This section on African Cinema is devoted to director Djibril Diop Mambety, or more specifically, his films Hyenas and Touki Bouki. Touki Bouki is the film that launched Mambety into the spotlight of the global film community in 1973, and Hyenas is arguably his most well executed film.

Here are a couple of links about the source material for background information before reading any further.

Touki Bouki

Hyenas

While Hyenas and Touki Bouki are both films from Djbril Diop Mambety, in my estimation they are different in many regards, yet vaguely familiar in others. Hyenas is a tale of returning to Africa for revenge, while Touki Bouki is a film about escaping Africa through deception and theft. While those plot elements may seem different at first, they both hinge on the cultural concept of disconnection. In Hyenas, Linguere Ramatou returns to the town that previously had cast her out in shame. She traveled the world amassing a fortune, which she would later use as a mechanism of her own personal revenge.



In Touki Bouki, Mory and Ana decide to leave their hometown because of the disconnection they feel with their lives and the people associated with them. In both instances cultural disconnection drives the reason behind the events that unfold, although the paths to each are dramatically different. Mambety’s ability to weave together two seemingly unrelated stories lend to his credibility as one of the premiere directors from the continent.

The narrative structure of the films, in contrast to the plot elements however, is drastically different. In Hyenas Mambety uses a rather linear form of storytelling so that the audience never really experiences any difficulty in following the storyline. Characters are developed as the story progresses, with a bit of recall of the past garnered through stories told between the two main characters, and as a viewer you gradually learn more about the lives and personalities of the participants in the film.

Alternately though, in Touki Bouki the story is much less straightforward, and highly confusing when experienced through just one viewing. The European and Russian influenced techniques that Mambety employs tend to confuse and disorient viewers, while sending their senses spiraling into disarray. His effective use of montage in a French new-wave style of film tends to visually overload viewers with a shot to the jaw. Non-linear story progression swirls chronology right down the drain, and fragmented character interaction make connecting with the protagonists a bit of a daunting task for the uninitiated.

As indirectly mentioned in the previous paragraph, the film making aspects of these two films differ dramatically, thus changing the way viewers connect with the characters. The linear development of Hyenas allows audiences to connect with the characters, especially Dramaan, much more deeply than in Touki Bouki. In the latter film, the fragmented storytelling impedes an audience connection with Mory and Ana directly, due to the filmatic devices that Mambety employs. His technique is precise in both films, yet more receptive in Hyenas.

I feel that Hyenas is the stronger of the two films, yet not as culturally significant as Touki Bouki.

Just another one of those fun little internet tests for things that you are interested in.

I was pretty satisfied with my result being Captain Reynolds, he is, after all, the hero of the show!

I see that this blog is further losing focus and becoming more like one of the backwater worlds way out in the black.

Probably has something to do with the fact that I just don't have the time to write anymore. With a baby coming soon, I imagine I'll have even less in the future. Hopefully some of you visitors are listening to my podcast though, as that takes up a good portion of my free time these days.

Thanks for sticking with me, I'll try and be better about updating the site, I promise!


You are Malcolm Reynolds (Captain)

Malcolm Reynolds (Captain) 80% Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command) 75% Wash (Ship Pilot) 75% Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic) 60% Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic) 50% Inara Serra (Companion) 35% Derrial Book (Shepherd) 30% River (Stowaway) 30% Alliance 25% Jayne Cobb (Mercenary) 15% A Reaver (Cannibal) 10%

Honest and a defender of the innocent. You sometimes make mistakes in judgment but you are generally good and would protect your crew from harm.

Click here to take the Serenity Firefly Personality Test

I found this to be an amusing little site. It gauges your ability to combat swarms of 5 year old children in a melee setting where you are fighting for your life against Kindergarten aged children.

It ranks based on willingness to win, morals, previous fighting experience, fighting background, and much more. I wonder if this can be tested? Maybe one day I will walk to the elementary school behind my house at recess and find out!

Give it a shot and post your result here in the comments section!

26

Download here

I have been really pressed for time this week, so the show is mostly just music this time. I'm sure this will appeal to some listeners, and not to others. Either way though, I apologize for the change in format this week, should be back to normal next time.

Be sure to catch And One on February 17th if you are in New York City. They will be playing at Webster Hall with Life Cried and Cervello Elettronico.

Episode 4 Tracklist

• Failure - The Parallel Project
• Something Wicked - Distorted Reality
• Slipstream Monocraft - Headscan
• Blush - Razed in Black
• Re-Align (Cut.Rate.Box Remix) - Stromkern
• Fading Light (Club Mix) - In Strict Confidence
• Almost Violent - Rotersand
• Bullet - Covenant
• Here To Stay - New Order
• Send Me An Angel (Razormaid!) - Real Life

Be sure to check out my attempt at contributing to the synthpop, futurepop, darkwave, industrial, ebm, and goth scenes.

This semi-regular podcast will cover all of these genres of music and more.

You can download it by clicking on the link above, or if you're too lazy, click here!

Episode 1 Tracklist

• Iceolate - Frontline Assembly
• Dare to Live - Rotersand
• Fix - Aesthetic Perfection
• Cry Little Sister - Blutengel
• Eiskalte Liebe - Tristesse De La Lune
• Michelle - Clan of Xymox
• It's A Sin - The Crüxshadows
• Sensoria - Cabaret Voltaire
• Run To You - Code 64
• Obvious - Provision
• Disease - Ayria
• Pray For Love - Edge of Dawn

My blog about this podcast can be found at www.synthwaveradio.com

    Horror; hor.ror (n.) –
    1. An intense, painful feeling of repugnance and fear
    2. Intense dislike, abhorrence
    3. Something unpleasant or disagreeable
                                               
                                                -- Dictionary.com

    To first understand why neither Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining nor George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead are true horror films, we must first define exactly what it is that a horror film entails. If only considering the clinical definition above, then yes, these films are indeed horror, but the genre in question, pertaining to film, does not fit inside of that tidy little box quite so well.

Any educated and well versed filmgoer would probably tell you that a horror film is much more than just the ability to cause a viewer to be repulsed by what is seen on screen. It is more likely that for a true fan of film, the genre of horror is more implicitly determined by a film’s intent, rather than its received message from the audience.

With that being said, it is the intention of purposely scaring the viewer, and little else, that will matter in clinically defining a horror film for the purpose of this particular body of work. Films such as the Nightmare on Elm Street series, The Ring, and others of that ilk would be examples of the classic horror films that will be the standard bar that separate these two films from the rest in that genre. While both The Shining and Dawn of the Dead employ some techniques and themes found in many horror films, neither film falls distinctly into that particular category.

From a cinematography standpoint, neither film fits into the horror genre, but they both achieve this subversion through different methods. In Kubrick’s The Shining, the wide-open space is a focal point of the film, achieved through long shots and aerial viewpoints. While the cinematography is purposely used in this regard to convey a feeling of isolation and loneliness, it does not necessarily serve to frighten or scare the viewer.

While it does subconsciously remind the viewer visually of the helplessness of the situation in which Danny and Wendy Torrance find themselves, it has no direct effect on emotion or fright. Towards the end of the film the style changes and incorporates smaller spaces and more close ups, but this change in filming style is used more to show the effects of the psychosis which Jack Torrance is going through, than it is to scare the viewer. Many of the extreme close ups are on Jack’s face, and his eyes in particular, which again allow us as viewers to peer into the fractured mind of the character, revealing to us the suspense of the situation over the often misread representation of horror.

In Romero’s Dawn of the Dead though, it is the absence of night filming, and the shots used to set up scenes, that are the telltale visual signs that differentiate the film from most of the contemporaries it is often mistakenly grouped with. To convey tension, and ultimately the scare, darkness is commonly used in horror films to achieve this response. Romero however, bucks these conventions and films almost entirely in the light, and usually informs viewers of surroundings with establishing shots before moving on with a scene.

Outside of the boiler room scene in which a zombie is stalking Stephen, there is very little filming done in dark areas or at night. The film begins at night, but all filming
is done inside in fully lit areas. This alone is visually enough of a signifier to differentiate and inform viewers that this is not just another horror movie, but something outside of that small paradigm.

In conjunction with the absence of night filming, Romero uses something rarely seen in a horror film, establishing shots. Characters rarely enter scenarios in which the viewer is not first aware of their surroundings and the possible dangers to them. In a true horror film the element of surprise is the most effective tool in frightening viewers through cheap visual and auditory scares, Romero again shuns this trend in the genre, distancing himself from the proverbial pack.

The sound used in both films also tends to lean towards other genres of film as opposed to horror pieces. In The Shining the ambient sound effects and score often support a more suspenseful nature than one of fear. Outside of the ending of the film, little else throughout the course of the film would audibly lead a viewer to believe that this is a horror film.

Romero shies away from tradition even further than Kubrick by employing campy 70’s style mall music as a backdrop to much of his film. The absurdity of the music is often paired with visual matches for sometimes-hilarious effects. The moaning of Romero’s zombies also becomes such a common ambient white noise in the film that any uses of the moaning for frightening effect would become a moot point, and that was apparently Romero’s intention.



Another trait absent in both films is the lack of screaming that is often employed in horror films to clue the audience in that they should be scared of what is happening on screen. Only at the end of The Shining, and only in one scene during Dawn of the Dead, is there any screaming what so ever. Outside of those rare instances, the only sounds made by performers in both films are that of spoken dialogue.

Probably the most common error made when classifying either of these films, is basing a genre classification upon visual imagery represented through the makeup and special effects found in the films. While The Shining does use copious amounts of movie blood to signify the dementia setting in at the Overlook Hotel, it is so over the top that any possible fright that might be derived from these scenes is nullified by the grandiose over use of said “blood”. The only other use of special effects make-up in the film that could possibly be misconstrued as trying to scare the viewer would be the bathroom scene in which Jack finds himself face to face with the corpse of a past resident who was murdered there.

While the makeup utilized in this scene to alter the appearance of the woman in the bathtub may be frightening to some, a closer analysis of the scene simply reveals that this is yet another visual indicator to the psychosis which is slowly taking control of Jack Torrance’s mind, ultimately telling the viewer more about the psychological aspects of the character, rather than just frightening them.

Although Kubrick’s use of makeup and special effects is misleading, Romero’s Dawn of the Dead is ten times as guilty when it comes to using these techniques as red herrings. The entire course of the film is rife with grotesque makeup and liberal use of movie blood for effect, but none of it serves as a fright mechanism for the film. By the time the movie is one third over, viewers are desensitized to the makeup on the zombies as they receive very generous amounts of screen time, and the violence that is perpetrated upon the humans in the film is more of a visual gross-out than it is a genuine scare. Never does Romero’s use of makeup and special effects cause the viewer to turn away or close their eyes in fear, but rather in repulsion. While it would be easy for the casual filmgoer to mistake Tom Savini’s makeup effects for horror elements, they are certainly not utilized for that purpose.

While all of the previously discussed elements serve to differentiate these two films from the horror genre, the substantial differences lie in the narrative content of the films even more so than in the technical aspects. The Shining, while offering viewers a few genuinely scary moments, is much more of a suspense film than one belonging in the horror category.



The cinematography of the entire film serves to guide the viewer visually through what the narrative context is conveying psychologically. Throughout the unfolding of the story, the character of Jack Torrance undergoes numerous psychological changes and is metamorphosed into a picture of insanity. During the film Kubrick intensifies the tension through psychological methods rather than by using fear as his driving emotion. Scenes of Jack’s isolated emotions and fragile state of mind signify a violent climax to viewers, but never is violence used throughout the course of the movie until it is absolutely necessary during the film’s final sequences.

Where a classicly defined film in the horror genre would build tension through death scenes and frightening situations, Kubrick’s work only implies death, while psychosomatic implications through Jack’s character allow viewers to peer through a window that is only opened in the final moments of the film. For these contextual reasons alone, The Shining is more suited to being categorized in the suspense genre, rather than as a horror film.

Where Kubrick’s film and Romero’s differ substantially is in the content. While Kubrick focused on suspense elements in his film, Romero focused on the social
relevance of his film, and the societal reflections that he would ultimately come to be known for amongst film fans globally. In an age of rampant consumerism and social irresponsibility, Romero used zombies as a tool that mimicked microcosms of society that existed in every city around the United States not only in the 1970s, but in the world today as well.

His decision to set his film in a shopping mall was deliberate and intrinsic to the films greater message. His focus on the post-modern family unit and their effectiveness together also delivered a powerful and relevant message to anyone focused enough to look for the deeper contextual meaning in his masterpiece. As a group, a makeshift family of sorts, the characters in Dawn of the Dead manage to secure a home for themselves in a world of chaos. The character of Francine is used as a motherly tool-- and a representation of the future--and the need to preserve life through her pregnancy as well.

It is only at the end of the film, when the “family” disbands unintentionally to protect their home that they fall to the insanity that has swallowed the world that they inhabit. The real enemy is also revealed in the films final moments, but it is not what viewers expected all along. The biker gang that invades the shopping mall is the ultimate undoing of the protagonist’s lives, not the zombies that are really just a tool used by Romero to engage deeper societal issues. Man’s inhumanity to man reveals itself as the real villain of the story.

Romero also uses Dawn of the Dead, and incidentally his future films Day of the Dead and Land of the Dead, to discuss the possibility of a higher power in the form of the existence of a God, and shows us the progression of evolution, bluntly, throughout his entire series of “Dead” films. Racism is another issue that has been tackled by Romero since his first film, Night of the Living Dead, and is also addressed
here in Dawn of the Dead.

So as is apparent, Romero’s film, like Kubrick’s, does not easily fit into the horror genre, but unlike Kubrick’s film focusing on suspense, George A. Romero instead chose to focus his efforts into making a social commentary piece, that in retrospect is alarmingly accurate, even today. Much different than where most people would incorrectly lump this incredible film. While the films employ different means to separate themselves from traditional horror movies, they are both successful in defining themselves outside of the genre, all be it thorough different techniques and methods.

It is discernible that neither The Shining nor Dawn of the Dead fit into the category of a traditional horror film. While employing elements of the medium often associated with horror films, these two movies manage to transcend the boundaries placed upon them by culturally sterile movie patrons and the occasionally uninformed critic.
Although the techniques and methods used, both technically and in the narrative, are markedly different, The Shining and Dawn of the Dead both manage to carve out a particular niche in their genre-shattering representations of often-misunderstood subjects and characters. With multiple viewings of either, or both, films it becomes readily apparent that neither one of these classic films should be discourteously grouped into the too often expansive category of horror films.

Well, another birthday for Sega's commercially shunned Dreamcast is upon us, and this one marks the 8th year anniversary of its release here in the United States. Although Sega made many mistakes with the Dreamcast and its predecessors--the Sega CD, 32X, and Saturn--the DC has achieved a cult status with a loyal following of hardcore fans. The system continues to see official new releases in Japan, as well as homebrewed games, and hacks to allow games from other systems to be played on the console.

For a system with such a short lifespan here in the US, the DC made an impact on gamers that is rarely achieved by other consoles with greater longevity, and much deeper libraries.

It's hard to convey in words what has made the Dreamcast such a huge cult success in the days following its demise, but it seems that the adoration for Sega's last console system is not going away anytime soon, and the library will continue to grow for years to come.

Although Sega officially shutdown their Phantasy Star Online servers for the DC earlier this year, and this past week they discontinued their dricas page (the DC internet page) for the system in its native Japan, support for the console will most assuredly continue within the online community.

There are still numerous sites devoted to the Dreamcast and its games, here are a few to check out if you are still one of the millions of gamers out there that still loves your DC as much as I do!

Dreamcast Scene - Great site with a great community. Updated frequently by users.

SegaKatana.com - A site centering around Sega rarities and development. Katana was the official codename for the Dreamcast before it was commercially released.

Dreamcast History - A site on, you guessed it, a history of the Dreamcast

Dreamcast Wiki - Wikipedia's page on the DC

PlanetDreamcast - Articles, reviews, cheats, and more can be found here.

A fantastic fan-made tribute to the Street Fighter 2 character Balrog (M. Bison in Japan). I would personally love to see more quality efforts like this  from fans. Great original song, great composition, well done video, just a solid effort overall.

This video is also available on YouTube if you want to add it to your favorites there.





Credits.

Directed by: Turbo
Lyrics by: Turbo
Performed by: Turbo
Music (production) by: Saylen Strayer.
For more info. email Turbo2k5@yahoo.com



Gigaton Punch MP3 available here ~ Special thanks to forum member slerch666 for converting this into an MP3.

This piece is a discussion of the modernity found in the writing of one of Japan's most prominent 19th/20th century authors, Kunikida Doppo.

Kunikida Doppo’s short story Those Unforgettable People, published in 1898, just previous to the turn of the 20th century, is a fine example of modern Japanese literature that harbors minor relics of the past, while marching forward into the modern era that Japan was rapidly approaching. While the style of writing is modern in its essence, Doppo tends to show flashes of an era gone by through mention of customs past and through the attitudes in some of his characters. Those Unforgettable People is a short, concise story that allows readers to easily recognize the changes in Japanese thought and artistic style around the end of the 19th century.

The main character of Doppo’s story, Otsu Benjiro, is a manifest example of how Japan was entering a more modern existence around the turn of the century. From his “western style clothing” to his loneliness and thoughts on isolation, Otsu is an overt instance of the young, changing personality in the newly modern era of Japan. The main premise that Those Unforgettable People revolves around is the book that Otsu is writing. His book is about people that he meets during his travels around Japan, but the quirky trait of his writings is that they revolve around people he has had little to no contact with.

In years past it may have been appropriate only to write about those people with whom he had had substantial contact with, but in the new modern era in Japan, Otsu instead chose to focus on those people with whom he met only briefly, or not at all. This focus on lack of contact issues to readers an image of the isolation and independent thought which the modern era had brought to the newly opened island nation of Japan.

The innkeeper that Otsu meets at the beginning of the story is one of the aforementioned examples of Doppo’s acknowledgement of an era now gone by. The innkeeper that Otsu would later write about in his book did not greet Otsu with the respect that one would expect from the proprietor of an inn. The innkeeper was immediately suspicious of Otsu simply because of the manner in which he was dressed, in “western clothing” as Doppo tells readers.

The innkeeper’s behavior towards Otsu is a magnificent example of the change in eras through generations. While Otsu is a man in his late twenties, and therefore more receptive to the changes going on in the nation, the innkeeper is considerably older, and therefore more likely to cling to traditions of the past. This dichotomy between the two generations displayed by Doppo exemplifies how rapidly changes in Japan were taking place around the turn of the 20th century.



The subject matter of Otsu’s writing is the most identifiable of the modern traits possessed by the character, but there are many more facets of Otsu’s being that lead readers to recognize how modern Doppo’s story is. The fact that Otsu and the man he met at the inn, Akiyama Matsunosuke, were able to stay up late into the night talking shows readers the change in climate from a livelihood standpoint in Japan at the time. During the pre-modern era situations such as this most probably would not have happened due to the fact that most people had their pre-determined position in life, and therefore would have had work to do the next day, regardless of their social status. In this story however, the two young men are merely traveling around Japan with no responsibilities that can be determined, certainly a departure from the pre-modern society of only a few decades previous.

The men talk about art, literature, religion, and more, well into the night, and these topics of conversation themselves show readers how modern these men both were to be educated in such diverse matters. At points during the conversation Otsu does not even hear what Akiyama is saying due to the fact that he is wrapped up in thoughts of his own, a reflection of modern thought and independence. At one point, while discussing his manuscript, Otsu even cries, an action that would surely have been unacceptable around strangers in the pre-modern era. Akiyama’s acknowledgement of these tears is followed by an even more modern revelation when he asks Otsu to read the manuscript to him. Akiyama says that, “I shall listen as the representative of the readers of the world”, a significant display of awareness of society outside of the borders of Japan, and something that would not have been said a few decades earlier when Japan’s borders were still sealed off from the global community.

Otsu’s concession that “thinking is a trait of the young” coupled with his recognition of “life as a miracle” lend credibility to not only his awareness of modernity, but to the idea that the generational gap presented through the innkeeper is a deliberate and pragmatic use of modernity by Doppo. The simple idea that Otsu is moved by the tragedy of the world and the voice of the monk in Mitsugahama shows readers once again how modern his thoughts and ideas are.

Doppo’s representation of Mitsugahama itself is another exemplary display of modernity in Those Unforgettable People. His descriptive prose of the environment, as well as his illustration of the town as a bustling market of economy rather than a village dependent on farming or fishing lend to the air of modernity that permeates the whole story. Even lines such as, “pungent smells assailed my nostrils fanned in the breeze made by sleeves and hems as people rushed hither and thither” exhibit Doppo’s keen sense of modern thinking; ideas that wind currents are created by man, rather than by nature are domineeringly modern.

Doppo has succeeded with Those Unforgettable People in crafting an early masterpiece of modern Japanese literature through not only his observations on landscape, but more importantly through his ability to convey his characters thoughts and emotions in a modern time. His locations such as the marketplace in Mitsugahama, his juxtaposition of characters such as the innkeeper and Otsu, and his revealing of modern concepts through independent thought helped to usher in a modern era of literature in Japan, and the importance of Those Unforgettable People should never be understated.

There is an interesting article up on msn today about the inevitable change in the way that children are taught in today's digital world. It involves the gradual decline in the use of cursive writing, and the teaching of it, in school systems today. There is a revealing history of penmanship and the way in which it has metamorphosized over the last few generations. This metamorphosis has now culminated in a debate over whether cursive should even be taught to school age children anymore, as there is more urgency for them to learn about technology through the use of computers.

This becomes an issue of priority now for school systems; which is more important, children learning to write in cursive, or having hands-on experience with computers? Well, seeing as how writing in cursive is a skill that has been obsolete for at least the last 20+ years or so since I learned it, coupled with the fact that I learn something new about computers on a weekly basis, my opinion is that computers should take precedence. Learning to write in cursive was always more of a novelty than anything else, and that time could be allotted more usefully in school systems around the country. The opportunities in life for one to utilize their ability to write in cursive are far less frequent than for displaying prowess in and around computers.

Learning to write is still undoubtedly one of the most valuable skills a person will ever know, but is the style in which they write so terribly important? As senior associate at the International Center for Leadership and Education James Miles says in the article, "The Old English writing of calligraphy was a way of writing at one point. We got away from that to a more expedient way and I think this is just a progression."

I could not agree more, especially in an ever-changing digital age where technology is rapidly replacing skills that were once deemed important, and showing us that they were not.