by Johan Liedgren
johan@honkworm.com
(206) 605 2944
Yesterday I discovered a chapter of the C.G Jung Society, right here in Seattle. What got my attention was a lecture on "Post-Jungian Takes on the Moving Image" - Anima and Individuation in Films. Could be meaty. But beware of Jungians getting together after hours; there can be a strong cultish under-current to the enthusiastic following of Jung.
Initially, the event displayed all the sect-signs to watch out for. Firstly, it was scheduled to start at 7:30 PM on a Friday night. That says something about the crowd one wants to attract, as does a room relegated to a stuffy corner of the Good Shepard Center in Wallingford, down three narrow hallways covered with clip-art filled semi-public announcements and exposed phone wiring. As one of the first to arrive, I watched two men in their late sixties hunch over a video-projector, debating what cord goes where. $15 for admittance and another $20 for the speakers book "Jung and Film".
Then the other fifty attendees arrived and I cursed myself for getting lured in by a pop-culture topic. A very homogeneous crowd took their seats. Blessed with acute fashion ignorance it was not your average Bellevue gym-club demographic, in the best possible way. It seemed most of them knew each other from before, adding to my suspicion that the "leader" was soon going to appear and ask we all hold hands, get naked and donate money.
The leader was tonight's speaker, Christopher Hauke, from London, England. He looked like your typical college professor sporting dirty glasses, a worn jacket and bed-head. The second he started to speak I knew my sect-paranoia was unfounded. Humorous, passionate and articulate, Hauke used Blade Runner, American Beauty, Pleasantville, Truman Show, 2001 and American Graffiti to illustrate the post-Jungian take on film.
So what is the Jungian take on film? I am not as schooled as others who attended, but my Swedish peasant synopsis would go something like this: Look at film as closely related to dreams - an imaginal free-zone of sorts where the subconscious can act out what our conscious selves won't. Hauke, like other Jungians, sees the subconscious as compensatory. To grow we have to push through individuation (e.g. realizing ones true potential) by integrating sides of ourselves not given enough room in our consciousness, most often things we avoid. This explains why personal development sucks.
All good stories offer up a strong conflict between opposites. And onto these opposites we project different sides of ourselves, letting them fight it out in the imaginary world. This is why it is so important that we identify with the protagonist of the film. He is our proxy and we make his journey through the story our own. We know heroes don't die in the movies, yet we still bite our fingernails when he is faced with danger. Why? Because it is not the hero who is in real danger, it is us. This is why it helps to sit in a dark room when watching film, suspending reality long enough to complete the projection. In this dreamy state we can experience extreme feelings of loss, love, fear, embarrassment and triumph that we avoid in our daily lives for obvious reasons.
Does a Jungian take on film differ from a Freudian one? Sure. What fun would it be to belong to any school of anything if it wasn't against something else. The rift here between Freud and Jung centers around the definition of symbol. What is the meaning of the monolith in 2001 - A Space Odyssey? Freudians would take a semiotic approach searching for a single fixed interpretation, i.e. like a traffic sign. Jungians, on the other hand, would look at symbols as the expression of something unknown, triggering a strong and complex archetypal response in the viewer. The Jungian idea is to open up the discussion of film from a narrow analysis of what we recognize, to instead look for how it is meaningful for our own projection and how it participates in the individuation narrative.
When Hauke was done, the floor came alive with many complex and often witty theories of film-symbols we have all seen. What did the brutal ending of American Beauty say about individuation (Hauke, with a sad smile: "Realizing your true potential doesn't always lead to something desirable") Based on the questions, I would not be surprised if everyone but me in the room was a certified psychologist. Perhaps the most interesting discussion revolved around how aware a film maker must be of the symbols he uses for them to be effective. Most argued, the auteur is simply telling his story, ignorant of the symbolic grammar - and when done right, that non-manipulative directness is exactly why it is so meaningful to the most important constituent, the viewer.
I think it is reasonable to extrapolate from the Jungian perspective and argue that it does shed some light on the difference between American Beauty and say Walker, Texas Ranger. In the former, we live the individuation of the protagonist as he changes. In the later, we see no change in the protagonist. Some narratives takes us on a constructive journey where conflicts are resolved through the creation of something new. In Texas Ranger, evil and darkness are simply suppressed till the next episode, where we start over again. One is suppressive, the other therapeutic. Teach that at film-school. Please.
At closing of the lecture, someone mentioned an art-installation that would be open until 2 AM, performances under the heading "Making Sex". Using my active imagination, I pictured these fifty year old therapist piling into Honda Civics', passing around a reefer and heading down-town with Led Zeppelin cranked up. Not only did I leave the lecture inspired, I will also keep an eye open for future lectures at the Institute. And, if ever invited afterwards, I'll go party with these geezer Jung-heads any day.