Home movie-making has been a remarkable part of twentieth-century family culture. Making home movies became a family practice that added to the definition of a new family ideology. The presence of a movie camera could hold a double promise, both celebrating and preserving family happiness. (Aasman, 362)
David Christian discusses how contemporary society is called the "information age" because "its dominant technologies are electronic and genetic" (Christian, 444). The home-movie camera assisted in defining this era. As an American growing up in the later 21st Century, the home-movie camera was definitely a part of my upbringing, proving Aasman's point of its presence in contemporary culture. Although there was an evolution with the actual camera in my home as one would break and another would be purchased, such a recording device was always present in my childhood. Even though the moments documented were mainly birthday and holiday related, the fact was that my parents felt to document my siblings lives and mine. As Peter Forgacs states, "the attitude of the makers of home movies is similar to that of diarists: they both seek to record things as they happen. However, while the written diary is a conscious reflection on what has already transpired, filmmaking is an immediate recording launched at the push of a button" (Forgacs, 50). The purpose of recording is to document and my parents did a great job of documenting our lives.
This idea was elaborated upon while I was an undergrad. I took a course entitled "Children's Media" in which we focused mainly on entertainment for children, specifically film and television. One specific day of instruction was devoted to the representation of children in the media. For our feature that day we watched home-movies that our professor had recorded over the years of his children. (As a side-note, he would steer-clear of capturing the traditional home-movie moments of birthdays and Christmas. Instead he would focus on the daily moments of the children interacting with each other. It was here that we were able to truly see the children in their element.) We watched the children playing at the playground, playing amongst themselves, and playing alone. There were interactive moments where the father would ask questions and the child would answer. There were other moments when the children were completely oblivious to the camera. Similar to Jos Huygen in Gladly Breaking Bread, my professor was not making a professional film "but [was] a father recording his family" (Aasman, 368).
However, as someone representing those who create home-movies and those who view them, as spectators there is a natural role and responsibility that we must be aware of. While reading, I realized that there are two paradoxes that must be addressed when viewing home-movies. It should be noted that no solutions are put forth in this post. This post is a simple reflection of the various readings.
First is the fact that not many people would be interested in what has been recorded. It seems the interest lies in those who have a natural connection to the videos. Michael Roth, in his article "Ordinary Film: Peter Forgac's Maelstrom," states that "as soon as the home movie is taken from its native environment, it has the capacity to become either senseless or unheimlich. We need to wrap the home movie in something else" (Zimmerman, 66). I find that the Orphan Film movement is doing this as it takes the film out of the environment in which it was created and then applies it to a general setting, a setting that could potentially see these home-movies as worthless. However, this movement attempts to give sense and worth to such films. As one interested in the idea that home-movies are able to shed light on certain societies and cultures, I have become interested in looking more into the genre of home-movies. It is dismaying that although interesting, many may not see the potential that such films have to shed light on history.
Second is the idea of the representation of reality in home-movie. It is difficult to know how much the camera influences the subjects being recorded. In Ishizuka and Zimmermann's article, "The Home Movie and the National Film Registry: A story of Topaz," Izhizuka and Zimmerman state that "the camera shots…do not fathom the emotions hidden within the evacuees—the fear, the loneliness, the despair, and the bitterness that we felt" (130). The camera hides the real emotions of the subject. Often, a person will smile automatically when a video or static camera is directed towards them. There is much more that is occurring than what is seen in the shot. Even in Topaz it is suggested that when the father records the family, they are more full of life. He was selective in what he recorded. He purposefully eliminated any recording of guards or fences as he did not want to get caught and have his camera taken away. The absence of such moments reminds me as a viewer that what I see is not reality. There is much more going on in the background then just smiling faces.
To be aware of the danger that home-movies are in once taken out of their natural environment and understanding the responsibility we have as viewers are two aspects I feel are important. I do not propose any type of solution to allow for more meaning to be found in home-movies or how to enforce the responsibility we as viewers have. The hope for myself is that I can continue to see the value of such films in studying film and history, while being aware that the reality may be different that what is portrayed on the screen. Focusing on these ideas was a good lesson for myself in what I can do, and what I must do, as a viewer of film.
Ashley Pacini
No comments:
Post a Comment