Brian De Palma is perhaps best known as the director behind the gangster classic Scarface . Yet as ingrained as Scarface is in American popular culture, it is but one of a sizeable number of controversial films—many of which are consistently misread or ignored—directed by De Palma over his more than four-decade career. In Un-American Psycho, Chris Dumas places De Palma’s body of work in dialogue with the works of other provocative filmmakers, including Alfred Hitchcock, Jean-Luc Godard, and Francis Ford Coppola with the aim of providing a broader understanding of the narrative, stylistic, and political gestures that characterize De Palma’s filmmaking. De Palma’s films engage with a wide range of issues surrounding American political and social culture, and this volume offers a rethinking of the received wisdom on his work.
A book of tremendous insight, incendiary reasoning, and truly dazzling literacy, it blasts open a pathway to considering De Palma central to the fraught discipline of Film Studies while at the same time challenging the politics of post-1960s humanities scholarship, the New Left, and Grant Theory. Whatever conclusions one takes away from it, Dumas’s brilliantly engaging writing is an absolute delight from start to finish, his recursive layers of clearly framed self-reflexivity perfectly complementing the labyrinthine organization of De Palma’s films — which I now can’t wait to revisit in full.
At this point I basically have an entire small shelf devoted to books about Brian De Palma. If you do not also have an entire small shelf devoted to books about Brian De Palma, this one is probably not for you (yet).
First off, this is way more academic than what I typically read when it comes to film studies. It is very clearly a modified dissertation being presented as a publication for the masses, right down to the absolutely hideous cover and the idiotic size and shape of the book. Dumas knows his shit when it comes to film criticism and theory, and I most decidedly do not know my shit in this area, but I'm enough of a movie nerd to pick up on the majority of what's being referenced here. Prerequisites include having seen all or most of De Palma's work, having a strong familiarity with Hitchcock, and having at least somewhat of a solid understanding of Godard and what his films represent in terms of technique and politics.
What I appreciate most about this analysis is that Dumas brings a keen critical eye to a filmmaker who has been repeatedly failed by critics over the course of his entire career. Not only is the technical perfection behind De Palma's craft recognized here; Dumas also engages with the idea that perhaps BDP's films aren't all just schlocky, misogynistic ripoffs of other directors' work, as so many of his opponents tend to categorize them. Obviously, at this point many of the classics have been recognized as such - Blow Out, Dressed to Kill, and Scarface come to mind - but how long will it take for the world to come around to the masterful Raising Cain? Also, has Body Double been fully rediscovered yet? If so, do critics recognize any of its brilliance beyond a surface level analysis?
And that's really what Dumas is addressing here - the challenge of extracting meaning from a catalogue of great movies that may initially appear to have less depth than what we usually expect from one of the all-time masters of the form. His arguments, far-reaching as some of them may be, convinced me of a political dimension to some of De Palma's work that I previously did not recognize despite multiple viewings of most of his films. The book also gave me a deeper appreciation of some of the references De Palma packs into his stuff, how so much of his homage is truly a conversation with the artists who have inspired his work - not simply a copy/paste job, as many seem to believe.
As a top review states, you already know if you're the target audience for this one. If so, grab it without hesitation.
Outstanding! I’ve now read this book twice and it is one of the few truly indispensable works of film scholarship I’ve come across. In addition to articulating never-before-published insights about Brian De Palma’s singular filmography, Chris Dumas uses the movies (primarily Sisters, Dressed To Kill, Scarface, Body Double and Casualties of War) and the discourse surrounding them as a mirror to inspire meaningful reflection on the personal baggage and biases we bring to reading (or misreading) complicated works of art. By working through and seeing beyond the many misleading and counterproductive pathways of film criticism, Un-American Psycho establishes an analytical methodology and clarity of thought that is uncommonly provocative and applicable to reading any film — not just the films of De Palma.
Finally someone who understands De Palma wrote a book. Although it can be academic at times (with a long preamble about varied schisms inside film studies) when the author gets down to the films and De Palma's methodologies and filmic philosophies it's riveting. It really made me go back and re-watch his films (particularly Blow-Out) with a new appreciation.
Not just a brilliant, witty, and fresh analysis of De Palma's frequently misunderstood filmography, but also an insightful examination of the significant trends and critical blind spots within the field of film studies. A fascinating, must-read work for anyone with an interest in the cinema.
Some of the best and most thoughtful film criticism I can recall reading. Maybe not necessarily the biggest page-turner I’ve come across as it can be somewhat dense at parts and I candidly don’t care quite as much for the very Inside Baseball asides into the history of film studies but I still remained engaged throughout.
BDP is my favorite director and though much of his filmography has gradually started to be reclaimed/re-examined over the last 10-20 years since this was published I still feel he isn’t nearly talked about or examined enough in a critical context beyond his handful of more popular canonized works and his reputation as le horny split-diopter man who really likes Hitchcock. This book provides a very worthy analysis into his cynical leftist politics and underrated talents as a sharp-witted satirist and does good work to characterize him as a student of Godard/Bunuel just as much as he is of Hitchcock. Would strongly recommend to anybody who considers themselves an acolyte of De Palma or just an appreciator of good film criticism in general
While the second chapter leaves a little to be desired - focusing so on De Palma's early career stretches beyond the limits of its relevancy - the rest of this book is without question the best auteurist study of the last twenty years.
Fascinating look into the world of Film Studies, which I very quickly discovered I know absolutely nothing about. Book definitely piqued my interest in Brian De Palma films.
Fascinating when it deals with De Palma's (or Hitchcock's, or Godard's) films; a little less so when it discourses on film studies as a field of academic study.