Documente Academic
Documente Profesional
Documente Cultură
net/publication/233633913
CITATIONS READS
13 730
2 authors:
Some of the authors of this publication are also working on these related projects:
All content following this page was uploaded by Caroline Bainbridge on 22 March 2015.
CINEMATIC S YMPTOMS O F
MASCULINITY I N TRANSITION:
M EMORY, HISTO RY A N D
MYTHOLOGY IN CONTEMP ORARY
FILM
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d ge 1 a n d Ca n d i d a Yat e s 2
1
Roehampton University, London, UK
2
University of East London, London, UK
Correspondence: Dr Caroline Bainbridge, School of Arts, Digby Stuart College, Roehampton University,
Roehampton Lane, London SW15 5PH, UK
E-mail: c.bainbridge@roehampton.ac.uk
Candida Yates, School of Social Sciences, Media and Cultural Studies, University of East London,
Docklands Campus, 4-6 University Way, London E16 2RD, UK
E-mail: c.yates@uel.ac.uk
A b s t ra c t
This paper uses psychoanalytic and cultural theories to explore contemporary shifts
in hegemonic masculinities through a discussion of their representation in mainstream
cinema. By interrogating the uses made in cinema of ideas around history, trauma and
mythology, we suggest that masculinity has been undergoing a stage of cultural transition
towards new modes of masculinity that challenge the rigidities of images in previous
decades. The political potential of such images may also, however, be ultimately reined in
by the insistence of the hegemonic set of discourses around representation. However, by
drawing on psychoanalytic explanations of trauma, gender and cultural fantasy, we
show that these cinematic representations of masculinity are often highly complex,
ambiguous and transitional, and, as such, may lie somewhere in between overly defensive
narcissistic modes of masculinity and those which are more fluid and open to change. In
the end, we settle on the importance of seeing representations of masculinities as forming
a continuum between these positions. While foregrounding that ambiguity, we explore
both the potentially positive and negative implications for the kind of identifications and
affective responses that are opened up for the spectator, and the readings that are created
as a result.
Ke y wo rd s
cinema; fantasy; history; masculinities; trauma
I nt r o d u ct i o n
I
t is often argued that contemporary European and American societies are
witnessing a crisis of masculinity. Whether this alleged ‘‘crisis’’ represents a
positive shift towards more reflexive, emotional masculinities has been the
subject of much debate in psychoanalytic cultural studies, and this debate
provides the context for this paper (Kirkham and Thumim, 1993, 1995; Frosh,
1997; Minsky, 1998; Butler, 2000). Its focus will centre on the popular cultural
trope of masculinity in crisis as represented in contemporary cinema, where
representations of male trauma have been a recurring theme since the 1990s. In
the context of film history, such representations have as their antecedent film
noir, a body of films in which anxieties about the effects of the socio-cultural
climate on gendered subjectivities were a major theme.1 The cultural and
psychoanalytic analysis of trauma and its related themes can be put to work to
construct new insights into this perception of masculinity as being somehow ‘‘in
crisis’’ in the contemporary cultural climate. To this end, this paper uses
psychoanalytic approaches to trauma, gender and cultural fantasy to think
through the possibilities of masculine subjectivities in the context of mainstream
cinema’s articulations of history, trauma and mythology.
There are competing views about the representation of masculinities in
popular cinema. On the one hand, some argue negatively that the changes and
uncertainties of late modernity have elicited a defensive, cultural ‘‘backlash’’ in
the media (Faludi, 1991, 1999), which shores up old hegemonic positions in
relation to patriarchal masculinity (see Samuels, 1993; Connell, 1995). Such
arguments contend that while images of emotional men proliferate, the images
have a narcissistic, rigid quality, and can be seen as an attempt to colonize the
cultural spaces formerly occupied by women (Rowe, 1995; Butler, 2000). Other
commentators suggest that contemporary culture has opened up new counter-
hegemonic spaces that are able to facilitate more fluid, less defensive
masculinities (Segal, 1990; Minsky, 1998). Our analysis aims to move beyond
this binaristic model of theorising masculinity in crisis as either necessarily
positive or negative. Despite the difficulties of articulating the ambiguities of
contemporary masculinities, we argue that there is value in the exploration of
these very uncertainties, and that cinema, with all its associations with fantasy,
affect and unconscious pleasure, provides a useful arena in which to examine
this. To this end, we argue for the need to seek out a kind of transitional space
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
301
Tra u m a t i c ma s c u l i ni t i e s
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
303
event triggers memories of an earlier one, which might never have come to
consciousness had the later event not occurred (Lukacher, 1986, p 35). The
traumatic nature of the first moment of trauma can only be ascribed to it after
the fact. This is the principle of Nachträglichkeit or deferred action.
How the subject perceives a past event and then responds to that perception
in that second moment of trauma provides a useful paradigm to think through
issues of the perceived crisis of masculinity. Masculinity is, and always has been,
unstable. To speak of a crisis is to imply that it was somehow ‘‘alright’’ before.
As in the postwar era, the visibility of this instability shifts in relation to
different historical periods, showing that perceptions of crisis are historically
contingent upon changing social conditions and upon changing gender relations
(see the discussion below). As indicated above, the impact of second wave
feminism has played a key role in challenging perceptions of masculinity in what
we have defined as postmodern culture. The fantasy of a concrete, definable,
finite fantasy of masculinity underpinning patriarchy, then, has fallen away,
suggesting that there is no longer a fixed point of reference by which traditional
modes of heterosexual masculinity can maintain their privileged hegemonic
position.
In postmodernism, a new awareness of the losses bound up with these old
fictions of masculinity gives rise to a sense of trauma. As Freudian approaches to
trauma suggest, memory is always shaped retrospectively through fantasy
(Mitchell, 2000). The fantasy underpinning the hegemonic formation of
masculinity, then, seems to be lost within postmodernism, and it is this loss
that provides the first moment of trauma. As we have already seen, the second
moment of trauma is essential for the identification of the first moment of its
origin – the symptom is fundamental to the revelation of the root of the
traumatic experience. In the postmodern context, the extensive parody of
hegemonic masculinity and the lack of obvious routes out of the paradoxical
spaces it opens up, force a kind of retrospective nostalgia for a fiction of
masculinity that becomes overvalued as a result, and it is this that traumatizes
the postmodern masculine subject. This suggests that the current cultural
‘‘undoing’’ of hegemonic masculinity and the perception of crisis may be
precipitating the kind of repetitive psychic fantasies and defence mechanisms
analogous to those experienced by the traumatized subject, who is unable to live
with the perception of a past event. The unbearability of what lies beneath the
masquerade of masculinity sets off a desire to deflect and cover up the losses,
and in doing so, the subject becomes endlessly and hysterically trapped in that
first moment of trauma.
The proliferation of discourses about male suffering and its representation in
film is analogous to a hysterical defence against the losses of masculinity. This is
nothing new in the history of popular film, as we discuss below. On the one
hand, the cultural scenario of the traumatized subject taps into the scepticism of
those who critique the cultural crisis of masculinity in negative terms by
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
305
The ubiquity of films that depict images of male suffering (e.g., Shine (1996),
The Game (1997), American Psycho (2000), Mystic River (2003), The Passion
of the Christ (2004)) is telling, particularly within the current cultural context
where the old fictions of masculinity are unravelling. The shifts in the meanings
of Western masculinity are reportedly linked to the ‘‘feminization’’ and
emotionalization of Western culture, as we have seen (Lasch, 1979; Lupton,
1998; Segal, 1999; Gill et al., 2000). Such changes have been linked to the
greater propensity of men to express their emotions (Lupton, 1998; Segal, 1999;
Yates, 2001). Subordinate and marginalized masculinities that challenge more
traditional forms are finding representation in popular culture, where,
increasingly, discourses and representations of new ‘‘feeling-ful’’ masculinities
are being articulated (Cohan and Hark, 1993; Lupton, 1998; Lehman, 1993).
Over the past decade, and in contrast to the more macho images of the 1980s as
in the Die Hard, Lethal Weapon and Rambo cycles of film, more diverse
examples of emotional masculinities can be found in Hollywood cinema than
previously, where the interior lives of the characters are more fully explored.
These include diverse images of fatherhood (Three Men and a Baby (1987), Nil
By Mouth (1999), The Full Monty (1997)), of sons (Billy Elliott (2000), About
A Boy (2002)), men suffering mid-life crises (High Fidelity (2000), As Good As
It Gets (1997)), issues of retirement and the problems of aging (The Pledge
(2001), Unforgiven), sexuality (Philadelphia (1993), The Crying Game (1992)),
and issues of jealousy and loss (The Piano (1993), Howard’s End (1992), The
English Patient (1996)). As Jeffords argues in relation to the 1990s Hollywood
representations of the male body:
specific, and provide clues about the shaping of male subjectivities in that
historical, psycho-cultural setting. As suggested above, the cinematic images of
the ‘‘crisis of masculinity’’ are often also associated with film noir, which
emerged in the 1940s and 1950s when men were experiencing emotional
difficulties following the upheavals of the Second World War. The disaffected,
flawed male hero struggling to assert justice in some shape or form in a muddled
and confusing world that seemed to thwart all his effort resonates with
the images of troubled masculinity today. Indeed, the 1990s resurgence of
interest in film noir (seen in ‘‘neo-noir’’ films such as The Last Seduction (1993)
and LA Confidential (1997)), arguably foregrounded a return to an overriding
sense of increased confusion that characterized the psycho-cultural position of
masculinity in that decade. During that period, the cultural emergence of
the image of the ‘‘new lad’’ was symptomatic of that confusion and has
been linked to a neoconservative climate in which a paranoid backlash against
the perceived persecutory gaze of feminism helped to promote this ‘‘blast
of anachronistic masculinity’’ (Faludi, 1999, p 528). Films such as The Full
Monty represented the different cultural forces at that moment, combining a
‘‘laddish’’, wry, self-deprecating, humorous look at the failings of masculinity
with a cynicism about the power of the female gaze and its castrating
connotations.
In the contemporary context, there has been a proliferation of images in
films such as American Beauty (1999), Fight Club (1999), Memento (2000), or
more recently, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, where the male
protagonists convey the dilemmas of the traumatized subject, appearing to be
overwhelmed by forces beyond their control. While such representations may
appear to depict a sense of hopelessness for contemporary masculinities, the
popularity of such films should not go unnoticed, as it implies a more active and
politically potent set of identifications on the part of spectators. Alongside
the emotional conundrum of contemporary postmodern masculinities, the
cultural loss of moral certainty is also evoked through the narratives, visual
codes and conventions of such films. Gone are the traditional, linear Oedipal
narratives that characterized Hollywood films of a previous era. Instead,
viewers are often confronted by stories where the boundaries between the
‘‘good’’ and the ‘‘bad’’ guy are no longer so clear-cut, and where, as in films
such as Memento, the memory of the film’s narrator turns out to be totally
unreliable. It is also the case that the female characters often merely function
as narrative foils for the male melodramas to unfold. What is interesting
about these examples, then, as we go on to discuss in more detail below,
is the potential offered by such images for spectators to engage with the
problematic contradictions of the ambiguous modes of masculinity
made available in these films. While the representations themselves do
not completely refuse familiar tropes of dominant masculinity, they nevertheless
open up spaces in which alternative modes of masculinity can be
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
307
C i ne m a t i c ma s c ul i n i t i e s an d th e tra u m a ti z e d b o d y
A recurring motif of such films is the focus on the male body as a site of anxiety.
In Fight Club, Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) exemplifies this, with the image of his
scarred and bruised body both parodying and evoking questions about the limits
of masculine endurance. Yet, all the while, Durden’s machismo is undermined
by his ‘‘friend,’’ Jack (Edward Norton), who ultimately turns out to be his more
vulnerable alter ego. The complexity of the contemporary psychological
experience of masculinity is wrought throughout the film (in terms of both
characterization and plotting) in ways that point to the increasing sense of
fracture, fragmentation and splitting at its heart. With a narrative that
ultimately seems to be rooted in a kind of manic pessimism, Fight Club serves
to highlight the discursive psychological structures at play in contemporary
formations of masculinity, pointing to the place of trauma in forging an
understanding of them. The film’s ending (and the revelation of its twist) points
to the cultural psychosis that seems to have been forged within the particular
context of the culture of high consumption and late capitalism that characterizes
contemporary Western urban lifestyles. The hegemonic structures that underpin
this cultural context are signalled as the root cause of the film’s representation of
what we are supposed to understand as masculinity. It is as though the history of
Western hegemony, with its idealization of phallic power, is to be understood as
the source of the symptom and that the experiences of men trapped within its
workings are increasingly verging on the pathological as a result. However, the
film also articulates the tensions between psychic fantasies of phallic power
grounded in the symbolic domain of masculinity, and it thereby confronts the
actualities of men’s rising anxieties and fears of inadequacy. This, combined
with the film’s revelation, at the end, of the fact that Tyler and Jack are in fact
the same person, alerts the spectator to the schizoid status of contemporary
masculinity, thereby forcing the spectator to imagine the originary moment of
trauma and thus to contemplate more radical alternatives. Thus, while the film
itself may not seem to offer a progressive representation of masculinity, its
themes and narrative strategies work to produce a mode of spectatorship that
challenges the status quo.
In the film Memento, the pathologization of masculine subjectivity is central
to both the narrative and the filmic structure. The film evokes the themes of
masculinity in crisis and the traumatized body as discussed so far. It has become
a cult film among cinema audiences who remain fascinated by its complex and
enigmatic story line. The protagonist, Leonard (Guy Pearce), is a man who is
trapped in an endless present, a man who, we are told, has no capacity for new
memories. The last thing he remembers is his wife dying. He has no means of
gauging the time that has elapsed since this traumatic event because of his
condition. Leonard’s present life is a constant round of recognizing clues and
deciphering puzzles in order to avenge the murder of his wife and sustain a sense
of justice in a world of turmoil and confusion. At one level, this character seems
generic, fulfilling a role familiar to us from film noir. Yet, the film’s form and
structure complicate our relationship to the protagonist and Leonard is
eventually revealed as a much more complex rendition of masculinity than
we have hitherto assumed.
In Memento, the male body functions as a prop, as a key for spectators
struggling to make sense of what they are seeing. This is particularly evident in
the tattoos written on Leonard’s body, which stipulate that ‘‘Notes can be lost’’,
‘‘Memory is treachery’’ and ‘‘Don’t trust your weakness’’. The tattoos act as a
reminder of the castratedness of the position occupied by Leonard in the film,
seeming to spell out the failure of the hegemonic relationship between mastery
and masculinity. They might be seen as simplistic metaphors for contemporary
masculinity, and the film’s play with them reminds us of the slippages in what is
understood as masculinity in contemporary culture. The tattoos serve an
important function in the film as they alert the spectator to the playful rendition
of masculinity in this film, opening up new avenues for its deconstruction.
Masculinity in Memento is also defined in the context of trauma. In the
colour strand of narrative in the film, Leonard functions as though he is
endlessly trapped on the brink of the so-called second moment of trauma that is
so crucial to the recognition of the prior moment of trauma to which it refers.
The problem for Leonard is that he is constantly at the point of recognition that
his wife’s murder accounts for his condition, but, because of his inability to
make new memories, the fact or truth of the experience can never fully be
grasped. However, the film’s apparently traumatic representation of masculinity
is arguably fraudulent. The narrative is riven with holes that leave the spectator
with little space for cinematic pleasure. Indeed, when we realize toward the end
of the film that Leonard is a highly unreliable narrator,4 our identification with
him is undone and we are forced to take on the second moment of trauma for
ourselves in order to make sense of what we are seeing. As spectators, we are left
in a subjective relation to the film that at the very least parallels the psychic
experience of trauma. In order to get the narrative joke and perceive where the
place of trauma lies, we need to have sat through it and got to the end. As with
the moment in Fight Club when we discover that the two male characters are
the same person, the revelation of Memento’s joke, and the fact that it is on us,
prompts us to re-examine the events in question in order to have a sense of
mastery over the narrative truth. This raises interesting questions about the
therapeutic potential of cinema in working through the dilemmas of
contemporary masculinity; yet it also unravels culturally-defined notions of
the male anti-hero as seen in these films. While this unravelling is not countered
by the provision of any fixed alternative, it performs an important function as it
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
309
H i s t o r y, m a s c u l i n i t y a n d t h e u n r e l i a b l e me m o r y o f t h e
t ra u m a t i ze d s u b j ec t
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
311
Similarly, the recent film King Arthur (2004) is a reworking of the Camelot
myth. The film’s use of myth is a departure from the traditional one and
disinvests it of the masculine losses associated with it. In this version, the
chivalrous dynamics are not directly played out in relation to the woman in the
domestic setting of Camelot, but rather, the object of desire is symbolized in
terms of the quest for ‘‘freedom’’ and identity through male homosocial bonding
against the enemy in battle. The film contains the hegemonic ambiguities of
contemporary masculinities in its refusal to work with the traditional cultural
tropes of male chivalry and romance. Yet, both King Arthur and Troy ultimately
work in a concrete fashion to reinforce these tropes, and they do so by setting
out to depict history, not as ‘‘myth’’, but rather as ‘‘the real thing’’. King Arthur
and Troy, then, are grandiose in their aim of depicting the ‘‘truth’’ of
masculinity, and this has the effect of temporarily masking the cracks and
uncertainties of the old hegemonic order. However, these recent films have
enjoyed neither critical nor commercial success. By contrast, the Lord of the
Rings trilogy, where myth is subordinate to fantasy, and where truth claims are
secondary to the pleasures that fantasy has to offer, deploys the quest narrative
in a way that appears to offer safer spaces of exploration for contemporary
cinema audiences. Nevertheless, films such as those in the Lord of the Rings
cycle also reinforce old binaristic models of sameness and difference, and,
paradoxically, seem to close down the radical potential of fantasy for
imaginative engagement with transitional cultural spaces that might challenge
the old linear models of history. This has implications for the cultural reworking
of masculinity and the binary structures that underpin it. While the quest for
freedom is still central to these films, they seek to foreclose the dilemmas of
masculinity in transition by deploying fantasy as an escape from the lived
experience of it. Hence, this cycle of films seems not to offer solutions in the
manner of Troy and King Arthur, but rather offers a holding space for the
anxieties associated with the lived experience of masculinity in transition.
Conclusion
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
313
glaring and unbearable, and which the spectator-subject feels compelled to fill,
despite the fact that there is no ready mechanism by which to do so. The second
tension stems from the creative desire on the part of the spectator to repair the
sense of loss that ensues, and the corresponding despair it evokes, which is
rooted in the recognition of those losses and the cracks of wounded masculinity.
In setting out to articulate the complexity of masculinities in transition, our
aim has been to convey the ambiguous and slippery terrain of masculinity in
postmodernity. As we have highlighted, contemporary masculinities are in
constant flux and are no longer comprehensible solely in terms of old fictions of
fixity and hegemonic truth. Instead, masculinity is increasingly subject to
renegotiation and popular cinema provides one space in which such renegotia-
tions take place.
Contemporary cinematic representations of masculinity shift along a
continuum, the poles of which we have defined as fetishism on the one hand
and transitional space on the other. At the fetishistic end of the spectrum, the
viewer is confronted with rigid, petrified and static articulations of masculinity,
which appear to perpetuate old narcissistic modes of viewing and experience.
Such representations work in a circular motion, endlessly repeating familiar
patterns and tropes that trap the viewing subject into a hysterical mode of
spectatorship. By contrast, representations of masculinity in transition by
definition foreground the possibility of change and of more creative, fluid and
dynamic identifications. They therefore appear to be less defensive, although the
character of these spaces of exploration is such that the possibility of slippage
into more ambivalent states of fantasy is always on the horizon. The analyses set
out here navigate between these poles, highlighting the difficulty of scrutinizing
postmodern texts in which the potential for both fetishistic and transitional
readings may exist.
Of the texts examined here, there is an interesting historical compartmenta-
lization that can be made. The most clearly ambiguous texts identified in this
paper emerged during the 1990s, suggesting that this period was particularly
inflected with the possibility of a shift in gender politics. Interestingly, the later
films examined here seek to recuperate an older story of masculinity rooted in
mythology and a highly fetishized account of history.
Over recent years in mainstream cinema, then, there is a clear historical
trajectory that has opened up what might be regarded as a new space of
working through. One can point to the potential therapeutic value inherent in
the emotional work demanded by such spaces as they do not furnish us with
ready-made solutions to the dilemmas of contemporary masculinity, but rather
provide a setting in which a cultural working through is able to unfold. This is
important at the level of individual viewing subjects, but also has implications
for society more broadly and for the fantasies that circulate within culture. As
we have discussed, popular films of the 1990 s (such as Memento, Fight Club,
The End of the Affair) dealt with the cultural manifestation of masculinity in
A b o u t th e a ut h o r s
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
315
Notes
1 It is generally accepted that the film noir movement runs from the 1940s (although it has its roots in
1930s films made in both the Hollywood and European contexts) to 1960 or so. For a full analysis of
film noir, see Silver and Ursini (1999).
2 Incidentally, there have been a number of cinematic adaptations of such TV series in recent years,
highlighting the way in which postmodernism has given rise to a playful concern with ideas about
‘‘retro’’ culture as exemplified through the more recent playful representations of such formerly
patriarchal figures. See, for example, The Avengers (1998) and Johnny English (2003).
3 The concept of ‘‘transitional space’’ is borrowed from Winnicott (1971), who uses it to describe the
intermediate ‘‘me-not me’’ space that emerges between the mother and the infant for play. This space
is the precursor for creativity, and he argues for the psychic significance of this space, in which
subjectivity is continually made and re-made. See Yates and Day Sclater (2000) for a discussion of the
relationship between transitional space, subjectivity and culture.
4 Leonard’s tattooed body gives the lie to his reliability as a narrator in two flash shots. In the first of
these scenes, there is a fleeting shot of Leonard, who has replaced Sammy Jankis (Stephen
Tobolowsky), seated in a chair in the TV room at the mental hospital. In the second, toward the end
of the film, we see Leonard lying in bed with his wife who is alive, and Leonard’s chest bears a tattoo
that we have not seen before and that says ‘‘I killed John G’’.
5 Heritage films are, by definition, set in the past and contain a range of different generic elements that
tend to draw on dominant notions of ‘‘England’s rich historical and cultural heritage’’ (Hill, 1999, p
77).
6 For an overview of the debate around the ideological and cultural function of heritage films, see
Hammond (1993) and Hill (1999).
7 These ontological uncertainties are also expressed aesthetically, through the ambiguities of the film’s
mise-en-scène. The authentic period details are undermined by the flashbacks, the dark, shadowy
lighting, the circular postmodern music of Michael Nyman and the jealous gaze of the camera, which
looks for what can’t be seen or found. Jordan subverts the conceits of English heritage films that
idealize history, and instead he evokes the atmosphere of the 1940s in such a way as to unsettle the
audience and its response to the dramas of male jealousy enacted on the screen.
8 For further discussion of these ideas, see Neale (1983).
Re fe r e n c es
Bainbridge, C., Biressi, A. and Nunn, H. (eds.) (2004a). Special Edition: Trauma and Ethics
in the Field of Vision. Journal for Cultural Research 8 (3), pp. 1–406.
Bainbridge, C., Biressi, A. and Nunn, H. (2004b). The Trauma Debate Continued. Screen
45 (4), pp. 391–422.
Butler, A. (2000). Feminist Theory and Women’s Films At The Turn Of The Century. Screen
41 (1), pp. 73–78.
Case, B. (2000). Holy Ghosts. Time Out 12 January.
Cohan, S. and Hark, I.R. (eds.) (1993). Screening the Male: Exploring Masculinities in
Hollywood Cinema. London: Routledge.
Connell, R.W. (1995). Masculinities. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Coward, R. (1999). Sacred Cows: Is Feminism Relevant to the New Millennium?. London:
Harper Collins.
Faludi, S. (1991). Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women. New York:
Crown Publishers.
Faludi, S. (1999). Stiffed: The Betrayal of the Modern Man. London: Chatto & Windus.
Fiedler, L. (1970). Love and Death in the American Novel. London: Paladin.
Frosh, S. (1997). For and Against Psychoanalysis. London: Routledge.
Gill, R., Henwood, K. and McLean, C. (2000). The Tyranny of the Six Pack?
Understanding Men’s Representations of the Male Body in Popular Culture. In Squire,
C. (ed.) Culture in Psychology. London: Routledge, pp. 100–118.
Green, G. (1951). The End of the Affair. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Hall, S., Critcher, C., Jefferson, T., Clarke, J. and Roberts, B. (1978). Policing the Crisis:
‘‘Mugging’’, the State, and Law and Order. London: Macmillan.
Hall, S. and Jacques, M. (1989). New Times. London: Lawrence & Wishart.
Hammond, M. (1993). The Historical and the Hysterical: Melodrama and Masculinity in
Dead Poets Society. In Kirkham, P. and Thumim, J. (eds.) Me Jane: Masculinity, Movies
and Men. London: Wishart & Lawrence, pp. 52–64.
Hill, J. (1999). British Cinema in the 1980s. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Hammond, M., Humphrey, D., Randell, K. and Thomas, P. (2003). The Trauma Debate
Continued. Screen 44 (2), pp. 200–228.
Jeffords, S. (1993). Can Masculinity Be Terminated?. In Cohan, S. and Hark, I.R. (eds.)
Screening the Male: Exploring Masculinities in Hollywood Cinema. London: Routledge,
pp. 245–262.
Kirkham, P. and Thumim, J. (eds.) (1993). You Tarzan: Masculinity, Movies and Men.
London: Lawrence & Wishart.
Kirkham, P. and Thumim, J. (eds.) (1995). Me Jane: Masculinity, Movies and Women.
London: Lawrence & Wishart.
Laplanche, J. and Pontalis, J.-P. (1988). The Language of Psychoanalysis. London: Karnac
Books.
Lasch, C. (1979). The Culture of Narcissism, reprinted 1991. New York: W.W. Norton.
Lehman, P. (ed.) (1993). Masculinity: Bodies, Movies, Culture. London: Routledge.
Lukacher, N. (1986). Primal Scenes: Literature, Philosophy, Psychoanalysis. Ithaca and
London: Cornell University Press.
Lupton, D. (1998). The Emotional Self. London: Sage.
Minsky, R. (1998). Psychoanalysis and Culture. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Mitchell, J. (2000). Mad Men and Medusas: Reclaiming Hysteria and the Effects of Sibling
Relations on the Human Condition. London: Penguin Books.
Modleski, T. (1991). Feminism Without Women: Culture and Criticism in a Postfeminist
Age. London and New York: Routledge.
Mulvey, L. (1975). Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema. Screen 16 (3), pp. 15–27.
Neale, S. (1983). Masculinity as Spectacle – Reflections on Men and Mainstream Cinema.
Screen 24 (6), pp. 2–16.
Owens, C. (1985). The Discourse of Others: Feminists and Postmodernism. In Foster, H.
(ed.) Postmodern Culture. London: Pluto Press, pp. 57–82.
Radstone, S. (1995). Cinema/Memory/History. Screen 36 (1), pp. 34–47.
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s
Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
317
Radstone, S. (ed.) (2001). ‘‘Trauma and Screen Studies: Special Debate’’. Screen 42 (2),
pp. 188–216.
Rowe, K. (1995). Melodrama and Men in Post-Classical Romantic Comedy. In Kirkham, P.
and Thumim, J. (eds.) Me Jane: Masculinity, Movies and Men. London: Wishart &
Lawrence, pp. 184–193.
Samuels, A. (1993). The Political Psyche. London: Routledge.
Segal, L. (1990). Slow Motion: Changing Masculinities, Changing Men. London: Virago.
Segal, L. (1999). Why Feminism. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Silver, A. and Ursini, J. (1999). The Noir Style. Woodstock, NY: Overlook Press.
Silverman, K. (1992). Male Subjectivity at the Margins. London and New York: Routledge.
Winnicott, D.W. (1971). Playing and Reality. London: Penguin Books.
Yates, C. and Day Sclater, S. (2000). Culture, Psychology and Transitional Space. In Squire,
C. (ed.) Culture in Psychology. London: Routledge, pp. 135–137.
Yates, C. (2001). Teaching psychoanalytic studies: towards a new culture of learning in
higher education. Psychoanalytic Studies 3 (3–4), pp. 333–347.
Fil mo g ra phy
C a r o l i n e B a i n b r i d g e a n d C a n d i d a Ya t e s