Audencia culture

David Lynch, the disappearance of the master of art cinema

Cinéma / TV, , ,

French version below

January 2015. My family has a very specific ritual: every Saturday night, we used to watch a film or series. My parents suggested that my brother and I discover Twin Peaks. A simple pitch: Laura Palmer, a well-liked teenager, is found lifeless by the lake in Twin Peaks, a quiet town that hides many secrets. Little did I know at the time that this series would leave a deep impression on me.  

Ten years later, I enjoyed this cult series for a second time… only to learn in the following weeks that David Lynch had died. The news sounds a heartbreak for me. At the age of 78, he leaves behind a multitude of unanswered questions and a legacy that will remain forever elusive. His entire body of work is an enigma, still the subject of eternal theories and speculation.  

David Lynch was not initially destined to become a film director. He entered the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts with the firm intention of becoming a painter. Deeply inspired by the work of Francis Bacon, Lynch was already projecting onto his paintings the dark, anxiety-inducing world that would later appear in his films. At the end of the 1960s, he began making animated short films, which were gradually mixed with live action. His many experiments culminated in Eraserhead (1977), a nightmarish first feature in which he brought his darkest fears to life.  

His second film, Elephant Man (1980), is just as tragic, drawing heavily on the life of Joseph Merrick, a man with a deformed face. Nominated in eight categories at the Oscars, it marked the director’s public consecration. On the road to success, David Lynch was entrusted with the big-screen adaptation of Dune (1984), but his artistic demands diverged from commercial expectations. The film was cut by an hour, and received a great reception from both press and audience.  

Blue Velvet (1986) was Lynch’s revenge, since he had control over the entire project right up to the final cut. The film divided critics as much for its unhealthy, revolting eroticism as for its strangely surreal nature. In 1990, while his fifth feature Wild at Heart was winning the Palme d’Or at the 43rd Cannes Film Festival, the pilot for Twin Peaks was broadcast on ABC. Without knowing it, David Lynch was to revolutionize the universe of series by combining his cinematic vision with the TV format. The first episode was a huge hit with American households and worldwide. The series became a must-see, remained enigmatic, and the answers were not to be found either in the prequel Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, released the following year, or in the third season, Twin Peaks: The Return, released in 2017.  

Lynch followed this up with Lost Highway (1997), The Straight Story (1999) and Mulholland Drive (2001), other projects with powerful symbolism, and the last one Inland Empire (2006), a return to his freer, more spontaneous beginnings. In it, he explores the dark side of Hollywood, portraying disembodied characters trapped in a merciless industry.  

If I had to sum up his cinema in a single word, “hors-norme” (literally out of the ordinary) would undoubtedly be the truest to his universe. David Lynch has never stopped thinking outside the box, playing with the rules of conventional narrative. The fact that his whole artwork so difficult to get is no accident. It is up to the viewer to put the pieces together and make their own interpretation. Like the Arte documentary David Lynch, une énigme à Hollywood (currently available), I would like to end this article with these words from David Lynch: “There is still so much to say, so many stories to tell. In the end, every life is a mystery until we find the key. We’re all heading in that direction, consciously or unconsciously.” 

Marie Damongeot

David Lynch, la disparition du maître du cinéma d’art

Janvier 2015. Ma famille a un rituel bien précis : chaque samedi soir, nous regardons un film ou une série. Mes parents proposent à mon frère et moi de découvrir alors Twin Peaks. Le pitch : Laura Palmer, une adolescente appréciée de tous, est retrouvée sans vie au bord du lac de Twin Peaks, une ville tranquille qui cache bien des secrets. J’ignore à ce moment-là que cette série me marquera viscéralement.  

Dix ans plus tard, je savoure une seconde fois cette série culte … avant d’apprendre dans les semaines suivantes que David Lynch est décédé. La nouvelle me fait l’effet d’un crève-cœur. A 78 ans, il laisse derrière lui une multitude de questions en suspens et un héritage à jamais  insaississable. Son œuvre entière est une énigme qui fait encore aujourd’hui l’objet d’éternelles théories et spéculations.  

David Lynch n’avait pourtant pas vocation à devenir réalisateur au départ. Il fait ses premiers pas à l’Académie des Beaux-Arts de Pennsylvannie avec la ferme intention de devenir artiste peintre. Profondément inspiré par l’œuvre de Francis Bacon, Lynch projette déjà sur ses tableaux un univers sombre et anxiogène que l’on retrouvera plus tard dans ses films. A la fin des années 1960, il entreprend de réaliser des court-métrages animés, puis progressivement mélés à des prises de vue réelles. Ses nombreuses expérimentations aboutissent à Eraserhead (1977), un premier-long métrage cauchemardesque dans lequel il donne vie à ses angoisses les plus noires.  

Son second film, Elephant Man (1980), est d’un registre tout aussi tragique, puisqu’il s’inspire largement de la vie de Joseph Merrick, un homme au visage difforme. Nommé dans huit catégories aux Oscars, il sonne la consécration publique du réalisateur. Engagé sur la voie du succès, David Lynch se voit confier l’adaption sur grand écran de Dune (1984), mais ses exigences artistiques divergent des attentes commerciales. Le film est amputé d’une heure et reçoit un accueil mitigé de la presse et des spectateurs.  

Blue Velvet (1986) apparaît alors comme la revanche de Lynch, qui a la main mise sur l’entièreté du projet jusqu’au final cut. Le film divise la critique autant par son érotisme malsain et révoltant que sa nature étrangement surréaliste. En 1990, tandis que la Palme d’Or du 43ème festival de Cannes est décernée à son cinquième long-métrage Sailor et Lula, le pilote de Twin Peaks est diffusé sur la chaîne ABC. Sans le savoir, David Lynch va révolutionner le monde des séries en conjuguant son regard de cinéaste au format TV. Le premier épisode rencontre un franc succès auprès des foyers américains et au-delà des frontières. Une série devenue incontournable qui restera néanmoins énigmatique, et dont on ne trouvera les réponses ni dans son prequel Twin Peaks : Fire Walk With Me sorti l’année suivante, ni dans sa troisième saison Twin Peaks : The Return sortie en 2017.  

Lynch poursuit sa lancée avec Lost Highway (1997), Une Histoire Vraie (1999) et Mulholland Drive (2001), autres projets à la symbolique puissante, puis finalement Inland Empire (2006), qui s’annonce comme un retour à ses débuts plus libres et spontanés. Il y explore la part d’ombre d’Hollywood en mettant en scène des personnages désincarnés et pris au piège d’une industrie sans merci.  

Si je devais résumer son cinéma, hors-norme serait sans doute le mot le plus fidèle à son univers. David Lynch n’a jamais cessé de sortir des sentiers battus en jouant avec les règles de la narration conventionnelle. Le fait que ses œuvres soient si difficilement déchiffrables n’a jamais été pensé au hasard. C’est au spectateur que revient la tâche (ou peut-être l’honneur ?) de rassembler les pièces du puzzle et de se faire sa propre interprétation. A l’instar du documentaire Arte David Lynch, une énigme à Hollywood (actuellement disponible), je terminerai cet article par ces paroles de David Lynch : « Il reste tant à dire, tant d’histoires à raconter. En fin de compte, chaque vie est un mystère jusqu’à ce que nous en trouvions la clé. On vogue tous vers cette direction, consciemment ou pas. » 

Marie Damongeot  

Techno Music And Evolution Of the Movement 

Musique, Non classé,

In the dimly lit warehouses of Detroit in the 1980s, a new sound emerged which would be fertile ground for contestation. Techno music was forged in the remnants of industrial decline and would be more than just an electronic rhythm. 

Detroit : The Cradle of Techno Music 

Detroit, a city once at the heart of America’s industrial American dynamic in the early 20th century with an era of establishment of major automotive companies like Ford, General Motors, and Chrysler., had fallen into economic ruin. Abandoned factories and rising unemployment became the backdrop for a generation of Black youth looking for an alternative future. Among them were Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson (known as the Belleville Three) who were inspired by the mechanized rhythms of Kraftwerk, the synth-driven explorations of Giorgio Moroder, and the funk of Parliament-Funkadelic, they created a new sound: techno. 

For these pioneers, techno was of artistic expression of an Afrofuturist vision. By using drum machines like Roland TR-808 and synthesizer , initially designed for sequencing basslines and unwelcomed by the expected public, these producers turned for building hypnotic, psychedelic soundscapes bringing a more experimental and immersive way of dancing. 

From Underground to Global Movement 

While techno remained an underground movement in the U.S. during its early years, it found an eager audience in Europe, particularly in Berlin. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 coincided with the explosion of electronic music culture in the city, where abandoned warehouses and bunkers became venues for hedonistic, post-Cold War raves. Techno became the soundtrack of reunification, symbolizing freedom from past divisions. 

At the same time, emerging in the late 1980s, acid house, with its hypnotic 303 basslines, became the backbone of the U.K.’s rave explosion. It fueled the rise of illegal warehouse parties and outdoor raves, challenging state control over public spaces. The government responded with the Criminal Justice Act (1994), which targeted raves and their « repetitive beats, » unintentionally reinforcing the music’s status as a symbol of defiance. Acid house also dismantled social barriers, uniting working-class youth, punks, and marginalized communities under a shared ethos of collective euphoria and resistance to Thatcherite neoliberalist conservatism. 

Techno and Counterculture: A Political Statement 

Throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, this underground movement turned into a tool of protestation. In the U.S., events like Reclaim the Streets turned techno sound systems into instruments of opposition against urban privatization, police repression and capitalist austerism. In Eastern Europe and Latin America, techno raves became spaces of political expression, challenging authoritarian governments and economic oppression as with the Czechtek festival in Czech Republic or Buenos Aires’ resistance raves in early 2000’s. 

The free party movement carried the ethos of techno as an act of defiance against corporate control over music and public spaces. Meanwhile, artists like Underground Resistance in Detroit infused their music with radical anti-capitalist and pro-Black liberation messages, reinforcing the genre’s political edge. 

The Rise of Corporate EDM and the Fragmentation of Techno 

By the late 2000s, the mainstream music industry had appropriated electronic music, transforming it into the commercial EDM (Electronic Dance Music) phenomenon. Festivals like Electric Daisy Carnival and Ultra Music Festival prioritized spectacle over subversion, making techno and its underground ethos less visible in popular culture. 

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, techno has undergone a significant transformation, accelerating its reappropriation by capitalist structures through social media. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have depoliticized the genre, reducing it to a glossy, marketable aesthetic centered on mainstream festivals and celebrity DJs, stripping away its rebellious essence. The rise of algorithm-driven visibility favors viral artists and events, standardizing the music and prioritizing sponsorship deals over radical experimentation. Simultaneously, gentrification has reshaped club culture, with underground spaces being replaced by luxury venues and corporate-backed festivals, further alienating the grassroots communities that originally defined the movement. 

The evolution of this initial cultural and political contestation is one of many examples of how capitalism has been applying a strategy of reappropriation of underground movements to turn them into profit when it becomes developed and fertile enough. 

However, in the underground, the spirit of techno persists. DIY raves, community-run festivals, and independent labels continue to push the boundaries of the genre, ensuring that its roots in resistance and futurism remain intact. 

Why won’t I go watch A Complete Unknown  

Cinéma / TV, ,

(French Version Below)

In recent years, biopics have become the undisputed star of the big screen. Every month, a new film promises to «reveal» the fascinating story of an icon (singer, sportsman, scientist or political figure). And yet, you always end up with a feeling of déjà vu.  

The biopic is always the same formula, worn down to the rope and that we unroll lazily according to the same pattern: 

  • Difficult childhood or traumatic event experienced by the future star (directly told or through the presence of countless flashbacks) 
  • The rise of the protagonist, despite a difficult and fraught with pitfalls (often embodied by an antagonist character, who is part of mainstream currents and who tries to discourage the rising star, like Hank Snow with Elvis)  
  • And finally, the triumph (often accompanied by a « mythical » performance or major event.) 

Add to that a nice soundtrack (which takes the artist’s greatest commercial successes -in the case of the musical biopic), an actor in vogue and made up so that he looks like the person he embodies, and there you have your “winning biopic”. 

Take the example of Bryan Singer’s Bohemian Rhapsody. When it was released in 2018, this biopic by Freddie Mercury hit the box office. Admittedly, Rami Malek brilliantly embodies the iconic singer of Queen (he also won the Oscar for best actor in 2019), but if we scratch a little the Hollywood polish, we find a sweetened scenario that borders on caricature. We erase the rough edges and deliver a « mainstream » version. As a result, Bohemian Rhapsodie is a «nice» film, but above all calibrated to please the greatest number and without real depth. In 2023, the biopic is consecrated, Christopher Nolan offers him the Oscar for best film (among others). So, certainly Oppenheimer is masterfully realized, but he persists in showing, between some great moments of dramatic dialogue, interspersed with pseudo-intimist scenes how the protagonist is a complex and tortured genius. Boring. 

Beyond the predictable aspect, what is really annoying is the absurd number of biopics that are being made. We’re on the verge of an overdose. Since 2022, about fifteen of these films have been released each year and continue to capitalize on popular figures to attract an audience already conquered: Blonde, Elvis, Simone, le voyage du siècle, Iron Claw, Priscilla, One Love, Back to black, Monsieur Aznavour and I spare you everything else… 

And finally, what did we learn about these characters from these films? Not much. Because the biopic is not a real way to explore a life or an era, but rather a formatted product designed to be as smooth and accessible as possible. No need to be creative or original. Why bother to invent new stories when you can just recycle the life of a celebrity? Why build ambitious scenarios when you can bet on nostalgia and public recognition? And the irony is that these films sell as deep and intense works. 

Well, I’m not going to say that all the biopics are lame and superficial. Some films manage to stand out, like Steve Jobs (Boyle, 2015), who in my opinion avoids the linear narrative trap and offers a more daring reflection on his character’s complex personality. But these examples are too rare. 

In the meantime, we will continue to be drowned by these interchangeable films that sell us lives larger than nature, while emptying their subject of its complexity. Because what Hollywood seems to have forgotten is that telling a story is not just about aligning and romancing facts. 

P.S. : I recommend the documentary Il était une fois Michel Legrand, a thousand times more effective to understand without artifice, without wobbly actor-sosie, without reconstitution, nor storyboard trick, who was this genius of music. The real added value of this documentary, in addition to the very relevant testimonies, the multitude of very qualitative images and archive videos, is that the director, David Hertzog-Dessites was able to follow Michel Legrand until the end of his life and during his very last concert in December 2018 (a month before his death). He managed to capture the last gestures of a conductor, real farewells to his audience but also to life. An intense, pure and beautiful emotion that personally, no biopic has ever managed to make me feel. 

Léa Balson 

Pourquoi je n’irai pas Un parfait inconnu 

Depuis quelques années, le biopic est devenu la star incontestée du grand écran. Chaque mois, un nouveau film promet de nous « révéler » l’histoire fascinante d’une icône (chanteuse, sportif, scientifique ou encore personnage politique). Et pourtant, on finit toujours avec un sentiment de déjà-vu.  

Le biopic, c’est toujours une même formule, usée jusqu’à la corde et qu’on déroule paresseusement selon le même schéma : 

  • L’enfance difficile ou un événement traumatique vécu par la future star (directement raconté ou par la présence d’innombrables flash-backs) 
  • La montée en puissance du protagoniste, malgré un parcours difficile et semé d’embûches (souvent incarné par un personnage antagoniste, qui fait partie des courants mainstream et qui essaie de décourager l’étoile montante, genre Hank Snow avec Elvis)  
  • Et finalement, le triomphe (souvent accompagné d’une performance « mythique » ou d’un événement majeur.) 

Ajoutez à cela une BO sympa (qui reprend les plus grands succès commerciaux de l’artiste -dans le cas du biopic musical), un acteur en vogue et maquillé pour qu’il ressemble à s’y méprendre à la personne qu’il incarne, et hop, vous avez votre biopic « à récompenses ». 

Prenons l’exemple de Bohemian Rhapsody de Bryan Singer. A sa sortie en 2018, ce biopic de Freddie Mercury a cartonné au box-office. Certes, Rami Malek incarne avec brio le chanteur iconique de Queen (il a d’ailleurs remporté l’Oscar du meilleur acteur en 2019), mais si on gratte un peu le vernis hollywoodien, on trouve un scénario édulcoré qui frôle la caricature. On gomme les aspérités et on livre une version « grand public ». Résultat, Bohemian Rhapsodie est un film « sympa », mais surtout calibré pour plaire au plus grand nombre et sans réelle profondeur. En 2023, le biopic est consacré, Christopher Nolan lui offre l’Oscar du meilleur film (entre autres). Alors, certes Oppenheimer est magistralement réalisé, mais il persiste à montrer, entre quelques grands moments de dialogue dramatiques, entrecoupés de scènes pseudo-intimistes à quel point le protagoniste est un génie complexe et torturé. Boring. 

Au-delà de l’aspect prévisible, ce qui insupporte, c’est surtout la quantité absurde de biopics qui voient le jour. On frôle l’overdose. Depuis 2022, une quinzaine de ces films sortent chaque année et continuent de capitaliser sur des figures populaires pour attirer un public conquis d’avance : Blonde, Elvis, Simone,Le voyage du siècle, Iron Claw, Priscilla, One Love, Back to black, Monsieur Aznavour et je vous épargne tout le reste… 

Et finalement, qu’avons-nous appris sur ces personnages grâce à ces films ? Pas grand-chose. Parce que le biopic n’est pas un véritable moyen d’explorer une vie ou une époque, mais plutôt un produit formaté, conçu pour être aussi lisse et accessible que possible. 

Plus besoin alors de vouloir être créatif ou original. Pourquoi s’embêter à inventer des histoires nouvelles quand on peut simplement recycler la vie d’une célébrité ? Pourquoi construire des scénarios ambitieux quand on peut miser sur la nostalgie et sur la reconnaissance du public ? Et l’ironie, c’est que ces films se vendent comme des œuvres profondes et intenses.  

Bon tout de même, je ne vais pas dire que tous les biopics sont nuls et superficiels. Quelques films parviennent à sortir du lot, comme Steve Jobs (Boyle, 2015), qui selon moi évite le piège du récit linéaire pour proposer une réflexion plus audacieuse sur la personnalité complexe de son personnage. Mais ces exemples sont trop rares. 

En attendant, on continuera d’être noyés sous ces films interchangeables qui nous vendent des vies plus grandes que nature, tout en vidant leur sujet de sa complexité. Parce qu’au fond, ce qu’Hollywood semble avoir oublié, c’est que raconter une vie, ce n’est pas simplement aligner et romancer des faits. 

Ps : je vous recommande le docu Il était une fois Michel Legrand, mille fois plus efficace pour comprendre sans artifice, sans acteur-sosie bancal, sans reconstitution, ni astuce scénaristique, qui était ce génie de la musique. La réelle plus-value de ce documentaire, outre les témoignages de grande qualité, la multitude de très jolies images et vidéos d’archives, c’est que le réalisateur, David Hertzog-Dessites a pu suivre Michel Legrand jusqu’à la fin de sa vie et durant son tout dernier concert en décembre 2018 (un mois avant sa mort). Il est parvenu à capturer avec justesse les derniers gestes de chef d’orchestre, de véritables adieux faits à son public mais aussi à la vie. Une émotion intense, pure et très belle que personnellement, aucun biopic n’a jamais réussi à me faire ressentir. 

Léa Balson 

Cabaret and the Paradox of Entertainment  

Spectacle vivant,

If you were on TikTok in January, you may have heard of the musical Cabaret. The music “Money Money” from its 1972 movie adaptation was used in hundreds of videos criticizing the American government and its capitalistic tendencies. The song works well with video edits as it talks about living in extreme poverty, and because like most show tunes, it is very dramatic and has a catchy rhythm.  

But Cabaret was also put in the spotlight recently as the Young Theatre company from Kiev did an amazing production of the show.  It really stood out with incredible costumes, a new choreography, and a completely original staging. A lot of extracts promoting the show could be found on TikTok, leaving the musical fans amazed. Under the videos, you could see comments like “OMG, I want to see this live” or “I wish I was there”. Distracted by the beauty of the show, they seem to have forgotten that Ukraine is currently at war.  

What is Cabaret?  

Cabaret was inspired by Christopher Isherwood’s book The Berlin Stories (1945). It is a semi-autobiographic novel where he recounts life as a young American writer living in Berlin from 1929 to 1933. His book was adapted into a play (I Am a Camera, 1951), which itself was adapted into a musical in 1966. The musical was a huge success, winning in 8 categories at the 1967 Tony awards.  

So, What’s the Story?  

We follow American writer Clifford Bradshaw as he arrives in Berlin in 1929. He meets Ernst, who helps him find a place to stay (Fraulein Schneider’s building), and invites him to the Kit Kat Club. At this cabaret, we encounter the Master of ceremonies, a sort of narrator, and Sally Bowles, a dancer which quickly becomes Cliff’s girlfriend. Between performances from the Kit Kat Club, we understand that Ernst has an affair with Cliff and with Sally, and that the political situation is getting tense in Berlin, with the rise of Nazism. This soon becomes a problem as  

Fraulein Schneider is to celebrate her engagement to Herr Schultz a Jewish greengrocer, and Ernst turns out to be a nazi sympathizer.  

The play shows a shocking contrast between real life and the life in the cabaret were you can forget about everything and enjoy showstopping and hilarious performances. But Nazism is growing and catches up to the characters, even those trying so very hard to ignore the problems outside of the Cabaret. The final scene (spoiler) reminds the audience of this in a shocking way:  

The Master of Ceremonies is left all alone on stage, reminiscing the time he worked at the cabaret. He slowly opens his coat, and underneath it, we can see he is wearing a striped prison uniform with a pink triangle on his chest.  

An Unexpected Success for Hollywood 

The popularity of Cabaret motivated Hollywood to turn it into a movie in 1972. But even though the show worked well on Broadway, the movie version of Cabaret should have been a flop. The original director of the movie had been fired and his replacement, Bob Fosse, wasn’t doing well in Hollywood, as his first movie was a huge tank.  

There were also concerns about the main character, Cliff (Brian in the movie), which is openly queer. This shouldn’t be shocking at all as queer life was normalized and even celebrated in 1920s Berlin. In the 1970s USA however, it wasn’t a common thing to depict non heterosexual characters, especially in a good light as the censorship code in cinema had just ended a few years ago. But this new kind of representation is also what motivated Bob Fosse to make the best rendition he could of the story.  

Against all odds, the movie was well received both by the public and critics. It received a total of 8 Oscars including best director and best actress for Liza Minelli (Sally Bowles). The success of Cabaret ultimately led to the comeback of musicals in cinema and allowed for more experimental and excentric musicals such as The Rocky Horror Picture Show to exist.  

Why It Is Still Relevant Today  

« – One of these days I’ve got to sit you down and read you a newspaper, you’d be amazed at what’s going on out there! 

– Ugh, you mean politics! What does that got to do with us!? » 

This extract from a dialogue between Cliff and Sally is a good summary of the message Cabaret tries to convey. Sally is convinced that “life is a cabaret” and that politics could never affect her personally. Like many at the time, she refuses to see how dangerous the small nazi party can be. 

I believe we are seeing a lot of people ignoring politics and inhumane laws being passed because they follow the rule of “well this doesn’t affect me”, a very Matin Brun type of behavior.  

Even the spectators of Cabaret are not immune to this. Recent performances of Cabaret has seen actors themselves begging the audience to pay attention as they were laughing at an antisemitic joke that is made in the show and that is supposed to horrify us. 

The Paradox of Entertainment  

The cabaret is of course a metaphor for everything that distracts us and helps us ignore politics and the dangers that come with it. But art does have the undeniable function of escapism, which can help us go through tough times. I love musicals, but part of what I love is the show, and sometimes I go on TikTok to relax and watch fun videos, not to join a revolution.  

And so shows like Cabaret become the exact distraction they are criticizing bringing us back to the “whish I was in Ukraine” comments. But that is why shows with strong messages are important: they help us stay focused in our escape.  

Just like Cliff looks at German politics from an American point of view, we may feel uneasy and powerless when confronting news about what’s going on in the world. But as Cabaret teaches us, we mustn’t forget to pay attention.  

If you want to watch Cabaret, there is a free quality version on YouTube of Sam Mendes’ production (1993) 

Marie Bédrune  

Cabaret et le paradoxe du divertissement 

Si vous étiez sur TikTok en janvier, vous avez peut-être entendu parler de la comédie musicale Cabaret. La chanson « Money Money » de  l’adaptation cinématographique de 1972 a été utilisée dans des centaines de vidéos critiquant le gouvernement américain et ses tendances capitalistes. Cette chanson marche bien pour les montages vidéo, puisqu’elle parle de la pauvreté extrême et, comme la plupart des airs de comédie musicale, elle est très dramatique et a un rythme entraînant. 

Mais Cabaret a également été mis en lumière récemment grâce au Young Theatre Company de Kiev, qui a produit une version incroyable du spectacle. Elle s’est distinguée par des costumes impressionnants, une nouvelle chorégraphie et une mise en scène totalement originale. De nombreux extraits du spectacle ont circulé sur TikTok, laissant les fans de comédies musicales émerveillés. Sous les vidéos, on pouvait lire des commentaires comme « OMG, je veux voir ça en vrai » ou « J’aimerais tellement y être ». Distraits par la beauté du spectacle, ces spectateurs semblaient avoir oublié que l’Ukraine est actuellement en guerre. 

Cabaret, c’est quoi ? 

Cabaret s’inspire du livre The Berlin Stories (1945) de Christopher Isherwood. Ce roman semi-autobiographique raconte la vie d’un jeune écrivain américain vivant à Berlin de 1929 à 1933. Son livre a été adapté en pièce de théâtre (I Am a Camera, 1951), puis transformé en comédie musicale en 1966. Celle-ci a été un immense succès, remportant huit récompenses aux Tony Awards de 1967. 

Et l’histoire ? 

On suit Clifford Bradshaw, un écrivain américain, qui arrive à Berlin en 1929. Il rencontre Ernst, qui l’aide à trouver un logement (dans l’immeuble de Fraulein Schneider) et l’invite au Kit Kat Club. Dans ce cabaret, nous découvrons le Maître de cérémonie, une sorte de narrateur, ainsi que Sally Bowles, une danseuse qui devient rapidement la petite amie de Cliff. 

Entre les performances du Kit Kat Club, on comprend qu’Ernst est l’amant de Cliff et de Sally, et que la situation politique à Berlin devient tendue avec la montée du nazisme. Cela devient problématique lorsque Fraulein Schneider souhaite célèbrer ses fiançailles avec Herr Schultz, un épicier juif, et qu’Ernst se révèle être un sympathisant nazi. 

La pièce met en contraste de manière frappante la vie réelle, et celle du cabaret, où l’on peut tout oublier et profiter de spectacles grandioses et hilarants. Le nazisme progresse et rattrape les personnages, même ceux qui s’efforcent d’ignorer les problèmes en dehors du cabaret. La scène finale (spoiler) rappelle cela aux spectateurs de manière brutale : le Maître de cérémonie se retrouve seul sur scène, et se remémore son travail au cabaret. Il ouvre lentement son manteau, et on voit qu’il porte un uniforme de prisonnier rayé avec un triangle rose sur la poitrine. 

Un succès inattendu à Hollywood 

Le succès de Cabaret a motivé Hollywood à en faire un film en 1972. Pourtant, malgré son triomphe à Broadway, la version cinématographique aurait pu être un échec. Le réalisateur initial du film avait été renvoyé, et son remplaçant, Bob Fosse, traversait une période difficile à Hollywood après l’échec cuisant de son premier film, Sweet Charity. 

Il y avait également des inquiétudes concernant le personnage principal, Cliff (Brian dans le film), qui est ouvertement queer. Cela ne devrait pas être choquant, car la vie queer était normalisée et même célébrée dans le Berlin des années 1920. Cependant, dans l’Amérique des années 1970, il était encore rare de représenter des personnages non hétérosexuels, surtout de manière positive, le code de censure cinématographique venant tout juste d’être arrêté. Mais c’est précisément cette nouvelle forme de représentation qui a poussé Bob Fosse à offrir la meilleure adaptation possible de cette histoire. 

Contre toute attente, le film a été bien accueilli par le public et la critique. Il a remporté huit Oscars, dont celui du meilleur réalisateur et de la meilleure actrice pour Liza Minnelli (Sally Bowles). Le succès de Cabaret a finalement marqué le retour des comédies musicales au cinéma et a ouvert la voie à des films plus expérimentaux et excentriques comme The Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

Pourquoi Cabaret reste pertinent aujourd’hui 

« – Un de ces jours, il faudra que je te fasse lire un journal. Tu serais étonnée de ce qui se passe dehors ! » 

– Oh, la politique, tu veux dire ! Qu’est-ce que ça a à voir avec nous ?! » 

Cet échange entre Cliff et Sally résume bien le message que veut faire passer Cabaret. Sally est convaincue que « la vie est un cabaret » et que la politique ne l’affectera jamais personnellement. Comme beaucoup à l’époque, elle refuse de voir à quel point le petit parti nazi peut être dangereux. 

Aujourd’hui encore, beaucoup de personnes ignorent la politique et la mise en place de lois inhumaines, en suivant la règle du « ça ne m’affecte pas vraiment », style Matin Brun. Même les spectateurs de Cabaret ne sont pas à l’abri de cette indifférence. Lors de récentes représentations, des acteurs ont dû supplier le public de prêter attention, car certaines personnes riaient à une blague antisémite écrite pour horrifier le public. 

Le paradoxe du divertissement 

Le cabaret est bien sûr une métaphore de tout ce qui nous distrait et nous pousse à ignorer la politique et les dangers qu’elle peut engendrer. Mais l’art a aussi une fonction indéniable d’évasion, qui nous aide à traverser des périodes difficiles. J’aime les comédies musicales, mais ce que j’aime aussi, c’est le spectacle en lui-même. Et parfois, je vais sur TikTok pour me détendre et regarder des vidéos drôles, pas pour rejoindre une révolution. 

C’est ainsi que des spectacles comme Cabaret deviennent la distraction exacte qu’ils dénoncent, ce qui nous ramène aux commentaires du type « J’aimerais être en Ukraine ». Mais c’est aussi pour cette raison que les œuvres aux messages forts sont importantes : elles nous aident à rester concentrés même dans l’évasion. 

Tout comme Cliff observe la politique allemande avec un regard extérieur d’Américain, nous pouvons nous sentir impuissants face aux nouvelles du monde. Mais comme Cabaret nous l’enseigne, il faut toujours rester alerte. 

Si vous souhaitez voir Cabaret, il existe une version gratuite et de bonne qualité de la production de Sam Mendes (1993) sur YouTube. 

Marie Bédrune  

An example of the theme of the article

From the Laboratory to the Public Sphere: BioArt’s Multidimensional Landscape

Arts visuels, , , , ,

Contemporary BioArt, fueled by gene editing (e.g., CRISPR/Cas9), synthetic biology,
microbial manipulation, data science, and AI algorithms, transforms the laboratory into a
creative arena (Reichle, 2009; Mitchell, 2010). Liberated from static media constraints, art
now revolves around dynamic, evolving life processes. Artworks emerge not solely from
human creators but through an interplay of microbes, algorithms, environments, and
audiences. This shift reshapes aesthetic logic and incites profound debates in philosophical,
ethical, social, and ecological dimensions.

Philosophical and Theoretical Background: Materializing Posthumanism and Biopolitics

Posthumanist theory (Donna Haraway, A Cyborg Manifesto, 1991; Rosi Braidotti, The
Posthuman, 2013) urges us to reexamine life and value in multispecies, multi-actor networks,
rejecting human exceptionalism. In BioArt, gene editing and cell cultivation place nonhuman
life forms (fungi, microbes) and technological systems (sensors, algorithms) into the creative
process. Abstract posthumanist ideals thus materialize: viewers must consider fungal growth,
microbial metabolism, and algorithmic decisions, rather than focusing solely on human intent.


Meanwhile, biopolitics (Foucault; Agamben) addresses life’s governance and distribution.
BioArt’s manipulation of genetic resources and microbial ecologies provides a sensory entry
point into these power dynamics. Exhibitions can present genetic patent clauses,
environmental movement cases, and expert interviews, transforming “biopolitics” from a
scholarly term into a tangible problem scenario. Audiences recognize that beyond artistic
novelty lie economic and political forces shaping life itself.

Case Analysis: From Individual Spectacle to Systemic Perspectives

Early bio-artists often carried the aura of mad scientists, with many of their works delivering
a powerful and provocative impact. Early BioArt milestones like Eduardo Kac’s GFP Bunny
(2000), which introduced a fluorescent gene into a rabbit, triggered public fascination an
anxiety over biotech’s aesthetic and moral stakes. Without deeper interpretation, such works
risk trivialization as mere spectacle. By contextualizing their techno-social backgrounds,
audiences perceive not just novel visuals but prompts to question genetic authority and
public understanding.

Illustration of BioArt
Eduardo Kac, GFP Bunny, 2000

Oron Catts and Ionat Zurr are pioneers of bio-art, they established Tissue Culture & Art
(TC&A) in 1996, renowned for their bold explorations of the definition and control of life.
Their early work, Semi-Living Worry Dolls, used tissue culture techniques to “grow” semi-living dolls composed of living cells and biological scaffolds, blurring the boundaries between
life and non-life. The piece, both visually striking and deeply unsettling, sparked intense
debates about ethics, the commodification of life, and humanity’s power to manipulate
nature, cementing its place as a landmark in the intersection of science and art.

Illustration of BioArt
The Tissue Culture & Art Project (Oron Catts & Ionat Zurr),
The Semi-Living Worry Dolls, 2000

Recent BioArt endeavors embrace more systemic thinking. Some artists employ GANs and
evolutionary algorithms to model microbial communities, adjusting conditions via
environmental sensor data. This surpasses isolated ethical shocks, highlighting information
asymmetry, resource inequities, and potential regulatory voids. Instead of a single-level moral
dilemma, viewers confront a vast socio-ecological framework.

Anna Dumitriu is an internationally renowned bio-artist known for integrating cutting-edge
scientific technologies with artistic expression. Her work delves into fields such
microbiology, antibiotic resistance, synthetic biology, gene editing (including CRISPR), and
artificial intelligence, often in collaboration with scientists to transform the latest research
into works that are both academic and artistic. Her notable works include The Bacterial
Sublime and Make Do and Mend, which explore the microscopic world of bacterial
communities and the history of antibiotic resistance, respectively. In Engineered Antibody,
she presents the artistic potential of gene editing, while her AI-based projects analyze
biological data to investigate the boundaries between nature and the artificial.

Beyond the West, other cultural contexts reinforce BioArt’s global dimension. Mexican artist
Gilberto Esparza’s Plantas Nómadas couples microbial fuel cells and plants to address
environmental pollution and resource control. Chinese artist Zheng Bo, though not always
using gene editing, integrates plant ecologies into artistic inquiry, linking human-nature
relations to subtle political and cultural narratives. These cases show that BioArt can engage
agricultural traditions, local biodiversity, and communal knowledge, demonstrating that life
politics and resource challenges transcend Western settings.

Illustration of BioArt
Zheng Bo, The Pleasure of Slowness, 2023

Controversies and Multiple Perspectives: Balancing Knowledge, Property, and Public Attitudes

BioArt’s controversies span multiple levels:

  • Scientists fear insufficient experimental rigor and potential public misunderstanding. Artists
    seek to democratize knowledge production, challenging scientific hegemony. Exhibitions
    that present scientific critiques alongside artistic visions highlight that knowledge
    frameworks are not neutral.
  • Gene patents and bioproperty raise moral and legal dilemmas: is artistic use legitimate and
    ethical? Might audiences be nudged toward irrational biotech admiration? By juxtaposing
    legal texts, industry data, and artist testimonies, viewers gauge how art subtly influences
    public sentiment.
  • Environmental groups protesting an exhibition for implying bioresource misuse exemplify art
    as a catalyst of public concern. Instead of neutral objects, artworks become arenas of
    contested values. This reveals how BioArt spotlights moral boundaries and engenders
    societal reflection on technological incursions into life.
Illustration of BioArt
Left: Victimless Leather– A Prototype of Stitch-less Jacket grown in a Technoscientifi “Body”, 2004.
Right: Nutrient Bug1.0: Stir Fly, in collaboration with Robert Foster, 2016. The Tissue Culture & Art (Oron Catts & Ionat Zurr)

Ecological Dimensions and Capitalist Logic: Sensory Bridges to Grand Narratives

Transgenic plants, fungal installations, and microbial ecosystems metaphorize global
ecological crises and capitalist monopolies over genetic resources. Curators can use data
visualization and storytelling, turning policy debates into sensory scenes. Observing microbial
imbalances, viewers sense how capital molds environments. Such experiential translation is
deliberate, connecting personal encounter with larger ecological-political discourses.

Exhibition Mechanisms, Education, and Public Participation: From Passive Reception to Collaborative Insight

BioArt exhibitions demand careful technical arrangements and interdisciplinary collaboration.
Microscopic observation points, data interfaces, and workshops let audiences attempt
microbial cultivation or data analysis. Participation enhances scientific and ethical literacy
turning exhibitions into collective inquiry forums. Instead of passive consumption, viewers
become knowledge co-producers, enriching public debate on gene editing, biosafety, and
environmental governance.

Illustration of BioArt
Liang Shaoji, The 8 Puzzle (right), Making Squares into Circles and Circles into Squares (left), Two groups of projects presenting the action of silkworms spitting silk with artificial
intervention – Photo by Ziyin ZHANG

Redefining Subjectivity and Creative Logic: A Bio-Tech-Human Nexus

In BioArt, outcomes emerge from microbial proliferation, environmental fluctuations
algorithmic judgments, and audience input—not solely from the artist’s will. This distributed
subjectivity enacts posthumanist ideals, positioning artworks as relational nodes rather than
isolated objects. Recognizing this collaborative ecosystem offers a cultural reference fo
future art-tech experiments that acknowledge nonhuman agencies.

Illustration of BioArt
Thomas Feuerstein, PANCREAS, 2012. He decomposed the cellulose of books or paper into
glucose, which was used to cultivate human brain cells in a glass reactor.

Future Directions and Practical Strategies: Ecological Accountability and Governance Structures

As CRISPR and gene drive technologies mature, BioArt could affect ecosystems on a grand
scale, risking irreversible environmental impacts. Focus should shift from technical details to
social and ecological accountability. Involving environmental NGOs, policymakers, and
scientists in exhibition dialogues exposes audiences to multiple stances and impending
responsibilities. International agreements, professional guidelines, and public consultations
ensure that innovation remains transparent and answerable.

Public education is crucial. Establishing BioArt public labs—offering free workshops and
immersive sessions—lets citizens grasp basic biotech principles, enabling them to critically
assess bioresource patents, GMO crops, and environmental policies. Such initiatives turn art
venues into educational platforms for the biotech era, fortifying public judgment and
empowerment.

Frontier Topics and Cross-Sectoral Expansion: Diverse Information and Immersion

CRISPR-based genomic refinements, GAN-driven microbial simulations, blockchain-mediated gene usage tracking, and VR/AR immersions reflect BioArt’s expanding frontiers. Curators can provide supplementary readings, thematic symposia, and VR installations, offering multiple information sources. In VR environments, visitors “enter” cellular worlds adjust microbial growth conditions, and observe algorithmic forecasts, rendering abstract concepts tangible and experiential.

Illustration of BioArt
Linda Dement and Laura Splan in collaboration with the Cardiovascular Regeneration Group at UTS, Bloom, 2024

Indonesian collective Lifepatch integrates DIY bioexperimentation with local ecological and
community practices. Their approach merges bioartistic inquiry with agricultural traditions
and environmental challenges, exemplifying how BioArt, in diverse cultural contexts,
reinterprets life politics and resource control beyond Western paradigms.

Illustration of BioArt
Lifepatch, Hackteria Lab workshop, 2014

Humility, Responsibility, and Value Reassessment: Guarding Against Techno-Utopianism

While embracing the synergy of art and technology, one must resist naive techno-utopian
visions. Emphasizing humility, introspection, and responsibility is essential. When life is
artistic material, innovation carries risks and reorders power. Incorporating philosophical,
ethical, and social science voices in exhibitions and critical essays prevents art from
becoming a tool for capital-driven spectacle or unchecked tech worship. Balanced vigilance
ensures that beneath aesthetic allure lies awareness and critical thought.

Conclusion and Outlook: Revisiting Core Threads and Future Inspirations

BioArt’s significance lies in posing deeper, more complex questions rather than offer
simplistic resolutions.

By comparing early and recent cases, highlighting multifaceted controversies, and proposing
concrete measures, the dynamic evolution of BioArt’s knowledge-value network comes into
focus. Immersive technologies, public labs, and multi-viewpoint exhibition sections empower
audiences to form independent judgments amid conflicting narratives.

BioArt goes beyond merely applauding or condemning technology, serving instead as a public
forum where life, technology, and aesthetics intersect. With clarified thematic threads, more
coherent case analyses, and tangible action recommendations, BioArt exhibitions transcend
spectacle, evolving into laboratories of societal inquiry, challenging our understanding of
existence, responsibility, and future destinies in an era of perpetual flux.

Ziyin Zhang

Boualem Sansal Imprisoned: Freedom of Expression Under Scrutiny 

Non classé

« When a writer claims a country is a dictatorship and is imprisoned for it, it clearly proves he was right. » These were the words of French author Emmanuel Carrère on Thursday, December 5, 2024, during his appearance on the literary program La Grande Librairie on France 5. He was defending his friend Boualem Sansal, 75, who was arrested in Algiers on November 16 and has been imprisoned since. 

The Franco-Algerian writer, widely known for his book 2084: The End of the World, which won the French Academy Novel Prize in 2013, is highly regarded for his unwavering commitment to denouncing power abuses in Algeria. His criticism of authoritarian regimes has made him a prime target in his home country, where the repression of dissenting voices has intensified. 
Indeed, tensions between France and Algeria have escalated following the publication of Houris, the 2024 Goncourt Prize winner. Its author, Kamel Daoud, has been barred from returning to Algeria due to his novel recounting the Black Decade, the brutal Algerian civil war that ravaged the country from 1992 to 2012. Since the scandal surrounding the ban on his novel’s publication in Algeria and the exclusion of Gallimard, his publisher, from the Algiers Book Fair, Kamel Daoud has spoken out against the pressures and threats he faces.

These two literary events highlight not only the ongoing necessity of defending freedom of expression beyond France’s borders but also the persistent geopolitical tensions between France and Algeria. 
One major factor fueling these renewed tensions is France’s decision in July to recognize Morocco’s sovereignty over Western Sahara. This announcement provoked outrage from the Algerian regime. On July 26, 2024, Algeria’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a statement containing thinly veiled threats: “The Algerian government will draw all the consequences of this French decision, for which the French government bears sole and full responsibility.” 

Regarding Boualem Sansal’s imprisonment, Le Monde reports that his arrest may be linked to comments he made in the far-right media outlet Frontières, where he claimed that Moroccan territory was carved out in favor of Algeria under French colonization. This controversial stance aligns with his literary trajectory of consistently criticizing the Algerian regime. Sansal frequently explores themes of corruption, authoritarianism, and religious extremism in Algeria in his works. In 2006, he penned an op-ed in Le Figaro decrying the regime’s grip on society: « Algeria has become a laboratory of totalitarianism, where fear reigns supreme. » However, his recent support for Morocco appears to have crossed a red line for the Algerian government, which now accuses him of undermining national unity. 

Gallimard, the publisher of Boualem Sansal’s works since the release of Le Serment des Barbares—a book that sparked debate 25 years ago—has expressed deep concern following his arrest by Algerian security forces. The publishing house has called for his immediate release. 

Since the re-election of Abdelmadjid Tebboune, 79, who has served as Algerian president since 2019 and was re-elected with 95% of the vote, the arrest of writers by the regime is sadly not unprecedented. 
Shortly before this election, Amnesty International warned of « a continued erosion of human rights through the authorities’ dissolution of political parties, civil society organizations, and independent media, as well as a growing number of arbitrary arrests and prosecutions based on trumped-up terrorism charges. » 

This imprisonment raises a fundamental question: that of freedom. Freedom, first, for Boualem Sansal to be released from prison, but also—and more broadly—freedom of expression. In Algeria, laws restricting free speech are in force, including one prohibiting mention of the Black Decade, a central theme in Kamel Daoud’s novel. Moreover, some writers addressing « indecent content »—such as sexual and gender diversity and homosexuality—remain behind bars to this day. 

Freedom of expression should transcend borders and political divides. Yet, in France, certain political factions, particularly on the left and far left, have criticized Boualem Sansal for expressing his views in a far-right media outlet, denouncing what they perceive as a political hijacking of his statements. These differing opinions underscore the tensions surrounding this fundamental right, even in democracies. 
Nonetheless, freedom of expression has been won over decades of struggle and landmark trials. Iconic examples abound, from Gustave Flaubert’s historic trial for Madame Bovary, accused of immorality, to far more recent threats, such as the attack on Salman Rushdie in New York over his Satanic Verses. These episodes are reminders that defending this right remains a constant battle against various forms of censorship and violence. 

Today, the literary world has rallied in a tribute published by Le Point. Nobel laureates Annie Ernaux, Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio, Orhan Pamuk, and Wole Soyinka, as well as Salman Rushdie, Peter Sloterdijk, Andrey Kurkov, Roberto Saviano, Giuliano da Empoli, and Alaa el Aswany, have demanded Sansal’s release in a text written by Kamel Daoud: « We cannot remain silent. This concerns freedom, the right to culture, and our own lives as writers targeted by this terror. I urgently call for international solidarity: let us demand the immediate release of Boualem Sansal and all writers imprisoned for their ideas. » 

Despite these appeals, Boualem Sansal’s fate remains uncertain. His lawyer has yet to access the case file and does not know the exact charges against the writer. Unwillingly, Sansal finds himself entangled in a web of passion and vengeance between France and Algeria, becoming a scapegoat in a volatile bilateral relationship. He faces the grim prospect of spending the rest of his life in prison.

Judith Waterlot 

Boualem Sansal en prison :  La liberté d’expression en question  

« Quand un écrivain écrit qu’un pays est une dictature et qu’il est mis en prison pour ça, ça prouve bel et bien qu’il avait raison ». Voilà ce que l’auteur français Emmanuel Carrère a dit le jeudi 5 décembre 2024 lors de sa prise de parole sur l’émission littéraire La Grande Librairie sur France 5 pour défendre son ami Boualem Sansal, 75 ans, arrêté à Alger le 16 novembre et emprisonné depuis.  

L’écrivain franco-algérien, connu du grand public pour son livre 2084 : la fin du monde récompensé par le prix du roman de l’Académie française en 2013, jouit d’une véritable reconnaissance dans son milieu pour son engagement constant à dénoncer les abus de pouvoir en Algérie. Sa critique des régimes autoritaires a fait de lui une cible privilégiée dans son pays d’origine où la répression des voix dissidentes s’intensifie.  

En effet les tensions entre la France et l’Algérie se sont intensifiées depuis la publication de Houris, lauréat 2024 du Prix Goncourt. Son auteur, Kamel Daoud est interdit de retourner dans son pays à cause de son roman racontant la décennie noire, terrible guerre civile algérienne qui a ravagé le pays pendant dix ans, entre 1992 et 2012. Depuis le scandale lié à l’interdiction de la publication de son roman en Algérie, ainsi qu’à l’exclusion de sa maison d’édition Gallimard du Salon du Livre d’Alger, Kamel Daoud a pris la parole pour dénoncer les pressions et les menaces auxquelles il est confronté.

Ces deux événements littéraires illustrent non seulement la nécessité de continuer à défendre la liberté d’expression au-delà des frontières françaises, mais révèlent également les tensions géopolitiques persistantes entre la France et l’Algérie. 

Parmi les principales causes de ce regain de tensions figure la décision de la France, en juillet dernier, de reconnaître la souveraineté marocaine sur le Sahara occidental. Cette annonce a suscité l’indignation du régime algérien. Le 26 juillet 2024, le ministère algérien des Affaires étrangères a publié un communiqué contenant des menaces à peine voilées : « Le gouvernement algérien tirera toutes les conséquences qui découlent de cette décision française et dont le gouvernement français assume seul la pleine et entière responsabilité. » 

Concernant l’emprisonnement de Boualem Sansal, Le Monde rapporte que son arrestation pourrait être liée à ses déclarations au média d’extrême droite Frontières, où il a affirmé que le territoire marocain aurait été amputé au profit de l’Algérie sous la colonisation française. Cette position controversée s’inscrit dans un parcours littéraire marqué par une critique récurrente du régime algérien. L’écrivain explore fréquemment dans ses œuvres les thèmes de la corruption, de l’autoritarisme et des dérives religieuses en Algérie. En 2006, il publiait dans Le Figaro une tribune dénonçant la mainmise du régime sur la société : « L’Algérie est devenue un laboratoire du totalitarisme, où la peur règne en maître. » Cependant, sa récente prise de position en faveur du Maroc semble avoir franchi une ligne rouge pour le gouvernement algérien, qui l’accuse désormais de porter atteinte à l’intégrité nationale. 

La maison d’édition Gallimard, éditeur des œuvres de Boualem Sansal depuis la parution du Serment des barbares qui avait déjà fait débat il y a vingt-cinq ans, exprime leur très vive inquiétude à la suite de l’arrestation de l’écrivain par les services de sécurité algériens et appellent à la libération immédiate de celui-ci. 

Depuis la réélection d’Abdelmadjid Tebboune, 79 ans, président algérien en poste depuis 2019 et réélu avec 95 % des suffrages exprimés, l’arrestation d’écrivains par le régime n’est malheureusement pas un fait inédit. 

Peu avant cette échéance électorale, l’association Amnesty International dénonçait « une érosion continue des droits humains à travers la dissolution par les autorités de partis politiques, d’organisations de la société civile et de médias indépendants, ainsi que la multiplication d’arrestations et de poursuites arbitraires fondées sur des accusations de terrorisme forgées de toutes pièces » 

Cet emprisonnement soulève une question essentielle : celle de la liberté. La liberté d’abord pour Boualem Sansal d’être libéré de prison mais aussi et surtout la liberté d’expression. En Algérie, des lois limitant la liberté d’expression sont en vigueur, notamment une interdisant l’évocation de la décennie noire mise en avant dans le roman de Kamel Daoud. Par ailleurs, certains écrivains évoquant du contenu « contraire à la décence » (sur la diversité sexuelle et de genre et sur l’homosexualité) sont aujourd’hui toujours retenus en prison. 

La liberté d’expression ne devrait connaître ni frontières ni clivages politiques. Pourtant, certains courants politiques, notamment à gauche et à l’extrême gauche en France, critiquent Boualem Sansal pour avoir exprimé ses idées dans un média d’extrême droite, dénonçant au passage une récupération politique de ses propos. Ces divergences d’opinion mettent en lumière les tensions que suscite ce droit fondamental, même dans les démocraties. 

Pourtant, cette liberté d’expression a été conquise au fil des décennies grâce à de nombreux combats et procès. Des exemples emblématiques jalonnent l’histoire, à commencer par le procès historique de Gustave Flaubert pour Madame Bovary, accusé d’immoralité, jusqu’à des menaces bien plus récentes, comme l’agression de Salman Rushdie à New York en raison de ses Versets Sataniques. Ces épisodes rappellent que défendre ce droit reste une lutte constante, face à des formes variées de censure et de violence. 

Aujourd’hui, c’est toute la sphère littéraire qui s’est agitée dans une tribune relayée par Le Point. Les prix Nobel Annie Ernaux, Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio, Orhan Pamuk et Wole Soyinka, ainsi que Salman Rushdie, Peter Sloterdijk, Andreï Kourkov, Roberto Saviano, Giuliano da Empoli et Alaa el Aswany, ont demandé sa libération, dans un texte rédigé par Kamel Daoud : « Nous ne pouvons pas rester silencieux. Il y va de la liberté, du droit à la culture et de nos vies à nous, écrivains ciblés par cette terreur. Je lance un appel urgent à la solidarité internationale : exigeons la libération immédiate de Boualem Sansal et de tous les écrivains emprisonnés pour leurs idées ». 

Cependant, malgré ces soutiens, le sort de Boualem Sansal demeure incertain. Aujourd’hui l’avocat de Boualem Sansal n’a pas eu accès au dossier et ne sait pas exactement pour quels chefs d’accusation l’écrivain est poursuivi. Boualem Sansal est inscrit sans le vouloir dans une logique de passion et de vengeance entre la France et l’Algérie dans laquelle il est devenu le bouc émissaire d’une relation bilatérale en feu. Il risque de finir le reste de sa vie en prison.  

Judith Waterlot

Onlooker at exhibition by Nida KAMAL

The Work of Art: A Singularity that Resists the Logic of Profitability 

Réflexions, , , ,
Illustration de l'article
Onlooker at, REMEMBER TO FORGET exhbition BY MAME DIARRA, at Henri Cartier Bresson Foundation – Nida Kamal

In a society where everything seems calibrated to maximize profitability, the work of art stands out for its unique nature and its refusal to be reduced to a mere product. While industries push for standardization and mass production, art runs counter to this trend. It offers a singular vision, an irreproducible creative gesture, and a value that transcends economic calculations. But how does this artistic uniqueness endure in an era dominated by profit-driven logic? 

Let’s delve into this reflection, where art asserts itself as a space of resistance against widespread commodification. 

Intrinsic Uniqueness Defying Standardization 

Unlike a product designed to meet specific and often universal needs, a work of art is born from a deeply personal intention. Every artist expresses, through their work, a unique vision shaped by their experiences, emotions, and imagination. This subjectivity gives art its intrinsic value, impossible to standardize. 

Take, for example, Banksy, the world-renowned street artist. His works, often ephemeral and contextual, lose some of their impact when transformed into consumer items—posters, t-shirts, or mugs. This disconnect highlights how the essence of a work diminishes when inserted into a mass production logic. 

A Direct Opposition to Economic Logic 

In an economic system where everything must generate a return on investment, art seems to be an anomaly. A work of art does not adhere to the same criteria as a conventional product. It is not created to be profitable or even to please a predefined audience. Its purpose lies elsewhere: to evoke emotion, tell a story, or provoke reflection on universal themes. 

Consider contemporary art, often criticized for its commodification. Some argue that pieces like Jeff Koons’ Balloon Dog, sold for astronomical sums, exemplify an excessive commercialization of art. Yet even in these cases, the work retains an artistic intention that surpasses its mere monetary value. 

The Danger of Mass Reproduction 

In a world where images circulate without limits and objects multiply infinitely, art risks losing its uniqueness when reduced to mere reproduction. A painting like Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night, for instance, is reproduced on hundreds of thousands of products: posters, cushions, phone cases. While this democratizes access to art, it can also dilute its essence and depth. 

Illustration of a Van Gogh exhibition
Onlookers at Immersive Van Gogh Experience – Nida Kamal

However, this reproducibility has its limits. Walter Benjamin, in his essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, emphasized that a work’s “aura”—its uniqueness and authenticity—cannot be captured by a copy. The original remains inimitable precisely because it bears witness to a unique moment of creation. 

Art as a Refusal of Planned Obsolescence 

In an era marked by increasingly short consumption cycles, where products quickly become obsolete, art exists in a different timeline. A work does not follow trends; it transcends them, standing as timeless. This is why creations from centuries ago continue to captivate. 

Consider Michelangelo’s sculptures or Rembrandt’s paintings. These works, despite the passage of time, continue to fascinate and inspire. They escape the logic of rapid consumption, embodying a permanence that defies societal norms. 

A Unique Experience for Every Viewer 

Another essential dimension of art’s uniqueness lies in its interaction with the viewer. Unlike a product designed for a specific function, a work of art invites interpretation. It is never received uniformly; every individual projects their emotions, history, and perspective onto it. 

Take Pablo Picasso’s Guernica. Some see it as a poignant denunciation of war, while others interpret it as a universal cry of despair. This capacity to provoke different responses makes each artistic experience unique, something no standardized product can offer. 

Photo of the painting Guernica by Picasso to illustrate the text
GUERNICA by Picasso – Nida Kamal

The Commodification of Art: A Blurred Line 

Despite its uniqueness, art is not immune to commodification. Galleries, museums, and collectors sometimes transform art into a luxury product, contributing to the blurring of boundaries between work and object. In this context, NFTs (Non-Fungible Tokens) have introduced a new dynamic: they guarantee the uniqueness of digital works while embedding them in a financial logic. 

This financialization of art raises questions. On one hand, it allows artists to be compensated and recognized for their work. On the other hand, it risks reducing creation to a mere monetary value. 

The Independent Artist: Authentic Resistance 

In response to this tension between art and profitability, many artists choose to distance themselves from traditional commercial circuits. Through social media and digital platforms, they share their work directly with their audience, bypassing intermediaries. This allows them to preserve the integrity and uniqueness of their work. 

Artists like JR or Ai Weiwei, for example, use innovative methods to disseminate their messages. By breaking free from traditional structures, they demonstrate that art can remain a space of freedom and resistance against market-driven logic. 

The Work of Art: A Bastion Against Uniformity 

In a world obsessed with productivity, art reminds us that there are values beyond economic logic. A work of art cannot be reduced to a product. It is an experience, an emotion, a reflection. Its uniqueness lies in its very essence: a blend of intention, creativity, and authenticity. 

Graffitii in the streets of Nantes, to illustrate the text
Graffitii around Nantes – Nida Kamal

Far from conforming to the rules of profitability, art continues to exist as a space for free and profoundly human expression. In a society that standardizes everything, it invites us to celebrate what is rare, singular, and irreplaceable. 

Guillem Vidal

A24 and the quick rise of a distributor that still has a lot to prove 

Cinéma / TV, , , ,

The American company A24 has become a key player of the independent film scene thanks to strong artistic choices. However, the distributor still has many challenges awaiting.

The first successes of a recent distributor 

Founded in 2012, the main purpose of A24 was to distribute independent films in theaters so they could meet their audience – which is the role of a classical distributor. The company had from the outset a strong slate of films directed by prestigious “auteurs” such as Sofia Coppola with The Bling Ring, Enemy by Denis Villeneuve or even Jonathan Glazer’s Under the skin. This enabled A24 to adopt an approach favoring low-budget independent films with a strong artistic identity, while they also met commercial success at the box-office with titles like Spring Breakers or even Ex machina in their early days. 

Additionally, an important part of A24’s identity as a distributor is that they campaign for their films during the “award season” that happens at the end of each year until the Oscars take place. When Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight won the Academy Award for Best Picture against all odds in 2017, it further consolidated the power of A24 as a distributor, and a co-producer from this point. The company’s rise to fame has been quick, thanks to bold film choices and a strong marketing strategy appealing to a younger generation of cinephiles. 

More than a company, an aesthetic 

After more than 10 years of existence, A24 has exceeded its role as a distributor and established itself as a brand with a singular identity. Online communities have adopted the term ‘A24 vibes’ to point out a set of distinctive characteristics their films often have. It usually refers to dramatic or horror films with an original artistic perspective in terms of storytelling and setting, a beautiful cinematography with an overall profound message. 

We could also consider that the company has a kind of ‘fanbase’, which is a first for such a recent distributor. They sell merch (caps, tote bags, pins, books…) related not only to the films they put in theaters, but that is also only branded with the A24 logo itself. This goes to an extent that it sometimes erases the existence of directors and creative teams behind films, as some can be perceived as merely ‘A24 films’. While it may be an issue, it also shows that the distributor has done a great deal at curating their film slate, up to the point where an identity has emerged – enabling the audiences to identify their films. 

However, while A24 excels in marketing and editorial choices, some people argue that they are failing in their original mission. When it comes to distributing, many note that their films are not available for a long time in theaters, especially to those who live in smaller cities, creating a gap in accessibility. Moreover, they focus heavily on American films and offer a very low number of international long-features to audiences. This might just be an integral part of their strategy and identity, but other indie distributors such as NEON are able to be successful with a more diverse slate.   

Movies that struggle to land on the French market 

While their global online presence is strong and foster a lot of engagement on social media, the films A24 produce tend to struggle to cross physical borders, especially in France. There are many reasons for it, mostly driven by the fact that they mostly address an American audience, with specific themes, actors and a cultural context that mainly make their films relevant on a local market. But isn’t the goal of cinema to transcend borders and deliver universal messages? Especially in France, one of the biggest film economies in the world? 

The main issue with the distribution of A24-produced films in France is that they are not easily accessible to the audience, and when they are, they fail to meet critical success. French distributors have often said that these films are expensive because the American company sell them at a high price, so this represents an important investment and risk for most of them. 

Some of the films that reached the French market managed to fare well: Moonlight attracted 560 000 theatergoers in 2017, half of which even before its historic Oscar night and more recently, Danny and Michael Philippou’s horror film Talk to me intrigued 515 000 people. However, such successes are rare and many of their films end up being box-office disappointments even when they seemed promising. This is the case of The Iron Claw, a sports drama that didn’t cross the 100 000 theater-goers bar or even Everything Everywhere All At Once. It was a huge success in the US but struggled to get a distributor in France, and while it attracted 350 000 people, this is a bit disappointing considering the critical and domestic commercial success it encountered as it won 7 Oscars and is A24’s highest-grossing film. 

So, what’s next? 

While the company’s international future is uncertain, there is no doubt that A24 will pursue their domestic efforts in hopes of expanding their audience. This will involve continuing to co-produce the films they distribute, which is something they’ve been doing since the 2020s, and thus offering a slate of long-features that can appeal to more people other than the usual indie-lovers cinephiles. To do so, the firm aims at intensifying its efforts in the production of mid-budget movies like they did this year with Civil War. Their scheduled films for the next few years include Alex Garland’s Warfare and Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine, the latter being reported with a budget of $70 million, the most for a film ever produced by the studio. As the film industry is going through many changes, involving indie productions and blockbusters alike, it will be interesting to see how the company will be able to navigate these shifts after rapidly establishing itself as a leader in the independent landscape. 

Andréa Tchiyep

The Art of Breaking Down Style Barriers and Rethinking Dance – Upcoming shows to See

Spectacle vivant, , , ,

Dance is often perceived as an art divided into various styles, each one with its own particularities: an attitude, a technique, a costume, a type of music, etc. Each style is a universe with its own codes. For example, ballet is seen as the reference in terms of discipline and technique; contemporary dance is perceived as a more deconstructed style, based on the dancer’s feelings and emotions; hip-hop is dynamic with sharp accents and body isolations. Each dance style is often attributed to a category, and we have specific expectations as a result. However, reality is quite different from this theoretical and compartmentalized view of dance. Every dancer develops his own style, and I wanted to recommend some performances that illustrate the breaking down of these style barriers, encouraging us to rethink dance.

Stories – RB Dance Company

The first performance I would like to highlight is called Stories. It was created by the RB Dance Company, a dance group founded in 2018 and revealed on the French TV show La France a un incroyable talent. This is an urban tap dance performance, directed by the talented Romain Rachline Bourgeaud, who offers us a modern and ambitious staging reminiscent of the greatest Broadway shows. Tap dance has long been considered « outdated, » but this performance, which has attracted over 100,000 spectators in France and internationally, renew the style by offering a new approach. The choreographer explains his desire to create a mix between movement and the sound of tap shoes used as a musical instrument to emphasize the key moments of the music. What stands out in this performance is the precision and contagious energy of the dancers who make the stage resonate beneath their feet. This modern show brings tap dance up to date and breaks down style barriers by blending urban jazz, tap, and percussion. The company will be on its final tour in 2024-2025, so be sure to check it out!

Storie’s show: https://www.rbdancecompany.com/stories

The Nutcracker – Blanca Li

The second performance also illustrates the breakdown of style barriers by inviting the audience to rediscover a classic masterpiece through another style. This is the ballet The Nutcracker, reimagined by Spanish dancer and choreographer Blanca Li, who has been recently nominated president of the Grande Halle de la Villette. She offers the audience a chance to rediscover the famous story of The Nutcracker in a hip-hop version. This is a real challenge to modernize this masterpiece without distorting it. She reinterprets the story of The Nutcracker by revisiting Tchaikovsky’s famous score to offer a modern and urban work. The choreographer is accompanied by eight dancers with varied influences but in a very complementary way. Blanca Li will present her shows in December 2024 to immerse the audience into the Christmas spirit!

Nutcracker’s show: https://www.blancali.com/spectacle/casse-noisette-de-blanca-li/

Swan Lake – Ballet Prejlocaj

CJC

Founded in 1984 by choreographer and dancer Angelin Prejlocaj, the company became the Centre Chorégraphique of the PACA region in 1996 and then took over the Pavillon Noir in Aix-en-Provence in 2006, turning it into a venue dedicated to dance. Ballet Prejlocaj is now internationally renowned, with over 120 performances a year and 30 permanent dancers. The choreographer is known for his numerous narrative ballets such as Snow White or Romeo and Juliet. In 2020, he addressed a masterpiece of the classical repertoire: Swan Lake. He presents a contemporary version that tackles current issues. The challenge of revisiting a work is always finding the right balance between the choreographer’s reinterpretation of the work and honouring the original piece by preserving its key elements. Angelin Prejlocaj himself says, “Perhaps the best tribute to Marius Petipa is to enter his creative process, to reinvent things.” By distancing himself from classical codes, he reinvents this iconic work through contemporary dance, allowing the classical and contemporary worlds to intertwine. The show will be on tour at the end of December and beginning of January!

Swan Lake’s show: https://preljocaj.org/creation/le-lac-des-cygnes/

The success of these performances lies in the dialogue between different dance styles, which both challenge certain codes and bring modernity while staying true to the essence of each style. The very concept of style needs to be redefined, as there are as many styles of dance as there are dancers, each with their own vision of dance. Categorizing each dance style according to specific criteria deprives us of the opportunity for different universes to meet, which is, after all, the primary goal of culture. It is often when styles and cultures intertwine that we witness a unique creation.

L’art de décloisonner les styles et repenser la danse – Les spectacles à voir

La danse est souvent perçue comme un art divisé en plusieurs styles ayant chacun leurs particularités : une attitude, une technique, une tenue, une musique, etc. Chaque style est un univers avec ses propres codes. Par exemple, le classique est vu comme la discipline de référence en termes de rigueur et de technique ; le contemporain est perçu comme un style plus déstructuré, fondé sur le ressenti et l’émotion du danseur ; le hip-hop est dynamique avec des accents marqués et des isolations du corps. On enferme souvent chaque style de danse dans une catégorie et nous avons ainsi des attentes bien spécifiques. Or, la réalité est bien différente de cette approche théorique et cloisonnée de la danse. Chaque danseur développe son propre style et les spectacles que je vous présente ci-dessous illustrent ce décloisonnement des styles pour nous amener à repenser la danse.

Stories – RB Dance Company

Le premier spectacle que je souhaitais mettre en lumière s’intitule Stories et est réalisé par la RB Dance Company, une troupe de danse fondée en 2018 et révélée dans l’émission La France a un incroyable talent. Il s’agit d’un spectacle de claquette urbaine, dirigé par le talentueux Romain Rachline Bourgeaud qui nous offre une mise en scène moderne et ambitieuse à l’image des plus grands spectacles de Broadway. Les claquettes ont longtemps été un style « ringardisé », mais ce spectacle qui a déplacé plus de 100 000 spectateurs en France et à l’international renouvelle le style en proposant une nouvelle approche. Le chorégraphe explique sa volonté de créer un mélange entre le mouvement et le son des claquettes utilisées comme un instrument de musique pour accentuer les temps forts. On retient de ce spectacle la précision et l’énergie communicative des danseurs qui font raisonner la scène sous leurs pieds. Cette proposition moderne remet les claquettes au goût du jour et fait tomber les barrières des styles en mélangeant du jazz urbain, des claquettes et des percussions. La compagnie effectue sa dernière tournée en 2024-2025 donc n’hésitez pas à aller y jeter un œil !

Spectacle Stories: https://www.rbdancecompany.com/stories

Casse-Noisette – Blanca Li

Le deuxième spectacle illustre aussi le décloisonnement des styles, mais de manière différente en proposant au public de redécouvrir une œuvre classique à travers un autre style. Il s’agit du ballet Casse-Noisette revisité par la danseuse et chorégraphe espagnole Blanca Li, présidente de la Grande Halle de la Villette depuis quelques mois. Elle propose au public de redécouvrir le célèbre conte de Casse-Noisette en version hip-hop. Il s’agit d’un véritable défi afin de moderniser ce chef-d’œuvre sans le dénaturer. Elle se réapproprie l’histoire de Casse-Noisette en retravaillant la célèbre partition de Tchaïkovski pour offrir une œuvre moderne et urbaine. La chorégraphe s’accompagne de huit danseurs avec des influences variées, mais qui se complètent. Blanca Li plonge les spectateurs dans l’esprit de Noël avec un spectacle unique et ambitieux !

Spectacle Casse-Noisette: https://www.blancali.com/spectacle/casse-noisette-de-blanca-li/

Le lac des cygnes – Ballet Prejlocaj

CJC

Fondée en 1984 par le chorégraphe et danseur Angelin Prejlocaj, la compagnie devient Centre chorégraphique de la région PACA en 1996 puis investit le Pavillon Noir à Aix-en-Provence en 2006 pour en faire un véritable lieu dédié à la danse. Le Ballet Prejlocaj connait désormais une renommée internationale avec plus de 120 représentations par an et compte 30 danseurs permanents. Le chorégraphe est connu pour ses nombreux ballets narratifs tels que Blanche-Neige ou Roméo et Juliette. En 2020, le chorégraphe s’attaque à un chef-d’œuvre du répertoire classique : Le Lac des Cygnes. Il en propose une version contemporaine qui s’adresse aux enjeux actuels. La difficulté de revisiter une œuvre est toujours de trouver le bon équilibre entre à la fois l’appropriation de l’œuvre par le chorégraphe pour en faire son œuvre et rendre hommage à l’œuvre originale en gardant les éléments caractéristiques. Angelin Prejlocaj le dit lui-même « C’est peut-être le meilleur hommage à rendre à Marius Petipa que d’entrer dans son processus créatif, de réinventer les choses ». En s’affranchissant des codes classiques, il réinvente cette œuvre incontournable par la danse contemporaine et permet ainsi à deux univers, le classique et le contemporain, de s’entremêler.

Spectacle Casse-Noisette: https://preljocaj.org/creation/le-lac-des-cygnes/

Ce qui fait la réussite de ces spectacles, ce sont les dialogues entre plusieurs styles de danses qui viennent à la fois bousculer certains codes, apporter de la modernité tout en restant fidèle à l’essence de chaque style. Le concept même de style est à redéfinir, car il existe autant de styles de danse que de danseurs, car chacun a sa propre vision de la danse. Vouloir enfermer chaque style de danse selon certains critères nous prive de la rencontre entre différents univers qui sont pourtant l’objectif premier de la culture. C’est souvent lorsque les styles et les cultures s’entremêlent qu’on assiste à la création d’une œuvre unique.

Marine Tran

My favorite movie is a black & white, 4h50min long Hungarian film from the ‘70s. 

Cinéma / TV, Réflexions, , ,

This opinion piece was inspired by Internet trends and my own thoughts on what it is like to enjoy cinema in a perpetually judgmental world. In it, I consider the different contexts in which art can be perceived. Does art change people or do people change art? 

It has become commonplace to hear cinephiles being described as a group of pretentious and arrogant people who only enjoy obscure, foreign auteur films. This recent phenomenon is in full effect due to Internet trends, but also larger social and artistic shifts which are changing the industry and the art’s landscape. I see myself as a cinephile (check out my Letterboxd) even though many of my favorite pictures are very accessible and recent American movies (La La Land, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Superbad, The Matrix to name a few). 

Along my journey as a cinephile, I often ask myself “Which movie should I watch today?” but what I’m really wondering is “Will I enjoy this film?”, “Is this film considered good?” or even “What will my peers and other people think if I watch this film?”. As I reflect over these questions, I also think on the aforementioned “cinephile” debate. 

What is a cinephile? 

A cinephile is not necessarily someone who has watched every Kurosawa or Kubrick movie. Nor do they possess encyclopaedic knowledge on the industry since the pre-war era. A cinephile can be very simply defined as someone who enjoys watching movies a lot and who has a desire to discover more. 

When people enjoy an art, or have a passion in general, they tend to start exploring said field. No matter how far and wide someone has explored, regardless of their experience or expertise, once they are on this journey of discovery, they are a lover of the art. Many, especially online (including me), are still at the beginning of this journey. People will tend to compare themselves to others who’ve done more and seen more. I have at times had this feeling that I had not explored enough, or that I should’ve watched this movie at that moment instead of seeing Cars again. 

It is in our nature as a society to judge and feel judged. This leads, inevitably, to the existence of social status: wanting to be considered ahead of the curve, whatever that means. No matter what, people will criticize your tastes. My favorite film could be Twilight, Interstellar or The Godfather, there will always be a group of people ready to tell me my choices are bad for x or y reason. Yes, many cinephiles consider that they are socially and intellectually superior simply because they enjoy more “sophisticated” art.

These egocentric and superficial (and insecure) people have given a bad reputation to their peers and art enjoyers in general. Elitists create a feeling within the general population that enjoying mainstream, fun, relatable movies is bad or for the dim-witted. Shunning someone for enjoying movies risks stunting their motivation to explore and start their own journey into cinema, though perhaps this kind of gatekeeping is subconsciously intentional. 

Auteur cinema and mainstream cinema 

There has however been a very real shift within the past 25 years within cinema and blockbuster culture. This shift is perfectly illustrated when detractors of aforementioned elitists are asked to cite movies which they consider too high brow: most mention American classics such as Taxi Driver, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Jaws or other pre-1980 movies. While yes, these films do have a distinct art direction and an authentic auteur feel, they were the most watched movies at their release, marketed and seen as mainstream, normal content by moviegoers at the time.

This is, in my opinion, one of the biggest issues with the film industry nowadays. The blockbusters, films meant to drive the most traffic to theaters are no longer films created by auteurs. Don’t get me wrong, they are still fun. They just lack a distinct identity. Pictures made by auteurs are still very much a thing and can be found easily by those who want to. My impression however is that there is now a disconnect between mainstream movies and more artistic ones, thus warping the public’s perception of cinema, both past and present. What was once seen as normal is now perceived as foreign and what was once seen as foreign is now flat out incomprehensible.  

This is a larger symptom of the way media in general has been treated since the 1980s, increasingly focusing on creating viewership, maximizing profit regardless of the content produced. Director Peter Watkins details this degradation in content quality among leading media around the world in his book Media Crisis (2007) which I highly recommend.  

Most forms of current day media require little to no critical thinking on the consumer’s part, aiming to drown them in fast-paced, colorful and harmless images. In that sense, the cinephile’s journey is made more difficult. Being fed low effort movies is satisfying, but it has become that much more difficult to want to diversify and discover new and different art.

On the other hand, thanks to the Internet, finding said art has been made infinitely easier to the delight of all those who keep marching forward on their journey. Streaming platforms (Netflix, Disney+, etc.), YouTube, the Internet Archive are all hubs to learn about and consume art we would’ve otherwise never encountered. Even illegal streaming websites offer a surprisingly large database of films (I DO NOT condone streaming films illegally as it is vital for the industry to consume films the intended way. I ALSO DO NOT recommend visiting websites such as https://gomovies.sx/ or https://hurawatch.art/ for their wide variety of content including subtitles in 20+ languages). 

Regardless of what you watch, where you watch it and how you enjoy it, it is your curiosity and love for the art form that defines you as a cinephile. While I think the entire debate mentioned in the introduction is often blown out of proportion and caricatural, it has at least helped me reflect on myself as a cinephile, and on the state of cinema as we know it today. Also no, my favorite movie isn’t Hungarian, old or 290 minutes long. It’s 2011 Oscar-for-best-animated-feature-winner Rango, you should check it out! 

Colin Lhernould