Superfluities Redux

by George Hunka
Artistic director, theatre minima

A Theatre Surrounds a City:
Vienna's Burgtheater


Monday, 22 February 2010

The last reel: Faces

John Cassavetes' grueling 1968 masterpiece Faces takes place over about 18 hours in the life of an upper-middle-class marriage in California. There is a tremendous amount of laughter in the film, almost all of it empty and hollow like the characters who populate Faces; ideas of intimacy and communication, masculinity and femininity, success and failure are stretched to the breaking point, then painfully exploded. Unlike its obvious predecessor Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, the work denies an easy escape into symbolism and metaphor and places a considerable part of the blame for the situation on the consumer culture which defines and cripples the characters (the husband is a Hollywood film producer, if the prologue to the film is given that weight). Perhaps its most recent descendant is Woody Allen's Husbands and Wives, a 1992 film clearly indebted to Faces in style, technique and theme.

The final reel takes place during a morning after a night in which both husband and wife have pursued adulterous affairs and the wife, in the immediate aftermath of hers, has taken an overdose of sleeping pills, only to be revived by the male prostitute who serviced her the night before. The film ends in the silence of recognition. In this last reel, Seymour Cassel is Chet, the gigolo; Lynn Carlin plays Maria Forst; and John Marley (who a few years later would play the film producer Jack Woltz in The Godfather) is Richard Forst:

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Monday, 22 February 2010

A Critique of Tragedy 10

Schopenhauer's radicalism did not lie in the metaphysics laid out in the first book of The World as Will and Representation — it is a distilled and corrected Kantianism that can be found there, and Schopenhauer paid his debt to it. Apart from his personal example as explored by Nietzsche in "Schopenhauer as Educator," it lay instead in three things: first, his identification of the will as the thing-in-itself (as dark and pessimistic as this was, it is not for that reason invalid or untrue); second, his placing of aesthetic experience above that of science or abstract philosophy as the means to experience of the noumenal; and third, his integration of Eastern philosophies into his own Western tradition. But it is the ironic fate of visionary radicals like Schopenhauer that history has its joke: for it is necessarily incomplete at the time of its writing. Schopenhauer had completed the first volume of his magnum opus in 1818/19, a time during which the bloody recognitions of the French Revolution were fresh in the European mind, and the Industrial Revolution was just beginning. As newly industrialized cities experienced their explosive growth in the following two decades, Modernism itself emerged as a peculiarly democratic and urban response in the work of Baudelaire and Büchner, both of whom were likely directly influenced by Schopenhauer's philosophy (see, for example, Shehira Doss-Davezac's essay "Schopenhauer according to the Symbolists: the philosophical roots of late nineteenth-century French aesthetic theory," in this volume). The poet and the playwright set out to accomplish in art what Schopenhauer had accomplished in philosophy: an event which Schopenhauer, with his favoring of art over science, would certainly have approved.

But this urbanization and industrialization also called for new economics and new psychology which emerged with the formal theory of communism and class struggle of Karl Marx and the exhilarating psychological findings of Sigmund Freud. The years 1818-1914 were a time of relative peace in Europe; Marx's surplus value (which Bataille would then reconfigure as excess or plethora) was absorbed by the growth of the cities and capital itself. But, as Bataille would suggest, this excess energy created by industrialism and capitalism would burst from their limits: too large for the cities and the banks, it would then emerge as war or in some other manner. Ultimately, in 1945, its energy would literally explode, laying waste to Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Asia; its administrative energy in the system of the concentration and death camps scattered through central Europe.

These were phenomenal manifestations of the Schopenhauerian thing-in-itself as well, and in their wake the place of art and community needed to be wholly reconceived (the sociological, psychological and aesthetic project of the Frankfurt School under Horkheimer and Adorno). But this reconception would take place in a culture in which Schopenhauer's visions had come to obvious fruition. It was Adorno's project to suggest how to philosophize and make art in the shadow of these manifestations; Bataille's to reconceive art and community. In both, Eros, not Thanatos, provides the guiding spirit of any possible redemption, in the dark shadows of the drive to death that Freud described. This is the historical and philosophical situation in which tragedy's necessity became more and more acute, as both Adorno and Bataille well recognized. It was an urgent call for music and drama, the two greatest art forms, to be reconceived under these new shadows. Married to Schopenhauer's radical thought, it suggests a new tragedy for the 21st century.

In comedy the anxiety of the self is dissipated in laughter; in melodrama, in tears; in agitprop, in anger. In tragedy it finds a silence in which the self is forced to turn inward, its anxiety pure and complete; it is faced full, without escape.


Other "Critique of Tragedy" posts here.

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