Cut-pieces: celluloid obscenity and popular cinema in Bangladesh
Cut-pieces: celluloid obscenity and popular cinema in Bangladesh
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剪辑片段:赛璐珞淫秽与孟加拉国流行电影
DOI:
10.1080/23268743.2014.993571
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发表时间:
2015
期刊:
影响因子:
--
通讯作者:
D. Sreedhar
中科院分区:
文献类型:
--
作者:
D. Sreedhar
Lotte Hoek’s Cut-Pieces: Celluloid Obscenity and Popular Cinema in Bangladesh draws on media anthropology in an attempt to trace the varied lives of ‘cut-pieces’. Cut-pieces are ‘short strips of locally made uncertified celluloid containing sexual or violent imagery that appeared and disappeared abruptly from the reels of Bangladeshi action films’(p. 1) used by the filmmakers in Bangladesh as a marketable option to cash in on forbidden spectacles. Hoek focuses on the ‘unstable’nature of films with the insertions of cut-pieces and their ramifications in the contemporary mediascape in Bangladesh. She tracks cut-pieces as they traverse multiple spatial and temporal zones, bypassing censorship regulations, triggering off charges of obscenity and tampering with conventional modes of film production. Borrowing from Eric Schaefer’s argument about exploitation cinema in the United States (Schaefer 1999), Hoek makes a case for South Asian film industries, such as the one in Bangladesh, as a site fostering this trend of ‘cut-piece’cinema. She goes on to track the cycle of film production and consumption of the Bangladeshi cut-piece film, Mintu the Murderer (dir. Shahad Ali Shiplu, 2005, pseud.). This case study illustrates how the cut-piece phenomenon in Bangladesh is a Frankensteinish form created by the Bangladesh film industry to counter new forms of competition from global media. Hoek suggests that in a short period of time the cut-pieces began to function beyond their original value as a catalyst and brought about a shift in production patterns. Film producers in Dhaka started avoiding investment in films with high production costs and big stars, and started to focus instead on these lowbudget cut-piece films. Oscillating between temporary availability and invisibility, as a ploy to heighten their impact and evade moral censors, cut-pieces encapsulate many contradictory impulses within themselves. According to Hoek, cut-pieces come across as an ‘indication of the disintegration of Bangladeshi polity’(in spheres such as the law, family and party politics, for instance) and the ‘disintegration of the film making traditions’(p. 4)(seen in the proliferation of action films that exploit cutpieces to reap profits). Yet they ‘produce fantasies about this social disintegration as a titillating spectacle or noir vision through an obsessive focus on sex, often laced with violence’(p. 4). Hoek foregrounds the relevance of incorporating the labour involved in the production of these films. This focus allows Hoek to examine the operations of the workforce as they improvise and creatively engage with the production, distribution and exhibition of the films, using unorthodox methods to engage the censorial and moral regimes.Hoek mobilizes Taussig’s notion of the ‘public secret’to understand the status of the cut-piece as a means of parodying and subverting normative mores (p. 28). Her methodology complements her subject-matter as she tries to forge contacts with the editing assistants, cast, crew, representatives and exhibitors to hear the inside stories behind the making of the films, negotiating with these personnel much in the same way as they negotiate with the censors and the government. Throughout the book, Hoek tries to stay clear of the often taken-for-granted assumptions of obscenity in Bangladesh solely as a product of the Islamic morality. On the other hand, she persuasively argues for the need for scholarship that interrogates the aesthetics and