VIDEO – Motion Studies #24: The Spielberg Face

VIDEO – Motion Studies #24: The Spielberg Face

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Five: Auteur Studies

As auteur theory remains a central component of film studies, the medium of online video generates new perspectives and approaches to understanding the director’s vision and process. One remarkable aspect that can be found in this selection of videos is the extent to which the format allows the video creators to personalize their appreciation of a director’s work. These videos convey the creator’s individualized perspective through their narration or editing techniques, as well as the act of appearing on screen, even as they consciously incorporate or mimic the style of the director. This interplay between the creator and their subject gives video auteur studies a unique quality of its own.

Today's selection:

The Spielberg Face
Kevin B. Lee (2011)

Read a French translation of this video by Rachid Oudad.

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO – Motion Studies #23: Dreaming of Jeannie: John Ford’s STAGECOACH

VIDEO – Motion Studies #23: Dreaming of Jeannie: John Ford’s STAGECOACH

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Five: Auteur Studies

As auteur theory remains a central component of film studies, the medium of online video generates new perspectives and approaches to understanding the director’s vision and process. One remarkable aspect that can be found in this selection of videos is the extent to which the format allows the video creators to personalize their appreciation of a director’s work. These videos convey the creator’s individualized perspective through their narration or editing techniques, as well as the act of appearing on screen, even as they consciously incorporate or mimic the style of the director. This interplay between the creator and their subject gives video auteur studies a unique quality of its own.

Today's selection:

Dreaming of Jeannie: John Ford's Stagecoach
Tag Gallagher (2003)

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO – MOTION STUDIES #22: Apichatpong Weerasethakul: Reverse Shot Talkies

VIDEO – MOTION STUDIES #22: Apichatpong Weerasethakul: Reverse Shot Talkies

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Five: Auteur Studies

As auteur theory remains a central component of film studies, the medium of online video generates new perspectives and approaches to understanding the director’s vision and process. One remarkable aspect that can be found in this selection of videos is the extent to which the format allows the video creators to personalize their appreciation of a director’s work. These videos convey the creator’s individualized perspective through their narration or editing techniques, as well as the act of appearing on screen, even as they consciously incorporate or mimic the style of the director. This interplay between the creator and their subject gives video auteur studies a unique quality of its own.

Today's selection:

Apichatpong Weerasethakul: Reverse Shot Talkies #27 

Eric Hynes talks to Palme d'Or–winning filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul (UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES) about the Thai jungle, time and duration, and the transformative qualities of life and cinema. Part of a series of videos produced by the website Reverse Shot that take playful, innovative approaches to the video interview format.

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO – Motion Studies #21: Outer Space

VIDEO – Motion Studies #21: Outer Space

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Four: Precursors: TV, Cinema, Contemporary Art

There is a a tradition of “Videographic Film Studies” that existed before the Internet. Some TV channels, like the West-German WDR, but also TV programmers in other countries, initiated an impressive variety of programmes on cinema that combined thorough analytical observations with an inventiveness of visual forms and techniques. Found footage has also been used in experimental cinema and contemporary art. Most examples of this audiovisual legacy remain either overlooked or invisible as they are stacked away in archives or private catalogues. For this reason, this episode mostly gathers fragments and snippets instead of entire essays.

Today's selection:

Outer Space 

Peter Tscherkassky (1999)

"Cannibalizing Sidney J Furie's 1982 Barbara Hershey horror film The Entity, the story of a woman who is continually assaulted and raped either by real ghosts or by awfully adept repressed traumas… The screen literally explodes with a tumult of Hershey faces, shattering Steve Burum's original cinematography into shards of frightened eyes, trembling hands, and violent outbursts of self-defense, presented in multiple exposures too layered to count, too arresting to ignore. Each frame is further entangled with details revealed by a jittery effect (a primitive traveling matte?) which spills fluttering ectoplasmic lightpools from one cubist aspect of the woman to another. The filmmaker mimics the action of nightmares by condensing the original imagery of the feature and displacing it into a new narrative — as in dreams, a narrative not explicitly linked to actual events, but emotionally more true than any rational explanation. Tscherkassky's shorts are actually considerably more terrifying than the original material."
– Guy Maddin

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO ESSAY: Ceylan’s Faces – A Portrait Gallery of Three Films

VIDEO ESSAY: Ceylan’s Faces – A Portrait Gallery of Three Films

Who are the greatest directors of faces in movie history? When you think of great films that could double as portrait art, there’s Carl Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc, Ingmar Bergman’s Persona, and just about any film by Federico Fellini or Robert Bresson, to name a few. Of course there are countless movies graced by memorable faces, enabled by expressive performers and highly talented cameramen and crew. But what sets the films listed above apart from the glamourous pack is a specific, individualized way of looking at a face. It’s a vision that does more than express beauty, but conveys an idea of people and how to look not just at them, but into them. All of those aforementioned directors have passed on, so who today carries this torch?

Although I’ve previously paid tribute to the unmistakable portrait art talents of Steven Spielberg, here I bring attention to the recent work of Nuri Bilge Ceylan, arguably the most accomplished filmmaker to ever emerge from Turkey. His last four films have all won prizes at the Cannes Film Festival, with the most recent, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, sure to make many top ten lists this year. (Ceylan will be receiving Cannes Directors’ Fortnight Carrosse d’Or prize in 2012.)

Much has been written about his films’ masterful explorations into the dark mysteries of human behavior, set against a canvas of stunningly composed visuals. For me, the anchor point that joins together his world of shadowy emotions and precise visuals are the many gorgeous shots of human faces. This video essay assembles several of these shots into a kind of moving portrait gallery, exploring this motif through his last three films, Climates, Three Monkeys and Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (the first two titles are available on Fandor). Of course the images wouldn’t be possible without the consistently stunning work of cinematographer Gökhan Tiryaki, as well as a revolving ensemble of professionals and non-professionals alike, each graced with their own distinct visage.

Originally published on Fandor. Read the full essay companion to the video.

VIDEO – Motion Studies #19 and #20: “Telephones” and “Home Stories”

VIDEO – Motion Studies #19 and #20: “Telephones” and “Home Stories”

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Four: Precursors: TV, Cinema, Contemporary Art

There is a a tradition of “Videographic Film Studies” that existed before the Internet. Some TV channels, like the West-German WDR, but also TV programmers in other countries, initiated an impressive variety of programmes on cinema that combined thorough analytical observations with an inventiveness of visual forms and techniques. Found footage has also been used in experimental cinema and contemporary art. Most examples of this audiovisual legacy remain either overlooked or invisible as they are stacked away in archives or private catalogues. For this reason, this episode mostly gathers fragments and snippets instead of entire essays.

Today's selections:

Home Stories 
Matthias Muller (1990)
The most unmistakable forerunners of the supercut come from the end of the 20th and start of the 21st century. For Home Stories (1990), Matthias Müller fashioned an elliptical narrative out of a host of very similar scenes from Hollywood melodramas. Pastel-decked women linger in large, well-ornamented rooms, all lying down, throwing their heads back and forth, hearing something, turning on a lamp, looking shocked, slamming doors. Funny in their sameness, the women also unearth a disturbed core to the gilded dreams of ‘50s America. 
– Tom McCormack, Moving Image Source

Telephones
Christian Marclay (1995)
Christian Marclay's "Telephones" (1995), a 7 1/2-minute compilation of brief Hollywood film clips that creates a narrative of its own. These linked-together snippets of scenes involve innumerable well-known actors such as Cary Grant, Tippi Hedren, Ray Milland, Humphrey Bogart and Meg Ryan, who dial, pick up the receiver, converse, react, say good-bye and hang up. In doing so, they express a multitude of emotions–surprise, desire, anger, disbelief, excitement, boredom–ultimately leaving the impression that they are all part of one big conversation. The piece moves easily back and forth in time, as well as between color and black-and-white, aided by Marclay's whimsical notions of continuity.
– From description on YouTube 

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO ESSAY: Doris Wishman: The First Lena Dunham

Doris Wishman: The First Lena Dunham

In just a few short years, Lena Dunham has quickly made a name for herself in the indie film scene.  In 2010 she caught everyone at the SXSW Film Festival by surprise with her detached but deeply personal debut Tiny Furniture.  She was heralded as the Woody Allen of our generation (or rather, of a generation), and landed at the top of the so-called Mumblecore movement.  Two years later Dunham returned to SXSW with the first three episodes of her new HBO series, Girls, which premieres April 15th.  The event also marked the release of Tiny Furniture on DVD, which could be considered to be the ultimate accomplishment for Dunham or any fledgling filmmaker: acceptance into the Criterion Collection.  (For more insight on the topic Dunham gave a very revealing interview with IndieWire's own Nigel M Smith.)

When Criterion first announced that Tiny Furniture would be in the collection, the decision to include Dunham with such esteemed filmmakers came as quite a surprise to many (who troll the Internet), and even more surprising was the announcement that Dunham was developing a series with HBO, and beyond that, Judd Apatow would serve as producer.  Although it may have seemed to some as if Dunham sold out, Girls is very much a continuation of Tiny Furniture.  Dunham's style is indicative of what independent film has become in the new century:  personal character studies, naturalist, improvised performances in sometimes aimless narratives, all produced on a micro-budget level.  The term Mumblecore itself may be irrelevant at this point, but that label certainly helped a lot of filmmakers get more exposure in a market that relies heavily on categorization.  Dunham has had a privileged upbringing, but her films remain grounded and self-aware.  Dunham is also aware of the implications of setting Girls in New York City, the old stomping grounds of Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City.  The story revolves around Hanna (played by Dunham) and her friends as they try to make do in the big city.  Although Dunham's Girls may have been influenced by Sex and the City, it is much more in tune with the generation it portrays.  Playing with the cultural cliché of a girl coming to NY to seek her fortune, Girls might just be the antidote to Bradshaw's artificial quest for love and fame.

Now that I've got your attention with something currently relevant, I'd like to talk about another woman whose films closely resemble Dunham's work and (forgive me) the Mumblecore aesthetic.  Doris Wishman was one of the most prolific female directors working in the sexploitation genre in the 1960s.  In fact, she may have been the only woman working in the field at that time, at least behind the camera.  She began her career making "nudie-cutie" films like Nude on the Moon and Gentlemen Prefer Nature Girls.  Set in Florida's nudist communities, Wishman's early films were loosely tied narratives, haphazardly thrown together for the sole purpose of showing semi-clad (and usually middle-aged) men and women sitting around a pool, playing volleyball, checkers, and other mundane activities.  Like most nudist films, the mere fact that they are partially nude does nothing to make the films more exciting.  In fact, the majority of the films in the nudie-cutie genre are completely unwatchable.  What makes Wishman's films exemplary is her seemingly complete disregard for narrative structure and continuity.  Appropriately regarded as “The Female Ed Wood,” Wishman's work was so poorly executed that it amazes me that she was able to continue for nearly half a century.  But there is a genuine innocence in her work, and a strong visual style that makes her work distinctive.  Albeit unintentionally, her films almost reach levels of paracinematic genius.  She worked cheaply, using non-professional actors (or anyone willing to take their clothes off in front of a camera), shot repeatedly in her own home, dubbed most of the characters with her own voice, and produced completely without outside investors.  Wishman was always able to conform to the shifting demands in the sexploitation market, relying on gimmicks to keep audiences coming (pun intended).

In the mid-sixties Wishman relocated to New York City, which marked a drastic change in her work.  Known as her "roughie" period, these films became much more ambitious but also entered into much darker territory.  Harmless titles like Diary of a Nudist and Hideout in the Sun were replaced by Bad Girls Go to Hell and Indecent Desires.  These films usually centered around a guileless sylph who spirals down to sexual degradation and shame.  The first film in her Roughie Cycle, the wonderfully titled The Sex Perils of Paulette, focuses on an innocent country girl being corrupted by the big city.  In many ways the film is allegorical to Wishman's own life; she left Florida's sunny beaches after a messy divorce forced her to seek out her new life in NYC.  Paulette arrives in the Big Apple with dreams of finding love, success, and becoming a better person.  Once there, Paulette falls into a bad crowd of sexual deviants and sadists.  Like Carrie Bradshaw, Paulette finds her Mr. Big in Tony Lo Bianco, but denies herself the happiness of a normal relationship because NYC has turned her into a "bad girl."

Much like Dunham, Wishman frequently shows us scenes of women inexplicably standing around in their underwear (black lace, a Wishman trademark).  When we are introduced to Tracy (the incomparable Darlene Bennett), Paulette's new flatmate, the camera starts on her face, then slowly moves down to show off her body.  In the film, Wishman abruptly cuts from images like these to images of various knickknacks that happen to be nearby, or sometimes the camera will just sort of meander away.  Although the film was obviously made for men to rub one out in a dark grindhouse theatre, Wishman seemingly avoided all the 'money shots' by inserting images of feminine desires, or as in this case, by showing off the interior of her house.  Scenes are often cut out of sequence, much like Jean Luc Godard's Pierrot le fou, which coincidentally was released the same year as Sex Perils.  Although it is highly unlikely that Wishman was aware of Godard's work and the distancing techniques of the nouvelle vague, Wishman seemed to have tapped into the creative consciousness at that particular cultural moment and interpreted them in her own unique way.  Wishman made her narratives even more complicated than those of the New Wave style.   Since Wishman used silent film stock, she often relied on reaction shots, so that she could dub her own voice in afterwards, seemingly improvising the voice-over narration after she edited the footage together.  The result is a bizarre, almost surreal exercise in anti-erotica, completely composed of reaction shots and random cutaways.  Wishman didn't seem to have much interest in sex. Instead she focused on potted plants, radios, beauty accessories, and lots of foot shots, with just enough accidental yonic imagery to validate its cinematic worth and allow film students like Lena Dunham to keep turning in term papers. While it might amuse some film students to ironically distance themselves from Wishman's work, it could be just as rewarding to simply accept Wishman's bizarre world view like that of any other auteur.

Doris Wishman had 30 films to her credit, although the exact number is uncertain, since she used multiple aliases, and in some cases disowned certain titles that she wasn't happy with.  She would also rerelease her films with different titles to make a quick buck.  She eventually dipped into hardcore in the late seventies (although Wishman was adamantly opposed to it, supposedly leaving the room whenever hardcore scenes were shot).  When hardcore pornography became too extreme, Wishman gave up her career as a filmmaker and returned to Florida, getting a job at a cosmetics store.  Her career comeback came long after the sexploitation market had dissolved.  Thanks to the home video market, Wishman was able to enjoy a brief return to filmmaking with Dildo Heaven in 2002.  Sadly, Doris passed away while making her final film, Each Time I Kill later that same year.  John Waters helped to release the film posthumously in 2007 and has a cameo as well, as does B-52's frontman Fred Schneider, but no DVD is available at this time.  Criterion should just release all the unedited footage as a supplemental feature, much like Charles Laughton Directs Night of the Hunter—it would be an outstanding document of a genius at work.  Wishman's legacy needs proper recognition if we are to truly appreciate Dunham's Girls and the evolution of the girl-in-the-city subgenre.  An Eclipse set of Wishman's Roughie Cycle would be an ideal starting point for Criterion, followed by a set dedicated to her nudie-cutie films.  Should Criterion decide to include Wishman in the collection for a mainline release, The Sex Perils of Paulette would be the perfect choice.

Robert Nishimura is a Japan-based filmmaker, artist, and freelance designer. Born and raised in Panamá, he then moved to the US, working at the University of Pittsburgh and co-directing Life During Wartime, a short-lived video collective for local television. After fleeing to Japan, he co-founded the Capi Gallery in Western Honshu before becoming a permanent resident. He currently is designing for DVD distributors in Japan and the US, making short and feature films independently, and is a contributing artist for the H.P. France Group and their affiliate companies. All of his designs can be found at Primolandia Productions and his non-commercial video work is at For Criterion Consideration.

VIDEO ESSAY: Clint Eastwood and His Iconic Side View Profile

VIDEO ESSAY: Clint Eastwood and His Iconic Side View Profile

“The human face is the great subject of the cinema. Everything is there.” – Ingmar Bergman

The craggy complexion. The stately ovate chin. Those thin lips deceptively wrapped around that charming smile. That perfect nose. Those clear greenish-brown eyes. That squint.

One cannot discuss Clint Eastwood's iconic stature in film without mentioning his face. There are other faces that have been as handsome (Newman), masculine (Gable), striking (Hitchcock), fearsome (Bronson), and symbolic (Wayne). But from a visual standpoint, none of them have been as instrumental as a filmmaking tool or signature. Most actors are cast to fill in a character from the inside out, building an individual based on the personal. But Eastwood himself is a form. An absent presence whose persona is filled primarily by the film’s themes and ideas.

Clint Eastwood’s “side view” profile is probably the most recognizable visage in cinema. On the one hand, it is the picture of a supremely good-looking and rugged individual. On the other, it is the quintessential outline of a man’s man, whatever that ideal might be: a tool that Eastwood uses to better effect than any actor could or would ever dare to try.

The first true film in which Eastwood’s profile became noticeable was in Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars. On casting Eastwood, Leone said, “I looked at him and I didn’t see any character… just a physical figure.” In that sense, Eastwood might have been the perfect choice for the film. With Leone’s penchant for extreme close-ups of his characters’ faces, often exposed to the extreme heat of the desert, Eastwood's rough complexion would reflect the barrenness of his environment. His “Hollywood” looks amongst his often less-than-handsome Italian co-stars would only further enhance his visual uniqueness.

With the succeeding For a Few Dollars More and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Clint Eastwood in a cowboy hat would become the image of the Western Anti-Hero: unpredictable in his actions, but always of noble intent. It would be the template that would follow him for most of his career. This profile would be passed from Sergio Leone’s “man with no name” to Don Siegel’s Dirty Harry.

But Siegel didn’t merely carry on the tradition. He also introduced to Eastwood another artist who would help shape Clint’s persona: Bruce Surtees, the renowned cinematographer called the “Prince of Darkness" in professional circles. Eastwood had strong directorial inclinations by this time. And with his founding of Malpaso Productions, further collaborations with Siegel and Surtees made them grow closer, personally and artistically.

Bruce Surtees's refined use of shadow was perfect for Eastwood’s profile. With Surtees's lighting expertise, Clint’s characters, often half-covered in black, suddenly had the additional qualities of menace (Dirty Harry, High Plains Drifter), disrepute (Tightrope), secrecy (Firefox) and struggle (The Outlaw Josey Wales, Honkytonk Man).

Clint clearly learned much from Surtees, as he applied the same techniques to his subsequent films. Who can forget Maggie and Frankie’s conversation about her pet dog while driving beneath dancing lights in Million Dollar Baby? Sgt. Tom Highway’s silhouette while leading a platoon in Heartbreak Ridge? The ominous shadows enveloping Will Munny in Unforgiven? Sometimes Eastwood used his profile in unexpected roles, such as the sleek fighter pilot Mitchell Gant in Firefox, or as the over-aged astronaut Frank Corvin in Space Cowboys. Other times he used it as emotional “filler” for a sparse storyline, embodying it with great pathos despite an economy of style or feeling elsewhere in the movie (Escape From Alcatraz).

Great actors are remarkable in their ability to embody characters that we recognize and believe, simply by looking in our direction. But Clint Eastwood’s face is in a class by itself; astonishing in its capability to serve as both character and cinematic imprint, simply by looking away.

Credits: Thanks to Donald G. Carder (@theangrymick) and Senses of Cinema (@SensesOfCinema) for additional research material.

Michael Mirasol is a Filipino independent film critic who has been writing about films for the past eleven years. He briefly served as film critic for the Manila Times and now writes occasionally for Uno Magazine and his blog The Flipcritic. Last year he was named by Roger Ebert as one of his "Far Flung Correspondents", and continues to contribute written and video essays on film.

VIDEO – Motion Studies #18: Los Angeles Plays Itself

VIDEO – Motion Studies #18: Los Angeles Plays Itself

From now through April, the Oberhausen International Short Film Festival will present "Film Studies in Motion", a Web Series curated by Volker Pantenburg and Kevin B. Lee. This series, available on the festival's website and Facebook page, presents weekly selections of analytical video essays on the web, in preparation for Pantenberg and Lee's presentation  "Whatever happened to Bildungsauftrag? – Teaching cinema on TV and the Web", scheduled for April 28 at the festival.

Week Four: Precursors: TV, Cinema, Contemporary Art

There is a a tradition of “Videographic Film Studies” that existed before the Internet. Some TV channels, like the West-German WDR, but also TV programmers in other countries, initiated an impressive variety of programmes on cinema that combined thorough analytical observations with an inventiveness of visual forms and techniques. Found footage has also been used in experimental cinema and contemporary art. Most examples of this audiovisual legacy remain either overlooked or invisible as they are stacked away in archives or private catalogues. For this reason, this episode mostly gathers fragments and snippets instead of entire essays.

Today's selection:

Los Angeles Plays Itself 
Thom Andersen (2003)

Thom Anderson's features Eadweard Muybridge, Zoopraxographer (1974), Red Hollywood (1996) and Los Angeles Plays Himself (2003) place him as a leading motion picture essayist and historian. Compiled from hundreds of clips from movies filmed in Los Angeles, Los Angeles Plays Itself explores the history, mythology and reality of Los Angeles as depicted in the movies. Originally intended as a private instructional tool for use in Andersen's lectures on film, the film was released theatrically and is frequently cited as one of the best documentaries of the 2000s.

View all Motion Studies video selections.

Volker Pantenburg is assistant professor for moving images at the media faculty of the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar. 

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.

VIDEO: The Hardcore History Lessons of Koji Wakamatsu

VIDEO: The Hardcore History Lessons of Koji Wakamatsu

WARNING: This video contains explicit sexual and violent content and is intended for mature audiences. Parental discretion is advised.

Koji Wakamatsu—known as the Godfather of the pink movie, a genre of Japanese softcore exploitation films that started in the 1960s—has made over 100 movies, and is enjoying the most acclaimed period of his career thanks to two recent films that have much more on their mind than sex. Both films, United Red Army (2007) and Caterpillar (2010), are available on Fandor. This video essay explores how these films amount to hardcore history lessons: Wakamatsu uses low-budget exploitation filmmaking techniques to cast a critical eye on Japanese history during periods of prevailing militant ideology, as well as a brutally honest assessment of human nature.

Originally published on Fandor. Read a transcript of this video.

Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter.