille, etc., like [Josef von] Sternberg, [there is] a taste for fabrics in all forms, a kind of extraordinary, extraordinary aesthetic taste. Besides, they had an experience, they had an intense and personal experience of all of this. They knew the difference, they knew exactly what kind of fabric they wanted; they weren’t leaving that, they weren’t leaving that for their assistant, to find the fabric they wanted. They knew very well what they wanted, they wanted everything but writers. We understand in this tale that a writer had no place and so much the better, so much the better, so much the better. But fine, you see.

So, I’m adding the third conception. No matter, it follows from that, it’s going to be an ethical conception of history. Good and bad will be judged. History will be made to pass forward in the name of a tribunal. As Cecil B. DeMille also says, you have to know well, you have to know what is good and what is bad in this.

Can you continue a bit more? I can continue a bit, rather than stopping? Can we continue a while? Is that ok? Fine. A break for a minute? Without you moving around, because if you leave, you… A minute’s break. … [Interruption of the recording] [1:34:40]

I just want, in order to finish, here I tell myself, for those who are interested in this point. We should be able to do the same thing, not the same thing, in the sense, if necessary, of doing much better, for the different great conceptions of history in cinema. For example, it is obvious that in Gance, there is a conception of history. In my opinion, it is not at all the same as the one I just mentioned. It is obvious that elsewhere, that among the Italians, they had a conception… it seems to me that what is called the “antiquity [peplum] cinema”, that is, the… it participates fully in the monumental and antiquarian conception of history. That’s even what the Americans inherited, the “peplum”, from Italian antiquity. It was the Italians who invented, I believe, the monumental antiquarian conception. But anyway, we would have to do that with all other authors, on all other currents. And I would just like to add two points.

The first one, I won’t develop at all. But you see how stuck Eisenstein is, and from his own point of view. There is something well known, but not that I think should be taken seriously, because it is not abstract. If I tried to define American montage, well, Russian montage, the more Soviet montage, what is it? It’s a dialectical montage. For them, dialectics is not a word, especially at that period, it’s not a word that’s easy to accommodate. Dialects is really a process of genesis of movement that does not merge, therefore, which essentially concerns cinema for them. They don’t apply dialectics to cinema; they think that the cinema is going to be a location par excellence for the exercise of dialectics.

So, if you wanted to define all Soviet filmmakers, insofar as being Soviets, you’d say: obviously this very different from Americans. This is dialectical montage. I’m saying, it’s very different. If I try to say, there, there, that’s very insufficient, I just hold onto a small point: in terms of what I discussed about for Americans, if I tried to ask, what would that dialectical montage be? Undoubtedly, it calls for a connection of cause and effect. Moreover, the dialectic according to it [montage] is the only connection of causes and effects. Dialectic is the real connection, both natural and human, of causes and effects. So, they are not going to accept a conception of history which, on the one hand, considers effects in themselves abstract from their causes, and on the other hand, refers the causes to individual actions. That’s out, they won’t accept it. This is how you recognize a Marxist as opposed to a liberal. Let it be said: there are rich people, there are poor people. For them, whether there are rich and whether there are poor is not a matter of human nature, nor of divine distribution. This is the matter of the class struggle. And what does the class struggle mean? Well, in accordance with the genesis of movement in the dialectic, it means how 1, how 1 yields 2, which will yield back a modified 1. How does 1 yield 2 which will yield back 1, which will yield 1… — ah no, I no longer know what there is [Laughter] — which will yield a modified 1, you recognize the very rhythm of the dialectic and the rhythm to which Eisenstein adheres.

But at the same time, feel it — there, I don’t want at all to… because for that, I’d have to take another session then — I just want to indicate: but, he is oddly stuck. Because Eisenstein tells you and it’s obvious: he likes American cinema very much, he likes it very much. He knows that they saw something profound, and Eisenstein wants, because he finds that to be their great success, he wants at all costs to keep what we have called, ourselves, the great organic representation. He cares about that, he cares about that. Only there we are, he wants to keep the great organic representation, but he cannot keep either its parallel segments of it or the concurrent individual actions, because he is a dialectician. [Pause]

So, he’s very, very stuck! Obviously, he gets out of it, he’s brilliant, he gets out of it. He gets out of it by keeping the S-A-S’ spiral shape, in my opinion, but he’s going to change geometry. He’s going to do some genetic geometry, well, no matter. He will set the spiral in motion in such a way that there is a principle of generating turns, [Pause] and when there are two, and in parallel series, he will substitute the opposition, on the one hand, in the image, and the opposition, on the other hand, from one image to another. That will save him. He will dialectize the organic representation.

Okay, but the others, we have to relive Eisenstein, he was never the great respected god; at that time, they were fighting hard, right? The others spotted something, right? They were clever. They said: “But all that, Eisenstein, what you are giving us as cinema, it’s a bit bourgeois!” And Vertov, he was quietly laughing. He said: “You call that dialectic? No, that’s not the dialectic”. And being completely anti-Eisenstein, Vertov went on to say: If you really want to really do dialectics, you have to insert it already where Eisenstein can never risk going himself, namely “into the matter itself “.

Remember Eisenstein’s title, The Nonindifferent Nature, that is, the dialectic does not happen — in a way, he is forgiven; it’s idiotic, what I’m saying — he is Sartrean.[14] I mean, in the great discussion that occurred at one time, in which Sartre took a position, in which Sartre took a position, namely: is the dialectic necessarily a joint dialectic of nature and man? Or is there a dialectic of matter in itself, of nature without man? Sartre had violently staked a position by saying that there would only be the joint dialectic.[15] “Nonindifferent nature” means nature in man, and man in nature, and that’s the dialectic. But there is a whole other current of Marxism which thought that, on the contrary, the dialectic derives its true foundation in nature without man, so they insisted on the idea of ​​a materialist dialectic, against dialectics, and they reproached the others for being liberal humanists.

Eisenstein will go through that; he will be criticized for his liberal humanism, his complicity with American cinema. And in my opinion, that’s false, that’s false, and it’s true, all that. We no longer know; this is false and true. It is true that, but all this just to say that no matter how great Eisenstein was, he could not be taken as a representative of Soviet cinema at that time. Because ultimately, when we speak of “dialectical montage”, this is indeed a common point of all Soviet cinema, but since everyone has their own way of conceiving dialectics, and once again, Eisenstein’s dialectic is not is not at all the same as Vertov’s dialectic, and I think it is not even the same as the dialectic of, obviously I lost the name, of that guy of the earth there, of [Alexander] Dovzhenko, it’s very complicated.

And finally, another point to be done with this, but last year I had talked about it a bit. You see why I was saying at the beginning, by virtue of their conception of history, the Americans, monumental and antiquarian history, what are they going to do? Well, what they’re going to do is quite simple. They will consider everything as, once again I said it the last time, just as once again for the Russians, for the Soviets rather, the end of history is the proletariat, and we understand why, from a dialectical point of view. But from a liberal humanist point of view, that is, in a parallelist vision of history in which effects in themselves are compared from one civilization to another, regardless of their causes … [Interruption of the recording] [1:45:14]

… liberal, [Pause] hence, ah yes, everything is a dream, all American cinema is ultimately historical. All of American cinema is eternally the birth of a nation, America being the most original birth of a nation such that it alone recapitulates all the births of all other nations. And that is part, not all, part of the American dream.

And as we have seen, the American dream has two groups: synsign, binomial. Synsign: our nation is the great encompasser that will found the most diverse peoples, the first aspect of the dream. The second aspect of the dream: our nation will produce men, real Americans, who will always win in the duel. Fine, well, that’s the American dream! But hey, when did the American dream end? The American dream, I mean… you have to distinguish two things. The American dream, we must distinguish the doubts about this dream. You have to distinguish when it collapses. The moment it collapses is in the postwar years. And it collapses, one of the main reasons it collapses, in my opinion, it collapses for other reasons as well, but one of the main reasons is the explosion of minorities. This is the moment when the awareness and the action of minorities begin to say: melting pot, we’ll see about that. We are not sufficient for the melting pot. And that supposes new emigrants, that supposes, on the one hand, the awakening of the black movement; that obviously supposes the Black Panthers, but that supposes the rise of new minorities.

So here, these are guys who, we can’t even … this is a whole, this is a whole, there’s a whole story of emigration, you know. The great melting pot dream, you’ll find it in [John] Ford, well, he’s an Irishman. Yeah, for the Irish, that works. They will finally have a nation. Okay, that works well for the Irish. But for blacks, for Griffith, when it came to blacks, liberalism is done, right? Is the American nation a melting pot for all minorities? Ah yes, but careful, not for the blacks. Why? It’s going to be interesting because what is Griffith going to reproach black people for? Why this shame of “Birth of a nation”, however beautiful the film, this shame which marked him, which created his torment and the sadness of his life etc., why? Why? We’ll see, it’s not hard to understand, I think. But therefore, I am saying: the American dream collapses after the war. Now we must be honest: even for an American, all there is that’s American, one has to be a little, I don’t know, a little strange to keep talking about the American dream. We sense that this is not working any more. There are other things, there are other things, but … And in cinema, that did indeed stop after the war.

But, but, but, but, I am saying, there is quite another thing, the doubts about the dream, because the doubts about the American dream, that’s what I wanted to explain very quickly. It has always been an integral part of the American dream. That’s why you can’t say: there are guys who believed in the American Dream, and then there are guys who already doubted it. Doubts about the American dream have always been an integral part of this American dream. And it’s quite a Machiavellian but an historically very interesting operation. Because I would also like to relate it to the Marxist dialectic in a completely different way. I am saying doubts are part of the dream. Why? Because the American dream has always presented itself as a dream that derives its strength from being a dream. [Pause] Yes, it’s a dream. The proponents of the American dream have always told us: I am not in danger of being contradicted by the facts. Whatever facts you present to me, I will tell you, well, and it’s even worse, it’s even worse what you are telling me, but the American dream lives precisely from this: that it is only a dream. And that’s its potency, being a dream. That’s a strange idea. What does that mean, then? So, the more you tell me, no, but you’ve seen your corrupt judges, have you seen all that? I would say, yes! The other responds: I’m not an idiot, I’ve seen it all. And I am telling you my dream is but a dream, and that is how it is powerful. Ah that’s funny. Why? I say, why?

This is their idea, I imagine, I imagine. Here’s their idea, I guess: America is the rebirth of all nations in the mode of rebirth of a new nation, because fundamentally America is a “healthy” community. Why is it a healthy community? Precisely because of the two characteristics of the dream — you are going to tell me, we are going in circles… well no, we are not going in circles — because of the two characteristics of the dream, namely: melting pot of a minority, and then production men who know how to dominate the situation, ah, well, [Pause] this is a healthy community.

But what is a healthy community? Rather, let’s ask: what is an unhealthy community? To, to move forward: what is an unhealthy community? One would say in sociology, a morbid community or a pathogenic community, what is a pathogenic community? Well, some would ask, what is there that’s pathogenic in a community of criminals? Let me choose two examples: a community of criminals, a community of alcoholics, the bar world, the world of crime. What is there that’s pathogenic? What is there that’s unhealthy? What’s so morbid about that? Here, you can feel it. A simple answer is: in one killing occurs, and in the other, too much drinking occurs. That’s it, that’s it, but that’s not it, that’s not it. Here’s the reason why it is pathogenic. But if, following the monumental method, we seek the effect according to which it’s pathogenic, we are not dealing with the causes. They drink too much, okay, but after all, fine, and so what if they drink too much. They kill, ok, [a few unclear words] and how is this pathogenic, how is this morbid? It’s because these are societies or communities or groups that can no longer remain deluded about themselves. This is what defines the pathogenic milieu for the pre-war American. These are communities that cannot remain deluded about themselves.

Oh, hey, so, this is a community that… Oh, it’s very, very sad, a community that cannot remain deluded, according to the American nation, and then I’m not sure that corresponds to anything in Europe. And then, I’m not sure that corresponds to Americans either, because I don’t know, but I see them like that. People from before the war say that. If by any chance there was an American here, as he would necessarily be post-war, I am saying that his disagreement, his objections don’t matter. He would have to send to me his father, his grandfather, so I have time. [Laughter] Well, if they can’t remain deluded about themselves, how do you expect criminals to delude themselves about their own society? The law of the underworld, after all, the law of the underworld, everyone knows that … In the end, everyone knows what? I don’t know. But everyone suspects that this is a joke. They betray each other whenever they can, whenever they have an interest; they denounce each other, it’s the world of denunciation, of betrayal, well, all that. The law of the underworld is for the… I guess it’s for tour buses, I was going to say Japanese; no, the Japanese don’t get fooled by anything, it’s for the tour buses in Pigalle. We tell them, this is the law of the underworld. No, there is no law of the underworld. These are communities which, when they enter into an alliance, they know very well, and here, American crime cinema has shown very well how pathogenic these communities are.[16] In this respect, they cannot remain deluded. No matter how many blood oaths they swear, the sworn promises, all that, as soon as they leave the room, one guy makes a call to turn everyone over to the police. [Laughter] They are not deluding themselves.

What about the alcoholic? What about the alcoholic? I am going to tell you because here, I am certain – no personal experience [Laughter] –, because everyone knows, who hasn’t known these alcoholics, and who doesn’t even have their favorite alcoholics, because they are charming, they are charming? And what is it about an alcoholic, deep down? When he’s not deeply alcoholic, an alcoholic dreams, right? He dreams a bit. He believes himself, he believes himself to be strong, he believes himself, etc., he believes himself… But a real alcoholic, a real alcoholic? And that’s where I encounter the Americans — [Jack] London, who was a real alcoholic, a realest of the real alcoholic — they had so many great, great alcoholics. Without great alcoholics, I don’t know what American literature would be like [Laughter]; there wouldn’t be any. We have to be fair to it. There was no literature, no American literature. If I immediately remove the ones I identify immediately, eh, Edgar Poe, [F. Scott] Fitzgerald, [William] Faulkner, that’s quite a load. Jack London, he doesn’t stay with it heavily, right? Plus all those who were alcoholics that I don’t know about, who were drinking in secret, [Laughter] well, why alcoholics? It’s not that they’re phonies like criminals, no, it’s not that.

When they’re really alcoholics, do you know what they’re doing? Do you know what their desperation is? It’s that they’ve figured out the secret of things. That’s what alcoholism is! I’m saying that a man who claims to have figured out the secrets of things is an alcoholic and nothing but an alcoholic, even though he has never had a drink in his life. He has his alcohol, he has his own alcohol, one just has to discover what; he has seen the depth of things. And what is the depth of things? The depth of things is the masquerade, it is the universal masquerade. The depth of things is that we are all ripe for death; the depth of things is that we are puppets, and behind our way of being puppets, there is nothingness.

And the alcoholic has seen this nothingness that existed through people and within people, and that’s what makes the alcoholic basically someone desperate. That is, at the point of a possible treatment for alcoholism, each of us can each imagine one’s own, I will be a doctor — I am not saying that at all about drug addicts; drug addicts are not at all the same — but the alcoholic, it’s in this that the thing must be attacked, this kind of absolute nihilism, this absolute nihilism of the alcoholic. And London, who knew this from experience, has some splendid expressions. He tells us: “Alcohol does not allow a dreamer to dream.” I consider this to be one of the most beautiful ways to define alcohol. That’s it, alcohol, that’s what alcohol is, it’s what does not allow a dreamer to dream. Ah, ah, understand why at first, so it’s trap is that at the beginning, it instead allows dreams and some very pleasant daydreams. But as soon as you’re within the thing, that’s over. It doesn’t allow you that.

I know an alcoholic who I prefer and that… and he’s a village alcoholic: he’s a grocer, a grocer. He’s really, he’s really dead drunk at 8 AM when he opens, when he opens his store. Can you imagine? That’s not nothing, living with a guy like that, oh it’s not nothing! It happens. He’s there. And so, when I see him, it’s shameful. Because I have real compassion and very great esteem for him, and you know what it is, things are very different. I can’t help laughing at the same time since, ah, it’s disgusting that I can laugh because it shows that I’m participating in his alcoholism from an angle that I too am claiming to have seen the depth of things, which is really vile; ah I hadn’t seen that in this story, I got off on the wrong foot.

But it wasn’t only with him that I’ve seen this. But I think it connects. There is something analogous to this state of perfection, I only saw it in this man. Whatever you say to him, he responds with a laugh, but a laugh that no longer has anything human, a laugh that is a kind of snicker, not at all hostile, not at all aggressive. It’s not aggression. A laugh so strange, so strange which is: ah yes, behind what you are saying, behind what you are talking about, I see, I see something, I see. And what is that something he sees? Basically, a bad potency [une puissance mauvaise]. It’s not at all that he’s nasty. Not at all. I tell him: “the weather is nice”, he has this laugh: “ah ah ah ah” — I can’t imitate him [Laughter] — and that doesn’t at all mean: “you poor asshole. You think the weather is nice, it’s not nice.” That’s not what I mean. It’s, “okay, the weather’s nice, and then so what, and so what? What do I see behind this what does ‘the weather’s nice’ mean? What is this masquerade?” I ask him: “How are you, your daughters?” Well, there! [Laughter] There he reaches the peak of a snicker [Laughter] that isn’t even about the daughters’ ingratitude toward their father, if that was it; it’s a cosmic snicker. “How’s it going… My daughters… I’ve seen, I’ve completely reaching the end of this, completely reached the end of everything.”

So, I would say the alcoholic like the criminal, for very different reasons, these are communities. That’s why they get along with each other. There are alcoholic communities, then criminal communities, I forget, there are others. That’s why; they cannot delude themselves about themselves. They are smart, they are not deluding themselves. They know, they know something very profound. London, more and more inspired, said: “Alcohol is pure reason”. That, I find that sublime as an expression. [Laughter] “Alcohol is pure reason,” which is, in fact, the opposite of dreams, the opposite of imagination. This is all in a very beautiful book by London in which there is the worst and the best. The best part is when he talks about what alcohol is, which is called John Barleycorn [1913], which was his manifesto, which had enormous significance in the United States, which was his manifesto against alcohol. Now, it’s pure reason, it’s cold reason. In other words, these are communities, like crime, like alcohol. You have communities that we can call pathogens according to the Americans, because they can no longer have any illusions about themselves.

So, I am returning to my topic, understand: I can very well say a community is healthy as long as it can still maintain illusions about itself. You can tell me, this is wrong, this is not true, but I am trying to reconstruct American thinking about the American dream. A community is healthy. It is basically good and sane and liberal, whatever it does, when it can still maintain delusions about itself. Okay, the American dream is just a dream, but that’s how it gains its potency. What would it risk in [John] Ford’s day? Hence Ford’s words: “I believe in the American dream”. But “I believe in the American dream” doesn’t mean at all “I believe the American dream is a reality”; it means exactly the opposite. “I believe in the effectiveness of the American dream as a dream”, that is, I believe that we are still a community capable of deluding ourselves about ourselves, and that in this way, in that way, and that there is something good in this nation.

But that didn’t last. They can no longer delude themselves quite as much — we can find some who do, of course, we always find everything — they can no longer delude themselves so much about…, they have passed into a state much more similar to that of aging Europe which, for a very long time, could not maintain any illusions about itself. We were specialists, so we really were the perfect alcoholic civilization. As for illusion, this was not our forte. You understand? But then here, there is something very, very important because next this will go very far. For Ford and for everyone, there is a limit; you step out of the healthy community, that is, the American dream, when you fall into a state in which you can no longer delude yourself or your community. So, this is the criminal’s case, it’s the alcoholic’s, who else is it? It’s the traitor’s case, it’s the informer’s, it’s the snitch’s.

When you’ve done something like that, when you’ve done something like that, when you’ve indeed turned someone in, you can’t have many illusions about yourself. The American dream is driven away. And one of Ford’s finest films is “The Informer”, “The Informer” [1935] which presents an Irishman who is driven to denounce his group and who falls into a kind of abjection, it is degradation. American degradation, you see, is very special. This is the man who falls into a community that can no longer maintain delusions about itself. It is either the degradation of crime, or the degradation of alcohol, or the degradation of betrayal or denunciation. Hence the importance of the traitor in all of American cinema.

But a further step was needed, a further step was needed. Someone had to arrive for whom denunciation had been a problem — here I am speaking without joking — both a metaphysical and personal problem sufficiently serious for him to say, well, yes in fact! Denunciation does not rule out the American dream. There is something moving about this attempt. Because there are always times when you will be called upon to denounce someone. For if you do not betray others, you will betray yourself, and you will betray justice. And this guy who made this very, very bizarre attempt, this obsessive attempt, this sickly attempt, and which marked, in my opinion, the end of this type of image in the cinema, the first manner action-image, is obviously [Elia] Kazan.[17]

Yeah, denunciation is part of the American dream itself. So, what if the American dream included denunciation? Okay, fine. But how was he saying that? He was saying that just as the American dream was collapsing everywhere and in all sorts of ways. We could still go along with it, that didn’t help. And above all, he found himself with his personal problem, etc., etc. Okay, you understand, so anyway, to finish this, since I just alluded to Kazan, here I would still like to fill in a slot today. We haven’t been very… here, I had left … So, I have the synsign and the binomial with all that. This whole tale about the American dream, about montage, we’ve still seen a lot of things that we hadn’t seen last year.

But I am saying, a genetic sign. You remember, these are the two signs of composition for the action-image. At one pole: the synsign, at another pole, the binomial. At one pole, the situation, at another pole, the action. But we need, we need a genetic sign. What is the genetic sign? Here I am on the trail of something. I need a sign that is going to be able to weld action to situation and situation to action. If I find … And, moreover, welded from within, because after all, situation-action is behavior observable from the outside. I need an internal weld within the character itself, a weld of the situation and the action. You understand? If I obtain an inner weld that establishes the link between the milieu and the outer behavior, and which keeps reactivating this link, I will have my genetic sign. So luckily, last year we saw that. But I was entirely unaware that, in fact, it had to be made a special sign, since it was going to shift my whole story of the action-image. Because for those who weren’t here, I’ll sum it up really in two minutes. I’m giving myself four more minutes because we can’t take anymore. You understand?

How do you get this inner connection? It would suffice for the character caught in a situation to keep soaking himself in the situation. Like a breath, he soaks up the situation from one side. In other words, the situation passes inside by permeation. The situation becomes, it is internalized in the character through permeation. And the action, once he has soaked in the situation, the action will explode. You see that this is a very big reinforcement of that action-image. I have: permeating situation, detonating action, explosive action. This must link together, and that true reason and that link really have to be inside the guy, and I was saying last year, remember, these are the two aspects of life according to Bergson in the admirable pages of Creative Evolution. Go back and look at them.[18]

When Bergson tells us: life is differentiated in two directions, there are, on one side, plants which store the explosive, that is, the energy, which store the energy, but which are motionless; on the other hand, animals which are mobile, therefore detonate the energy, detonate the explosive. They don’t know how to store it, but they know how to detonate it. Plants store energy, they do not know how to detonate it; animals know how to detonate the explosive, but they do not know how to store it. Hence the necessity, in divine wisdom, for beasts to eat plants; they have to eat the plants, or they have to eat other beasts that have eaten the plants themselves. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work. There you have the outline of life itself, which is the succession of vegetable permeations and animal actions. The permeating situation is the vegetative pole of behavior, the vegetative interior pole. Explosive action is the animal inner pole.

And remember this time, however little you may know about the biology of the egg, what are the opening chapters of biology of the egg, or of embryology? It’s this: the egg has two poles, a pole which is called the plant pole and a pole which is called the animal pole. And to this is added that this is the interior structure of the egg, which is revealed only in the moments of structuring, that is, in movement, in action, that is, when the egg enters the processes of divisions, cell divisions, magnificent, the vegetative pole and the active animal pole. [19]

Now what is it, there, I was saying, Kazan, what is this — I talked about it last year, so I’m going really fast — what is the Actors’ Studio? The Actors’ Studio is the actors’ method of saying or doing: you will never remain quiet. This is the way in which they are exhausting. You will never remain quiet. Sometimes you will soak up the situation and sometimes you will explode by “acting out”. And one will succeed the other. And that will be all you see in Kazan’s cinema. But in everything, in all American cinema marked by the Actors’ Studio, this is insane. You just see guys behaving like plants soaking up the atmosphere and then like animals exploding into each other, into each other.

So, there is one guy who broke everything. It’s [Samuel] Fuller, it’s Fuller. He said: not that way, I’ll show you. And instead of doing a Kazan-style linkage, he blew it all up. He said, it’s as if he said, do you want plants? I’ll make some real plants for you. And that’s the crazy people of “Shock Corridor” [1963] and then, he says, you want acting out? Well then, I’m going to make some real animals for you, and this is “White Dog” [1982], his last film where he has this splendid phrase: “I explained to the dog that he was an actor”. I explained to the dog that he was an actor, there is no better critique, if there is any place to critique the Actors’ Studio. The flip side of the proposition is: I explained to the plants that they were actresses. Obviously.

Okay, but then the permeating situation, explosive action, the inner knot, what is this? The more I soak up, the more I will explode, etc. Well yes, well yes, there is a gimmick. It’s here that Kazan is very interesting. He says, “I don’t like close-ups that much”. Yet he knows how to take close-ups. There are wonderful close-ups in Kazan’s work. But he said, “I don’t like close-ups that much.” I find that from the point of view of behavior, that is, of the action-image, there is something that works much better, and that is the importance that an object can have as, even from a behavioral point of view, it arouses an emotion. We see the actor or character handling an object. So, this is not organized behavior. He handles it, even if only chewing gum. This is also a manner in which the Actors’ Studio, the Actors’ Studio actor, cannot sit still. He always has to be doing something. He has to soak up when he isn’t in action, he permeates himself. So, chewing gum is a very effective method of permeation, and then he will explode into action. But then the internal link between the two is an object, I handle it the entire time that I’m soaking up the situation.

But careful, this is very complicated. The object must be more or less improvised. It’s not going to be determined by the director in advance. The actor must invent his object, take it at random. This is going to be a very big factor of permeation. I’m feeling a strange atmosphere, I’ll take that, [Here, Deleuze imitates the actor with his random object] or else I’ll mess with someone. This is odd. The permeating situation is accompanied by handling objects with no apparent purpose. And what effect is this seemingly endless manipulation of an object supposed to have on the actor, and therefore on the character as well? Arousing an emotion, not producing a current emotion, but arousing a past emotion, and that’s the famous couple of the Actors’ Studio: contact-affective memory. You see that the link, there is not only … — what I want to say gets complicated; I’ll end with that — it’s not just, first layer, situation-action; second layer: permeating situation-explosive action, this is already more interior; and a third layer: object attached to the situation and handled without purpose, emotion corresponding to the situation and aroused in the actor.

You have three layers here. Handling an object, you’ll find this constantly in Kazan’s work. The guy handles something there; before exploding, he handles it. This is very odd, that’s how the guys from the Actors’ Studio act, or well, they used to act, because there aren’t many of them now. Fine. So, all the same, the Americans have all gone through this in that era. It really was eminently realist acting. I will call this, this coexistence of plant and animal, of permeation and detonation, it has a famous name in psychiatry, it is what we will call, to pay homage to psychiatry, “neurosis of hysteria”. So, we could do… we could do, you know? This is so that you do it yourself. We could do the pathology of each of the images, right? The affection-image is very strong, it’s the great expressionist madness, it is the great expressionist madness with hallucination. I would say, it’s hallucinatory delirium. The impulse-image, then, its cruelty, its cruelty, is the psychosis of perversion. It is the perversion that reaches its psychotic depth. The action-image, I would say, well you see, it’s very simple: it’s the neurosis of hysteria, it’s the neurosis of hysteria. That’s good, it’s nothing… well, “it’s good”, no it’s not, because this has a very strong psychotic base, this type of vegetable pole, animal pole, this is not nothing, right?

But so here are my three layers. Henceforth, I no longer have any problems. What is my sign? You have my three layers in mind. At the bottom of the third most interior layer which will ensure the link of the permeating situation to the explosive action, this genetic sign which merges with the way in which I handle any object whatsoever, awakening in me an emotion, an affective content, this must be called an “imprint”. An imprint, therefore, I’m putting “imprint” here. And we’ve earned a little square today. But alas, for the next time, we will not find ourselves confronting the mental age, as we had hoped, since another slot has been imposed on us that must be filled, for us, for us. So, that’s the point I’ve reached now. [He taps the board, on the empty slots in the graph] [End of the recording] [2: 22: 57]

 

Notes

[1] See sessions 14 and 15 of Cinema seminar I, March 23 and April 20, 1982; see also The Movement-Image, p. 141-144 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 197-198).

[2] Deleuze had already proposed the term “binomial” for the duel.

[3] On montage in the works D.W. Griffith and Sergei Eisenstein, see chapter 3 in The Movement-Image.

[4] Besides chapter 3 in The Movement-Image, Deleuze discusses montage in session 14 of Cinema seminar I, March 23, 1982.

[5] See also The Movement-Image, pp. 13-14, 33-34, 180-181 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 25, 51-52, 246).

[6] The reference is Uber die Moderne Kunst (Berne: Verlag Benteli, 1945); On Modern Art, trans. Paul Findlay (London: Faber & Faber 1949), p. 55. On the “people missing”, see also The Time-Image, pp. 216-217 & p. 320, note 41 (L’Image-Temps, pp. 282-283).

[7] On these groups in Hawks, see The Movement-Image, pp. 166-167 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 228-229).

[8] On Eisenstein’s “Ivan the Terrible” from this perspective, see The Movement-Image, p. 34 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 52-53).

[9] On this topic, see The Movement-Image, chapter 9, L’Image-Mouvement, especially pp. 147-158.

[10] Deleuze renders the chapter title as “De l’inconvénient et des avantages des études historiques”, On the disadvantage and advantages of historical studies. On these historical perspectives in Nietzsche, see The Movement-Image, pp. 149-151.

[11] This event occurred in Paris during the Thirty-Years War in the sixteenth century, on August 24, 1572.

[12] The expression that Deleuze cites as a play on words, « des faits qui font de l’effet sur toutes les époques », does not seem to be an exact transcription of what Nietzsche says in the French edition of Untimely Meditations, monumental history described “as a collections of ‘effects in themselves’, that is, of events that, in all eras, will be able to make an impression” [comme une collection d’ « effets en soi », c’est-à-dire d’événements qui, en tout temps, pourront faire de l’effet], Considérations intempestives, part II, “Second considération inactuelle”,  http://philosophie.cegeptr.qc.ca/Second-considération-inactuelle-1874.pdf , p. 14.

[13] See note 2 on Griffith’s montage in The Movement-Image, p. 222 (L’ImageMouvement, p. 51), where Deleuze provides a different essay title, “Dickens, Griffith, and Film Today”.

[14] On Eisenstein’s title, see The Movement-Image, pp. 35-40 and 180-182 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 55-59 et 246-248).

[15] On this debate, and Sartre’s position stated in Critique de la raison dialectique, see The Movement-Image, p. 223, note 10 (L’Image-Mouvement, p. 59, note 10).

[16] Deleuze says “le cinéma noir américain” in contrast to “le film noir américain”, a genre that he recognizes specifically. So, the translation would normally reflect this distinction, American Black cinema, and not America film noir. However, in the context of what Deleuze says in the lines following this cinema characterization, the logical translation choice makes very little sense, hence rendering this as American crime cinema, a cousin as it were to film noir.

[17] On Kazan and these aspects of American cinema, see The Movement-Image, pp. 156-159 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 215-217).

[18] On these points, see session 15 of the Cinema seminar I, April 20, 1982.

[19] A brief discussion of the egg and the outline of the poles precedes discussion of Kazan, Fuller, and the Actors’ Studio, in The Movement-Image, p. 155-156 (L’Image-Mouvement, pp. 214-215).

Notes

For archival purposes, the augmented and new time stamped version of the transcription was completed in March 2021. Additional revisions were made in December 2021. The translation was completed in December 2021. Additional revision occurred in February 2024. [NB: The transcript time stamp is in synch with the WebDeleuze recording link provided here.]

Lectures in this Seminar

square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol
square right_ol