[silverscreenting]

IMAGE 1: still from Killing Time (1979) dir. Fronza Woods

IMAGE 2: Danielle McKinney, ‘After Worship,’ 2020

“For all its comedic anglings, there is nothing mocking about ‘Killing Time’. The unnamed woman is claiming the little fragments of control and beauty we wrest from even the most unlivable circumstances. We are not given any background as to what might have brought her to this point, and the only traces of uncertainty are expressed in the terms of method and presentation. Her many outfit changes are the conduit for all her hesitation – perhaps displaced into a more manageable sphere. Both as the unexpected mechanism of suicide prevention and as the means by which we discover something of her character – aesthetically minded, picky, careful – ‘Killing Time’ is traced through clothing. The first image of the unnamed woman is of her laying obliquely on an unmade bed, with her head hanging off the right side and one arm dangling to the floor, doubled by a girlish cutout figure on her white dress. The outline resembles the visual shorthand for a women’s restroom or the contours of a child’s cutout in coloured paper. Positioned over her stomach, it also has the disquieting symbolic charge of a phantom child. Woods is skilled at saying a lot with a little.”

- Yasmina Price for Another Screen

[silverscreenting]

The existence of a revolutionary cinema is inconceivable without the constant and methodical exercise of practice, search, and experimentation. It even means committing the new film-maker to take chances on the unknown, to leap into space at times, exposing himself to failure as does the guerrilla who travels along paths that he himself opens up with machete blows. The possibility of discovering and inventing film forms and structures that serve a more profound vision of our reality resides in the ability to place oneself on the outside limits of the familiar, to make one's way amid constant dangers. Our time is one of hypothesis rather than of thesis, a time of works in progress - unfinished, unordered, violent works made with the camera in one hand and a rock in the other. Such works cannot be assessed according to the traditional theoretical and critical canons. The ideas for our film theory and criticism will come to life through inhibition-removing practice and experimentation.

Fernando Solanas’ and Octavio Getino’s “Toward a Third Cinema”

[silverscreenting]

textures and textiles in Hreash House (2004) dir. Rosalind Nashashibi

[silverscreenting]

Hreash House (2004) dir. Rosalind Nashashibi

“One family as an entire community ‘Hreash House’ shows an extended Palestinian family living a collective existence in a concrete block in Nazareth. It shows a feast and its aftermath during Ramadan.” — Another Screen

[silverscreenting]

Rosalind Nashashibi interviewed by Daniella Shreir for Another Screen

Her films, Dahiet Al Bareed, District of the Post Office (2002) - Hreash House (2004), and Electrical Gaza (2015) are currently playing on Another Screen as part of their Palestinian Women Filmmakers showcase

[01sentencereviews]

Sometimes I think that life would be so much easier if we didn’t have to think about being boys or girls or men or women or old or young, fat or thin… if we could all just be certain we were the same. We might be bored, but the danger of life and of living would be gone…

The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, “August 7, 1984″ by Jennifer Lynch (via 01sentencereviews)

[gothhabiba]

off on a tangent I think that the way in which a lot of memes endlessly reproduce content by fracturing it & alienating it from its context is troubling, not to sound like a curmudgeon…. like I’ve seen at least three “loss” memes in the last week–all edited to within an inch of their lives, all with a bunch of people adding onto the thread as the images got pushed further and further into the absurd, all untagged of course–& there is no power on this earth that could explain to me how those are funny. I’ve seen a “meme” that consisted of a video where a man pretended to kill his girlfriend with a bomb for the camera, reblogged by a man uncritically. videos of people we don’t know in situations we don’t know anything about having strong emotional reactions to things are being stripped from the original contexts in which the people depicted experienced them & transformed into a blank slate for us to remix into ever-increasing states of fragmentation & there is no reverence for human suffering……….. like those memes labelling “me” “2016″ “2017″ etc. where “me” is being beaten up & it came out that one of those images was of someone being beaten for being gay. so we’ve been.. sharing an image of someone being brutalised in a homophobic hate crime because we’ve made it so that we can see a person, on the ground, surrounded by people who are.. kicking his prone body, & not wonder “what’s going on in this image, who took this image, is this person okay, what happened here” but just automatically & unthinkingly treat it as something to map our own experience onto (not that that experience does not also contain suffering–but still) because we no longer see the victim in this image as a human being. & of course when you add this to the aforementioned antiblackness, willingness to spread images of violence against Black people & to see Black people as performers before people, it’s just insidiousness on top of insidiousness

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

L'amour existe (Maurice Pialat, 1960)

[jonty-tiplady-deactivated201806]

The cut is always from this

to this

LA

CA

(we never see what is between)

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

La noire de… (a.k.a. Black Girl) (Ousmane Sembene, 1966)

[nextwavecinema]

A History of Protest and Activism at the Oscars

While we wait for what the Academy Awards might hold on Sunday, it's worth revisiting the ceremony's history of protest, beginning with Marlon Brando's rejection of his award in 1973.

kept it on brand this oscar weekend and i ​wrote ​about ​my favorite party convo: ​the diabolical genesis of the academy awards​,​ ​its​ legacy of political advocacy @ the ceremony​, & how we’re possibly entering the beginning stages of mass action​ at publicized cultural events

[01sentencereviews]

[haidaspicciare]

Al Pacino

[oranjeseliterature]

Gena Rowlands in Opening Night

[filmografie]

Sometimes, even with a film I really love, I cannot tell the story precisely. Sometimes I cannot even tell what happened chronologically. But I’ll have flashes of some things. Sometimes it looks almost like a still. What I know, what I can remember is the emotion I felt. I know I loved a film because I remember feeling good in the film or feeling odd when I came out, either in tears or touched or mad.

Agnès Varda, from an interview with Melissa Anderson, 2001 (via filmografie)

[snpsnpsnp]

Alfred Hitchcock and Joan Fontaine on the set of Rebecca (1940)

[snpsnpsnp]

Sheryl Lee and Moira Kelly in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

[abderrahmane-sissako-deactivate]

Black Girl (1966)