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Archive for the ‘Foreign Films’ Category

Hands Down – The Most Important Film Book of 2016

Friday, December 30th, 2016

Along with Bresson’s Notes on the Cinematograph, this is one of the essential film books of 2016.

Robert Bresson is one of the most mysterious, and yet the most accessible of filmmakers – much like his compatriots Yasujirō Ozu and Carl Th. Dreyer (forming writer / director Paul Schrader’s holy trinity of cinema). His classic, epigrammatic text Notes on the Cinematograph, first published in English in 1975 in an edition entitled Notes on Cinematography translated by Jonathan Griffin, has been out of print since its initial publication. I came across the first hardcover edition in a remainder pile at Brentano’s in New York in the early 1980s, going for $2 a copy. I bought five copies on the spot, and it remains on my shelf as one of the key books by any filmmaker on their work, stripped down to the essentials.

Now, New York Review Books has republished Notes on the Cinematograph in a new translation, back in print in a real edition – a very cheaply bound one circulated for a time a few years back – but just as importantly, they’ve gathered together interviews with the director on all of his films from 1943 to 1983, the year of his last film, L’Argent, along with a few supplementary texts written by those who worked with him, and with a selection of exceedingly rare production stills, in an essential text entitled simply Bresson on Bresson – Interviews, 1943–1983.

The result is mesmerizing; Bresson is absolutely modest, serious, and above all patient – my first takeaway from the volume was how extremely tolerant he was of the various interviewers who interrogated him over the years, asking the same questions again and again – how he used actors (or “models,” he called them), how he used as little music as possible, how his camera lingered on an empty space long after the actors had departed. Yet Bresson managed to turn even the most banal questions to his advantage, never passing up an opportunity to offer some fresh thoughts on his work.

Bresson on Bresson – Interviews, 1943–1983, translated from the French by Anna Moschovakis, edited by Mylène Bresson, with a preface by Pascal Mérigeau, offers an series of penetrating insights into the director’s work, and serves as a useful model for filmmakers today, in an era where spectacle and special effects have replaced, for the most part, thoughtful cinema.

As the NYRB notes,”Robert Bresson, the director of such cinematic master-pieces as Pickpocket, A Man Escaped, Mouchette, and L’Argent, was one of the most influential directors in the history of French film, as well as one of the most stubbornly individual: He insisted on the use of nonprofessional actors; he shunned the ‘advances’ of Cinerama and CinemaScope (and the work of most of his predecessors and peers); and he minced no words about the damaging influence of capitalism and the studio system on the still-developing—in his view—art of film.

Bresson on Bresson collects the most significant interviews that Bresson gave (carefully editing them before they were released) over the course of his forty-year career to reveal both the internal consistency and the consistently exploratory character of his body of work. Successive chapters are dedicated to each of his fourteen films, as well as to the question of literary adaptation, the nature of the sound track, and to Bresson’s one book, the great aphoristic treatise Notes on the Cinematograph.

Throughout, his close and careful consideration of his own films and of the art of film is punctuated by such telling mantras  as ‘Sound…invented silence in cinema,’ ‘It’s the film that…gives life to the characters—not the characters that give life to the film,’ and (echoing the Bible) ‘Every idle word shall be counted.’

Bresson’s integrity and originality earned him the admiration of younger directors from Jean-Luc Godard and Jacques Rivette to Olivier Assayas. And though Bresson’s movies are marked everywhere by an air of intense deliberation, these interviews show that they were no less inspired by a near-religious belief in the value of intuition, not only that of the creator but that of the audience, which he claims to deeply respect: ‘It’s always ready to feel before it understands. And that’s how it should be.’”

Anyone even remotely interested in film should buy this volume immediately, along with the republished text of Notes on the Cinematograph, as a useful tonic to the current ultra-commercial cinematic landscape. As Alan Pavelin wrote in Senses of Cinema long ago, “Robert Bresson’s 13 features over 40 years constitute arguably the most original and brilliant body of work over a long career from a film director in the history of cinema. He is the most idiosyncratic and uncompromising of all major filmmakers.” Or as Martin Scorsese put it, “we are still coming to terms with Robert Bresson, and the peculiar power and beauty of his films.”

This is the essential film book of the year. Pick up a copy now – right now.

“Poligrafo Bakarra” – Music Video by Joseba Elorza

Tuesday, December 27th, 2016

Here’s a stunning new music video by the Spanish artist Joseba Elorza.

One of the great things about Vimeo is that it allows you to see work by cutting edge visual artists all over the world – not just in the United States and Europe. The image above is taken by from a music video by Joseba Elorza for the band Berri Txarrak (literally “Bad News”), a Spanish rock group that uses the Basque language for all their work. For more examples of Elorza’s work, check out his video demo here.

Elorza has done illustrations for Esquire, TV spots for National Geographic, and numerous video adverts as well, but the deep knowledge of pop culture in this video – check out the clips from such films as The Last Man on Earth, House on Haunted Hill, The Hitch-Hiker, Alias John Preston and others – really takes his work to another dimension. Playful, serious, and endlessly creative, Elorza is clearly a talent to watch – as you can see for yourself.

Check out the video by clicking here, or on the image above.

The Four Just Men – Classic British Television

Wednesday, December 21st, 2016

Long before the current era of superheroes, The Four Just Men were way ahead of the curve.

The Marvel and DC Universe films may be ruling the box office right now, but more than half a century ago, The Four Just Men ruled British television, constantly criss-crossing the globe to right wrongs, and mete out justice to those who deserved it, without the benefit of superpowers or enormous wealth – just using their wits, and their skills, in the service of humanity.

As Wikipedia accurately notes, “The Four Just Men was a 1959 Sapphire Films production for ITC Entertainment. It ran for one season of 39 half-hour monochrome episodes. The series, loosely based on a series of novels by Edgar Wallace, presents the adventures of four men who first meet while fighting in Italy during the Second World War. The men later reassemble, and decide to fight for justice and against tyranny, using money set aside for the purpose by their late commanding officer.

They operate from different countries: Jeff Ryder (Richard Conte) is a professor of law at Columbia University in New York, Tim Collier (Dan Dailey) is an American reporter based in Paris, Ben Manfred (Jack Hawkins) is a crusading independent MP who works from London and Ricco Poccari (Vittorio De Sica) is an Italian hotelier based in Rome.

The series is unusual in having the four lead actors appear in turn other than in the first episode; one or occasionally two makes a brief appearance in each other’s episode, usually on the phone. Guest stars included Judi Dench, Alan Bates, Leonard Sachs, Patrick Troughton, Donald Pleasence, Richard Johnson, Ronald Howard, Basil Dignam, Roger Delgado, Charles Gray, and Frank Thornton.

At the time Four Just Men was the most ambitious film series yet made for British TV. It was produced by Sapphire Films at Walton Studios, and on location in Britain, France and Italy. None of its four stars had been cast as regulars in a TV series before. Filming on the 39 episodes, each 25 minutes long, began in January 1959, and lasted for five months, using up to seven units in the studio or on location, and producing two or three episodes simultaneously. [Future director] John Schlesinger was credited as exterior unit or second unit director on a number of episodes.”

This, of course, was back when a season of a television series amounted to something – 39 episodes, in fact. All the actors involved were certifiable stars at the time in their respective countries, particularly Jack Hawkins in England and the esteemed director/actor Vittorio De Sica in Italy, thus giving the series an international commercial appeal. But most central to the series’ success – and its recent release on Region 2 DVD – is the sense that someone was out there, watching out for the everyday person, who had no authority or influence.

Thus, in a way, not only do The Four Just Men prefigure the current craze for superheroes, offering hope in an uncertain world, but they also work their will through the actual channels of government and the law, without taking matters into their own hands, or using extra-terrestrial powers. This makes the series all the more relatable. From the opening title sequence – seen above – to the end of each episode, The Four Just Men act on the side of right against the forces of corruption and evil, winning on a human scale, rather than one of exaggerated influence.

As the series’ announcer intones at the start of each episode, “throughout time, there have been men to whom justice is more important than life itself. From these ranks come four men, prepared to fight valiantly on the side of justice wherever the need may be. Joined together in this cause, they are The Four Just Men.” It’s a nice dream- if only they were with us now.

See the intro to the series, as well as some episodes, by clicking here, or on the image above.

Restoring Sir Laurence Olivier’s “Richard III” (1955)

Wednesday, December 21st, 2016

Film restoration is one of the essential tasks for the cinema in the 21st century.

In this brief video, Martin Scorsese takes the viewer through the restoration of Oliver’s classic film Richard III in 2013 for release as a Blu-ray disc from Criterion, one of the masterpieces of cinema, shot in gorgeous Technicolor in the VistaVision process in 1955.

As Scorsese demonstrates in the video, the process to bring the film back to its original splendor was long and painstaking, and not helped by the fact that the film was extensively cut during various re-releases from its original running time. This was all the more problematic since in the film, Olivier used a “long take” strategy that meant that any one shot excised from the film also cut significant sections of Shakespeare’s play.

Then, too, the film was shot on various color stocks, and processed at different labs during its initial production, making the task of restoration all the more difficult, and in the places were segments were cut, whole frames of the original negative were destroyed, and had to be recreated digitally during the scanning process.

One thinks – or at least some people think – that film has a sort of permanence, but nothing could be further from the truth. Without assiduous care and attention, films – even relatively recent films such as this – soon fade and eventually cease to exist.

The task was made easier by the fact that the British Film Institute was involved; as someone who has been to the BFI Film Archive, and had the privilege of seeing some of the classic films of there 20th century in their original 35mm format there, including some shot on nitrate film, I can only applaud both the BFI’s efforts to keep restoring “film forever” – that’s now their official motto – and Martin Scorsese, for having such a significant hand in the process.

You can see the video by clicking here, or on the image above; fascinating viewing.

Vittorio de Sica’s “Two Women” Finally Gets A Real DVD Release

Monday, December 19th, 2016

Vittorio de Sica’s masterpiece Two Women finally gets a worthy DVD release.

As Svet Atanasov writes on the site Blu-ray.com, “winner of Best Actress Award at the Cannes Films Festival, Vittorio De Sica’s Two Women (1960) arrives on Blu-ray courtesy of British distributors Cult Films.

In Rome, Cesira (Sophia Loren) decides to close her shop and relocate to the countryside together with her daughter Rosetta (Eleonora Brown). It is a difficult move for her, but she is convinced that two will be safer there until the war ends. They pack their most precious belongings and then head to the train station.

When the train breaks down long before it reaches Cesira’s home village, the two women vow to finish their journey on foot. They are nearly killed after a German bomber fires at them while they cross an open field not too far away from their final destination.

For a while everything goes according to Cesira’s plan. She and Rosetta settle down and even though occasionally foreign soldiers pass through the area they feel safe. They also befriend the handsome teacher Michele (Jean-Paul Belmondo), who sees the world a lot differently than the rest of villagers. The two women also find themselves attracted to him, but for different reasons.

Eventually, the Allies liberate the southern parts of the country and begin pushing the Germans further north. It is then that Cesira and Rosetta decide to return to Rome and reopen the family store. But on the way back the women are forced to hide from their liberators, who turn out to be just as vile as the enemies they have been trying to evade.

Vittorio De Sica’s La Ciociara a.k.a. Two Women was the film that transformed Loren into an international star. Prior to it Loren had appeared in other films that were received well outside of Italy, but Two Women was the first foreign film to earn Oscar Award for Best Actress and its success had a profound impact on her career.

The raging war is easily felt throughout the entire film, but the focus of attention is very much on the manner in which Cesira and Rosetta do their best to continue living as if their lives were never shattered. Cesira in particular fully understands that her role as a loving mother should not be comprised, which is why she often emerges as a strong and unusually optimistic person. Rosetta unconditionally trusts her but also realizes that there are times when it is necessary that she follows her instincts.

The special bond that exists between the two women is abruptly broken in such brutal fashion that after that it seems impossible that Cesira could do anything as a mother to mend it. And yet, somehow the film finds a way to show that life, as unfair and ugly as it can be at times, is still worth living.

De Sica manages the incredible emotional ups and downs in the only way that actually makes sense – without any safe guards or filters. While this can make the film quite difficult to watch at times, it is certainly the reason why it also remains so profoundly moving.

The film was adapted by De Sica and the great writer Cesare Zavattini from the brilliant novel by Alberto Moravia which chronicles a true event. Moravia’s incredible body of work also inspired such iconic films as The Conformist, Le Mépris, and Time of Indifference.”

This is all true, but most importantly, for some unfathomable reason, Two Women fell into the Public Domain shortly after its release, and has been available only in terrible “pan and scan” prints that cropped the original 1.85:1 ratio into flat screen size, thus wrecking the gorgeous compositions De Sica creates throughout the film.

There’s also a feature length documentary on the life and work of de Sica on the disc, as well as an appreciation of Loren’s career, but the main event here is that finally – finally – we get a good transfer of this superb film in its original aspect ratio. I’ve been waiting for this for years, available both in DVD and Blu-ray, and best of all, it’s region free.

It’s very rare that PD films get rescued; this is a real part of cinema history restored.

New Article: Don Sharp’s Pyschomania Restored by the BFI

Wednesday, December 14th, 2016

Director Don Sharp’s Psychomania has just been restored by the British Film Institute.

As I write in Senses of Cinema 81 (December, 2016), “BFI’s Flipside series continues with another excellent release, a completely restored version of Don Sharp’s ‘zombie biker’ film Psychomania (1973), starring George Sanders in his last role, with capable assists from Beryl Reid and Nicky Henson.

Psychomania concerns Tom Latham (Henson), the leader of a teenage motorcycle gang, The Living Dead, who with the aid of his devil-worshipping mother (Reid) and her obedient butler Shadwell (Sanders) makes a deal with the Devil for his gang’s literal immortality.

Soon the gang members are deliberately killing themselves in a variety of grotesque and spectacular fashions, secure in the knowledge that they will soon be immortal. However, as with all such arrangements, things don’t go precisely as planned. Suffice it to say that business transactions with Satan are a decidedly risky business, for as we all know, the Devil is in the details.

Tom is an impetuous fellow, and he’s suspicious (with good reason) about his parentage and his home life in general. ‘Why did my father die in that locked room?’ he asks Shadwell petulantly. ‘Why do you never get any older? And what is the secret of the living dead?’

Soon enough, Tom’s mother – a curiously distant maternal figure if ever there was one – inducts Tom into the cult. With that accomplished, the rest of the film is a series of violent action set pieces, involving the ritualistic suicide of the gang members and their almost immediate resurrection, in which supermarkets are ransacked, innocent pedestrians are mowed down, and general mayhem ensues.

But that’s just for openers. Like so many motion picture motorcycle gangs before them, Tom has bigger plans, and wants to embark upon a campaign of wholesale violence, murdering policemen, judges, teachers, any authority figure that might hamper the gang’s activities. At this juncture, Tom’s mother and Shadwell intervene to put a halt to Tom’s grandiose scheme, in a manner that’s both bizarre and apparently quite effective.”

You can read the entire article by clicking here, or on the image above; a real cult classic.

Robert Day’s She (1965)

Sunday, December 4th, 2016

Ursala Andress and John Richardson in the climactic scene of Robert Day’s version of She (1965).

As Susan Doll writes on TCM.com, “She, H. Rider Haggard’s novel of a lost world in the jungles of Africa, was destined for cinema almost from the beginning. Haggard published his novel in 1887, and by 1908, a one-reeler of the story had been directed by Edwin S. Porter for Thomas Edison’s company.

In 1917, a longer interpretation was released by Fox Film starring forgotten actress Valeska Suratt, promoted in publicity materials as the Vampire Woman. Eight years later, an English version surfaced with Betty Blythe as the title character. Prior to Hammer’s production, the most well-known interpretation of She was produced by Merian C. Cooper for RKO in 1935. Cooper changed the setting to the frozen north and cast Helen Gahagan as She in her only film role. The material was ripe for an update when Hammer took on the project in 1963.

[Day's] film opens in Palestine just after World War I. Three adventure-loving war buddies, Leo Vincey, Holly, and Holly’s valet, Job, are enjoying themselves in a bar when a sultry local named Ustane [Rosenda Monteros] approaches them. Hammer stalwart Peter Cushing plays Holly with his typical charisma and charm, while Bernard Cribbins complements him as his right-hand man Job–a fitting name for a character who is defined by his devotion to his employer.

John Richardson costars as leading man Leo Vincey, though he lacks the magnetism of Cushing. Unknown to the men, Ustane secretly serves She, called Ayesha, and the young maiden recognizes Vincey as the reincarnation of her queen’s long-dead lover, Kallikrates. Ayesha had murdered Kallikrates 2,000 years earlier for being unfaithful to her, but she pines for him regardless.

Based on Ustane’s story, the trio is lured by the idea of a quest for a lost civilization and set out on a journey across the desert. They soon discover they are lost, though they are not without the creature comforts of the upper-crust adventurer. Job the valet, who never forgets his place, serves Holly and Leo their whiskey despite the dire circumstances. The trio reunites with Ustane in her desert village, where her father rules a lost tribe who guard the entrance to Kuma, Ayesha’s kingdom.

The three adventurers enter Kuma, which had been the scheming queen’s long-term plan all along. Ustane has fallen in love with Leo, but Leo has become entranced by Ayesha, known variously as She Who Waits and She Who Must Be Obeyed. Ayesha wants Leo to step into her eternal flame so the two can be united for all eternity, but her priest, Billali, played by Hammer legend Christopher Lee, is jealous of the newcomer. A beautiful but selfish despot, Ayesha does not care about her subjects, including Ustane. She foolishly executes several of her subjects, causing an uprising and complicating the situation for the adventurers.

She was the first film from Hammer to be built around a female star. Tall and statuesque, Ursula Andress was a perfect choice to play Ayesha, though in retrospect she claims to have disliked the role. Andress has been criticized by reviewers for her icy demeanor and aloof detachment, but these characteristics proved beneficial for playing the steely-eyed Ayesha. Costumed in a selection of warm-colored, Grecian-styled gowns and gold jewelry, she glows onscreen, partly due to the flattering, high-key lighting of cinematographer Harry Waxman.

Born in Switzerland to German parents, the exotic-looking beauty spoke with an accent, which Hammer’s producers found too distracting. Andress’s entire role was then re-voiced and dubbed over by an actress named Monica Van Der Syl, who mimicked a slight Swiss accent so audiences did not suspect the truth. John Richardson’s lines were also dubbed in post-production by the actor himself, perhaps to give his line readings an added emphasis, since he tended to be overshadowed by Cushing and Lee.”

All of which is true, but one should also consider James Bernard’s stunningly beautiful score, as well as Harry Waxman’s superb cinematography. As is usual, Cushing and Lee deliver entirely convincing and authoritative performances, and though the film is a colonialist relic of the highest order, its vision of the risks and allure of potential immortality are sinuously effective. Though She has been remade several times since, the 1965 version remains the definitive rendition of Haggard’s novel.

If you haven’t seen it, seek it out – compelling, brutal, and fascinating.

Quatermass II – in Color

Sunday, December 4th, 2016

Bryan Forbes and Brian Donlevy in the unreleased color version of Quatermass 2.

This is just an oddity; the Quatermass films are some of the most interesting early sci-fi projects on record, but now – and actually, this is not a new discovery, just new to me – comes word that Quatermass 2, directed by Val Guest, which has consistently been praised for its atmospheric black and white cinematography, was actually shot in Ansco color, but released in black and white for a variety of reasons – some economic, and others harder to determine.

For those unfamiliar with the series, the Quatermass series revolved around Professor Bernard Quatermass, who was continually investigating extra-terrestrial phenomena, often with disastrous results. The series went on for quite some time, and derived from a BBC TV serial by author Nigel Kneale, who took a very dim view of the film versions created by Hammer Films, principally because he objected to the casting of Brian Donlevy in the leading role.

But the frustrating thing here is that although the color negative of Quatermass 2 still exists, and has been apparently digitally transferred, to date, I can’t find a DVD release in color of the film. For those of us interested in this period, it certainly changes the whole trajectory of the Quatermass series, which supposedly switched to color with the 1967 production of Quatermass and the Pit. Now we know that isn’t true.

So, wouldn’t it be nice to see the film in its original version?

Memories of Raoul Coutard by Lee Kline

Wednesday, November 30th, 2016

Here are some memories of Raoul Coutard, one of the greatest cinematographers of all time.

Raoul Coutard, who photographed some of the most brilliant films of the New Wave, died recently at the age of 92. I don’t like to do obits in this blog, preferring to celebrate the work of the living, yet Coutard’s contribution is simply too significant to ignore. Happily, the colorist Lee Kline has recently published some thoughts about working with Coutard on digital restorations of some of his greatest films on the Criterion website, and here is part of what Kline had to say.

The first time I met Raoul Coutard was in June of 2002. I was in Paris to remaster a few films for Criterion, and one of them was [Jean-Luc] Godard’s Contempt. We had gotten in touch with Coutard and asked him to come in and help us with the color, which he did. He showed up and got right to work. I was awestruck that one of the world’s greatest cinematographers was working with us on what I considered to be one of his masterpieces.

It was not the easiest session for me because I spoke virtually no French and had to rely on people interpreting for me. Coutard worked with the colorist on the color grading: desaturating here, adding a little more contrast there, and bringing Contempt into the digital age with grace and ease.

He was fast, assured, and to the point. Because of the language barrier (or so I thought—more on that later!) we didn’t converse very much, but I got to hear translations of many great stories from the set. I could pretty much understand what he had done from the changes happening on the screen.

A few years later, we asked Coutard to come back in for a few more films. One was Band of Outsiders, and the other one was Costa-Gavras’s Z. We met at Eclair Laboratory, which was in a terrible neighborhood outside of Paris. He didn’t want to go there, and we didn’t want to go there. But Costa-Gavras wanted to go there. We met, and for some reason that I can’t remember, Costa-Gavras couldn’t make it and we had to work on Z without him.

I was with my colleague, who spoke French, and I was telling her that I thought there was something wrong with the color blue that was on the screen, trying to make my case so she could translate to Coutard. He then slowly turned to me and said, ‘What don’t you like about it?’ I was in shock that he never told me he could speak English! Everything then changed, and although his English was limited, I could finally speak directly to him.”

Coutard, famously practical and with a misanthropic streak a mile wide, could be difficult to work with. As recounted in his obituary in The New York Times by William Grimes, Coutard’s “collaboration with Godard ended when France was engulfed by the political events of 1968. ‘Jean-Luc is a fascist of the left, and I am a fascist of the right,’  Coutard told The Guardian. But the two reunited in the early 1980s to make Passion and First Name: Carmen.

He also had a falling-out with [director François] Truffaut, with whom he had collaborated on Shoot the Piano Player and The Soft Skin. The Bride Wore Black (1967) was their last film together. ‘I had the ridiculous idea to quit smoking at the same time we were filming the movie,’ Mr. Coutard told The Houston Chronicle. ‘I was very unbearable and very unpleasant, so we parted ways after that.’”

But here, readying is work for release in DVD and Blu-ray format, Coutard seems to have struck up a real accord with Kline, and it’s a pleasure to have this glimpse of the gifted artist in his last years, just as cantankerous as ever, yet assiduously making sure that his films made the jump to digital with all their pictorial values intact.

You can read the entire article by clicking here or on the image above.

Lost Georges Méliès Film Found in Czech Archive

Wednesday, October 12th, 2016

A lost film by director Georges Méliès from 1904 has been found at the Czech National Film Archive.

As Agence France-Presse reported in The Guardian on October 11, 2016, “researchers at the Czech National Film Archive have found a film by early cinema pioneer Georges Méliès that was thought to have been lost forever. The two-minute silent film Match de Prestidigitation (‘conjuring contest’) from 1904 was found on a reel given to the archives by an anonymous donor, labelled as another film.

Méliès, a stage magician turned film-maker from France, is credited with many technical and narrative developments in the 500-plus movies he made between 1896 and 1912. ‘The reel was titled Les Transmutations Imperceptibles, which is the name of another work by Méliès. But our specialist immediately realized it was another film,’ archives spokeswoman Jana Ulipova said.

‘Based on detailed analysis and research at the national library of France, among other places, we can say with certainty that it is Match de Prestidigitation, up to now considered lost.’ The recovered film shows a magician who divides into two. The doubles then take turns to perform tricks before merging back into one man. ‘We are planning to show the film in cinemas as part of a collection of Méliès works,’ Ulipova said.

The Czech archives have 22 movies by Méliès, whose Le Voyage dans la Lune (A Trip to the Moon) from 1902 is seen by many as the first science-fiction film. Most of the films made by Méliès, who died in 1938, have been lost. A painstakingly restored color version of Le Voyage dans la Lune was screened at France’s Cannes film festival in 2011.”

Proof that once again, miracles do happen in the cinema.

About the Author

Headshot of Wheeler Winston Dixon Wheeler Winston Dixon, Ryan Professor of Film Studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, is an internationally recognized scholar and writer of film history, theory and criticism. He is the author of thirty books and more than 100 articles on film, and appears regularly in national media outlets discussing film and culture trends. Frame by Frame is a collection of his thoughts on a number of those topics. All comments by Dixon on this blog are his own opinions.

In The National News

Wheeler Winston Dixon has been quoted by Fast Company, The New Yorker, The New York Times, the BBC, CNN, The Christian Science Monitor, US News and World Report, The Boston Globe, Entertainment Weekly, The Los Angeles Times, NPR, The PBS Newshour, USA Today and other national media outlets on digital cinema, film and related topics - see the UNL newsroom at http://news.unl.edu/news-releases/1/ for more details.

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