Rudolf Arnheim, the author of seminal film theory text Film As Art, died in June at the age of 102. Like Chris Campbell, I’m just finding this out now, but as Arnheim was one of the few theorists whose work I really connected to in grad school, I thought a late mention was better than none at all. A few essential Arnheim links follow after the jump.
This long obit, which appeared in The Independent last week, is a fine introduction to Arnheim’s work. Film as Art, which was first published in Germany in 1932 and subsequently banned by the Nazis, was very much a product of its time, with Arnheim arguing that Hollywood’s embrace of sound had essentially crippled cinema as an art form:
Arguing that it was the very limitations of film as an accurate recording medium which made it an art, and that film images therefore have no business aspiring to reality, Film als Kunst went on to find a wide and enduring readership in a revised and expanded American edition of 1957, Film as Art; although by then Arnheim had ironically long since turned his back on the cinema as a field of study.
His sense of film aesthetics had been formed as an admirer of the silent film in its maturity (”For me the silent film possessed great artistic purity of expression”) and he came to feel that “film has become a victim of the entertainment industry, which considers telling stories more important than form or expression”.
Film theorist/historian David Bordwell also wrote a lengthy tribute to Arnheim after his death, in which he suggested “aspiring film critics, and especially bloggers, should go back and read Arnheim on Keaton, Eisenstein, Gance, Pudovkin, Chaplin, von Sternberg, and other greats, as well as the essays ‘Style and monotony in film,’ ‘Epic and dramatic film,’ and especially ‘The Film Critic of Tomorrow.’”
The revised version of Film As Art, published in 1957, is available for online browsing on Google Books.
Jesus, I’m glad I read the first graf again. I randomly happened on your post and I jumped out of my skin— I thought Arnheim had just died from some kind of whammy I’d put on him just from mentioning him in an email to a couple of friends a few days ago of the why George Lucas sucks variety. I hadn’t thought about Arnheim or Film As Art in a few years, and I just assumed he’d passed on long ago. But it happened in June, OK, I’m fine now. Whew.
Anyway… yes, Lucas seems to think that the limitations of the medium are archaic, things to be vanquished by digital technology. Arnheim identified these “limitations” as the criteria for an artform. Still true after all these years. The discussion came up after seeing Blade Runner: The Final Cut. The deceased Roy Batty’s last scene is a close-up, with an out-of-focus Spinner rising slowly behind him: an abstraction of light and shadow which can be identified by the viewer already familiar with the behavior of said vehicle from previous scenes, though such a thing does not exist in reality. The plot moves quietly forward and the viewer realizes that Deckard is about to be rescued from the top of the building. Had George Lucas directed he would probably have been ham-fisted en ough to show the spinner and Batty and Deckard in sharp focus long-shot, thus flattening and ruining the dramatic effect in the service of effects-enabled “story clarity,” or the “geewhiz” factor.