Selected Film Essays and Interviews.
Gleeson-White, Sarah
Selected Film Essays and Interviews. Bruce Kawin. London: Anthem
Press, 2013. 215 pp. $40 paper.
Bruce Kawin, Professor of English and Film at the University of
Colorado-Boulder, has been writing elegantly and rigorously (one of his
mantras is "getting it right") about film for around forty
years and across an impressive number of books, chapters, articles, and
interviews. The most significant of these have now been collected in one
volume for the first time, and together represent the breadth and depth
of Kawin's interests and scholarship: American, British, and
European film and literature; film, television, and video; and genre and
art-house film.
Faulkner scholars will already be familiar with Kawin via his
trailblazing scholarship on Faulkner's screenplays and cinematic
fiction--for Kawin, Faulkner is the most cinematic of authors. Not even
a handful of scholars had taken seriously Faulkner's relationship
to film before Kawin's initial foray into the field in 1977 with
"A Faulkner Filmography." He subsequently produced further
essays, a book (Faulkner and Film, 1977) and a scholarly edition
(Faulkner's MGM Screenplays, 1982) on this cinematic Faulkner,
concluding with the 2002 publication of excerpts from his 1976 interview
with Howard Hawks not long before the director's death. It was
Hawks, of course, who first enticed Faulkner out to Hollywood where they
collaborated on numerous projects over the course of two decades. This
interview is published here in its entirety for the first time along
with Kawin's 1978 interview with silent-screen star Lillian Gish,
who discusses, among other things, her collaboration with D. W. Griffith
on Intolerance (1916) and Broken Blossoms (1919).
What Hawks has to say here about Faulkner's and his own use of
"opposites" (114-15) in their respective creative practices is
particularly intriguing when read alongside Kawin's arguably most
important contribution to Faulkner studies, his 1979 essay "The
Montage Element in Faulkner's Fiction," also collected here.
Kawin's insight is that Faulkner, in his "greatest novels and
stories," deployed the specifically cinematic trope of montage,
evidenced in his use of "oxymoron, dynamic unresolution, parallel
plotting, rapid shifts in time and space, and multiple narration"
(136). To put it simply, Faulkner "was doing something that the
cinema also did" (136). As incisively, Kawin observes that
"Faulkner recognized a difference between the terms
'Hollywood' and 'film,' although many of his
biographers, critics and colleagues seem to have missed that particular
boat" (141). In one fell swoop and over thirty years ago, Kawin
writes back to those scholars who even today disavow or dismiss the
cinematic Faulkner, be it the screenwriter, the avid movie-goer, or the
cinematic novelist. Indeed, it has only been in this century that the
implications of Kawin's cutting-edge readings of Faulkner have been
fully appreciated and pursued.
Selected Film Essays and Interviews also includes a tribute to
another Southerner, Horton Foote, whom Kawin characterizes as "a
legend" of television's golden age. Unlike Faulkner's
teleplays and screenplays, Foote's have seemed less controversial
subjects for discussion, and include his original screenplay Tender
Mercies (1983) for Australian director Bruce Beresford; his redaction of
To Kill a Mockingbird (Robert Mulligan, 1962); and teleplays such as
redactions of Faulkner's "Tomorrow" (Tomorrow; 1960;
film, 1972), the "Old Man" sections of The Wild Palms (Old
Man, 1997), and "Barn Burning" (Barn Burning, 1980), and also
of Flannery O'Connor's "The Displaced Person" (The
Displaced Person, 1977). I was tantalized by Kawin's description of
Baby the Rain Must Fall (Mulligan, 1965), for which Foote wrote the
screenplay, as "Foote's answer to Faulkner's Light in
August" (152). As Kawin reminds us that Foote "spans the gap
between the studios and the shoestring independents" (150), he also
places him in direct dialogue with Faulkner and O'Connor in--who
would have thought?--the televisual field.
And this is what is so valuable about Kawin's collection,
particularly the manner in which it has been curated. The essays on two
significant Southern litterateurs, better known for fiction or stage
drama, are situated within the field of the visual (cinematic,
televisual, video) and the scholarship that obtains there. The bulk of
Kawin's Selected Film Essays and Interviews, as its title
indicates, comprises essays on Hollywood and independent film from the
silent era to Avatar (2009), and on television and video. These include
his seminal essay on film violence, "Me Tarzan, You Junk"
(1978); "Wild Blueberry Muffins" (1993), a manifesto in the
face of film theory's alleged tendency toward a "certain
snobbish, ignorant and downright nasty attitude that has poorly masked
its rudeness and narcissism behind a set of rhetorical and ideological
conventions" (32); "An Outline of Film Voices" (1985),
which extends the examination of first-person cinema in his 1978
Mindscreen to include the second and third persons; and the concluding
essays on television and video.
The way in which the volume situates Faulkner and Foote in--even
surrounds them with--such groundbreaking film scholarship productively
skews more conventional accounts of these writers--of Faulkner
particularly, I'd hazard. This volume has the potential to help us
think anew (again) of these Southerners as we read about them side by
side with Gish on Griffith, with essays on film violence, film voices
(which encouraged me to return to Stephen Ross's Fiction's
Inexhaustible Voice: Speech and Writing in Faulkner) and so forth.
Kawin's volume has the (no doubt unexpected) effect of asking us to
expand the field of "Southern literature," especially on the
back of the cinematic turn that Southern studies has taken in recent
years, exemplified by Deborah Barker and Kathryn McKee's 2011
collection, American Cinema and the Southern Imaginary. In particular,
those who, like me, continue in this direction would do well to heed
Kawin's plea to "get it right," to "stand up for
accuracy." I can think of no better model in this pursuit than his
Selected Film Essays and Interviews.
Sarah Gleeson-White
University of Sydney