COLUMN: Cultural education on film

From Michael Pereira's, "The Raw and the Cooked," Fall '97 From Michael Pereira's, "The Raw and the Cooked," Fall '97 Film -- especially since the late '70s -- has become the definitive expression of American culture: not only a reflection, but an actual determining factor. The undead Star Wars Trilogy is our best example. Movies teach us how to live and movie people achieve meta-human status. Movie images are everywhere -- movie lines and movie music -- yet we consistently and wrongly relegate film to the realm of fiction. Cinema, therefore, has a unique social identity -- at once the embodiment of pop culture and its potential antithesis. The notion of genuine cinema has been misplaced among today's mass-produced mediocrity, but the creative art of filmmaking is by no means dead. Cinema is literature, photography, music and mise-en-scene -- altogether one of the most complete modes of artistic expression. And like any art or science, film requires education and diligent study to be understood properly . Penn has no shortage of film buffs and creative talent that might find an outlet in filmmaking. But the University does have a plentiful lack of undergraduate academic opportunities for interested students. This semester, for instance, the English Department offered a mere five classes associated with film. In other words, any kind of concentration in film will lead to a dead end. Film lends itself to diverse academic approaches -- for example, through the arts, sociology, history or business -- yet the absence of film-related courses remains a yawning omission in the Penn curriculum. Instead of promoting progressive intellectual work, the University resists one of the most fecund opportunities for study in the humanities. On the part of students, support for a humanities-based film studies program in the College of Arts and Sciences would be widespread; yet the powers-that-be, for various reason, seem to doubt film as a legitimate subject of study. On the contrary, film is the defining characteristic of our historical moment -- much discussed but seldom understood. The cinema remains complex, even when it seems deceptively simple. It has an immediacy rarely found in academia, and a spontaneity disconcerting to the old guard. Film is the record of the moment. And if we can't reconcile ourselves to the here and now, how are we supposed to prepare against the future? Penn's film situation, however, is not just a case of missed opportunity. In denying film studies its proper place -- or by restricting the subject to a few representative classes -- the College has betrayed the presence of a dangerous, formidable player in academia: politics. Intellectual concerns are obscured by the machinations of politician/academicians. In creating scholastic policy, personal interest may come before the concerns of students and the qualifications of professors. This works to the detriment of scholastic integrity, and threatens the quality of education and instruction. Academic politics also contribute an unsettling note of ambiguity to the scholastic selection process. Academic positions are difficult to come by, and, especially today, hard to hold on to. The tenure system -- ostensibly in place to provide a safe environment for research -- has the paradoxical effect of intimidation. Professors who have not yet received tenure can either confine themselves within the rigid parameters of the status quo, or jeopardize their careers through outspoken, original and perhaps unconventional thinking. Tenure, perverted by academic politics, is a disservice to both instructors and students. Politics where they don't belong stunt the growth of thought and the progress of ideas. In the emerging subject of film studies, the failings of tenure are particularly pronounced. The subject, by its very nature, resists closure or final judgements. Professors stand at the confluence of divers disciplines and thus face the difficult task of constant synthesis and adaptation. Film pervades America and vice versa; and professors of the subject must comprehend both in order to teach either. As a reflection of culture, film approximates a modern mythology. In America, where the cult of special effects looms large and the importance of narrative is waning, film becomes particularly intractable for study, but all the more rewarding. Perhaps film cannot be subsumed under one department, but in fact deserves its own interdisciplinary distinction. The University has the resources -- both human and financial -- to fund a program in film. But is the University ready for change? Spectacular dross infects the American cinema; the image has won out over narrative; and comprehensive film studies remain unrealized here at Penn, not necessarily in that order. Something is wrong with the chain of events. The second coming of The Empire Strikes Back forces us to realize the fundamental place of film in our culture, and in our education. Yet film remains, for the most part, an independent study, neglected as a "serious" academic subject in spite of abundant evidence to the contrary. The cinema defines us, and in turn, we define it. Yet the University, for various reasons, fails to acknowledge the immanence of film in late twentieth century American culture. Undergraduate film studies should enjoy a privileged place in the academic structure of the College. But instead, academic politicking and staunch resistance to change may endanger the possibility of film studies, and, more generally, any emerging subject that falls outside of the realm of convention.