r.i.p. rudolf arnheim

I have just learnt (through Cinematical) of the death, last June, of Rudolf Arnheim (1904-2007), one of the greatest and most important of film theorists. Though there is much to criticize in his theories (as Noel Carroll demonstrates so eloquently in Philosophical Problems of Classical Film Theory), it is undeniable that his early contributions to the academic field of film studies was instrumental in the development of the understanding of film as a new and valuable art form.

Despite the flaws in his arguments, and a certain narrowness in his vision (he continued to criticize the sound film as a dilution of the purity of silent cinema), the ideas expressed in his seminal work Film als Kunst (1932) are still endlessly valuable in understanding the cinematic art. Locating the value of film in the specific ways in which it diverges from the mechanical, photographic recording of reality (and thus emphasizing the inherent artifice, rather than the realist aspect, of fimmaking), he outlined these specific divergences as being the cause of film's expressive power, thus paving the way for much formalist analysis of the medium. He remains one of the greatest and most important theorists of this still-young medium.

r.i.p. : ingmar bergman, michelangelo antonioni

It is impossible not to be feel saddened by the loss, within two days, of two of the most revered of auteur figures. I must confess I have not explored Bergman's and Antonioni's oeuvres with the thorougness their reputation demands; I have only seen a handful of Bergman's films, and none at all of Antonioni's (something about the mental image I have of what they are like always makes me decide to put off renting one until next time).

I have never considered Bergman one of my favourite directors, most probably for the illogical reason that I have always associated his name with the crowd of mostly ageing cinephiles for whom the only good cinema is the European arthouse cinema of the 60s and 70s. And yet I cannot deny that The Seventh Seal is almost certainly one of the greatest films ever made; its tortured metaphysical questioning veined with a surreal black humour making it virtually unique and shatteringly affecting. Moreover, in films like Wild Strawberries, Bergman blended metaphysics with agonized, soul-searching character studies, all crafted with a meticulously perfect cinematic eye.His place in the history of cinema and his status as one of the great auteurs is assured and more than deserved.

I'm afraid I can say little about Antonioni, as I know him by reputation alone; however there can be little doubt his name will likewise be etched in the annals of cinema.