Psychocinema reexamines the connection between psychoanalysis and film, arguing for a return to the universalist core of both cinema and subjectivity. It traces the history of the influence of psychoanalysis on cinema and shows how the detour into ideologies of identity and difference eclipses the premise of the first and the emancipatory power of the second.
The book argues that psychoanalysis does not simply help us elucidate what we see on rather, there is a fundamental relationship between the structure of psychoanalysis and that of cinema. Cinema acts upon the viewer like psychoanalysis upon the analysand and can expose them to the universal Lack inherent in their desire. This process undermines the unconscious logic of capitalism, which relies on a promise in fulfilment.
Rollins, a filmmaker, shows how reductive interpretations of psychoanalytic film theory have permeated film education and film practice and have affected the way films are made and watched, to the detriment of contemporary philosophy and politics. Psychocinema urges filmmakers, theorists and audiences to embrace the truly radical and emancipatory potential of its capacity to confront us with the universal Lack in our desire.
What, if any, emancipatory potential does the film form have? This is the question Helen Rollins' Psychocinema attempts to explore. Situated at the intersection of psychoanalysis and Hegelian dialectics, Psychocinema prioritizes the "Analyst's Discourse" as a means of understanding film's emancipatory potential (3). According to Rollins, "the Analyst's Discourse works according to the unconscious, affective and libidinal dynamics of the practice of psychoanalysis" (5). Rollins prefers the Analyst's Discourse because, unlike the University Discourse, which "makes its critiques at the level of consciousness," it reckons with the unconscious in ways the other discourses do not (5). With that said, this book needs more commentary about and exploration of Lacan's discourses.
Because of Rollins' emphasis on the unconscious, Psychocinema possesses "an openness toward contradiction in the understanding of film" (7). That is to say, "film" can expose "our reality back to us [and] can reveal—intentionally or not—the symptoms of our collective disquiet" (13). Psychoanalysis teaches that subjectivity is the often uncomfortable process of grappling with lack, the impossibility of mastery, and the contradictions that follow such reckonings. At its best, film exposes us to these ideas "in generative and enjoyable ways" (13).
Despite the dominance of capitalism as both an economic and philosophic system, film (as an industry defined by its drive for capital accumulation) has the potential to shift the subject's understanding of itself, but film does this on psychoanalytic, not political grounds. Rollins writes, "Film is not political in its representational qualities, but in its psychoanalytic characteristics. Unless art transforms the libido, it remains within the capitalist register" (109). According to Rollins, film does this in several ways, from revealing the divided, lacking nature of the Other to dramatizing the subject's accumulation of jouissance by endlessly "circling...the lost object" (116). When film rejects dominant ideologies by unpacking them for what they are, film is both emancipatory and psychoanalytic. Consider, for example, the romantic comedy genre, an ideological construction that subliminally suggests the necessity of complementarianism for any romantic coupling to work. Through her reading of Phantom Thread, Rollins uncovers the emancipatory potential in sabotaging one's relationship. What fashion designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) wants from a foreign waitress named Alma Elson (Vicky Krieps), and what she wants from him, is not complementarianism (i.e., the imaginary ideal), despite what each character might say. Instead, by "sabotaging their relationship, they luxuriate in the fantasy of a perfect fit and do not realize that it is the imperfection of the other—that each seeks to dominate the other and have them yield to their own desire—that sustains that very desire" (120).
In its brevity, Psychocinema says something profound about film and what, when oritentated correctly, film can accomplish.
Very well done. Especially her use of Lacan in somewhat more colloquial language was very inspiring. She argues that it is film (and not for instance theory) that affords subjects a confrontation with their lack and their unconscious, which makes cinema the best medium at generating true (unconscious) political change. I am however not fully convinced by this hypothesis (even though I wish it were true), and I also think it puts too much pressure on a film to always be political (‘leftist’ propaganda cinema of the Soviet Union anyone?) to be ‘useful’ (which makes Rollins defend an argument which is very similar to the capitalist style of making films she is criticising). I did like that it was often not a full blown film analysis but rather some film blurbs here and there to support Lacanian and Hegelian theory.