This thesis examines the critical response to Quentin Tarantino’s representations of screen violence, primarily the violent content in his three revenge thrillers: Kill Bill (2003-4), Inglourious Basterds (2009), and Django Unchained (2012). Throughout Tarantino’s career, critics have attacked him for aestheticizing bloodshed to such a degree that it becomes a glib, pop culture affectation, and the empirically larger amounts of violent content in the revenge thrillers has only encouraged this claim. This paper argues for a recontextualization of how Tarantino wields brutality throughout these three pictures, that the rise in graphic content reflects a greater engagement with social-moral concerns in a manner that is both socially responsible – to echo Susan Sontag’s views on visual representations of violence in Regarding the Pain of Others (2003) – and creatively consistent among those artists looking to retain their cultural significance as they age.

No description available.

Syftet med denna uppsats är att undersöka dels vilka former av makt som den drivande karaktären Hans Landa i filmen Inglourious Basterds (2009) använder sig av i två utvalda förhörsscener, dels hur mise-en-scène i form av föremål, kostym och gester nyttjas för att presentera makt. Uppsatsen tar avstamp i en semiotisk bildanalys, med teorin om maktbas som grund. Analysen kommer fram till att karaktären Hans Landas makt framstår i de fyra olika maktbaserna legitim makt, tvingande makt, belöningsmakt och informationsmakt. Slutsatsen finner även likheter i scenerna, så som den vita färgen i föremål som mjölkglas och grädde samt dess konnotation till det oskyldiga. Föremål med vit färg är något Landa i båda scenerna förstör på olika sätt, vilket kopplas till hans position som SS-soldat.

How should we, Americans, confront our complicity in reproducing the Shoah? For complicit we are, if consumerism is any metric: Steven Spielbergs 1993 film Schindlers List had grossed $321 million as of 2012; more than 40 million people have made the pilgrimage to the sacred US Holocaust Museum; at last count, The Diary of Anne Frank had sold 30 million copies. These numbers are stale staples in the debate over the ethics of Shoah representation, of course, but they bear out the skepticism of critics who have questioned American Holocaust consumer culture. And consumerism is only the first of many such ethical quandaries, which include how to deal with the trauma that audiences experience upon viewing Holocaust films and what happens when secondary witnesses overidentify with Holocaust victims.This paper takes up an unusual form of Holocaust art: misrepresentative film. I discuss two films, Quentin Tarantinos Inglourious Basterds and Wes Andersons The Grand Budapest Hotel, to argue that intentional misrepresentations not only call attention to the pitfalls of traditional representation but also encourage audiences to work through the transhistorical trauma of the Shoah. Released in 2009, Tarantinos was perhaps unique in cinema for its radical alteration of history, intended to give audiences the sheer pleasure of seeing the Nazi regime go up, literally, in flames. Though the film is undoubtedly a revenge fantasy that, using Dominick LaCapras terms, embodies acting out€ in response to historical trauma, it does so by flipping the traditional narrative: unlike most depictions of the Shoah, it complicates the victim-perpetrator binary, identifies audiences with the transgressors, and constantly calls attention to its own fictionality. Movies like The Grand Budapest Hotel are evidence that Tarantino really did shatter the constraints of the genre. Basterds certainly makes no effort toward historical accuracy, but since its appeal depends on the audiences awareness of its inaccuracies, Tarantino is still elbow-deep in real history. Anderson is not. Budapest is a troubled film, haunted by invasions, wars, arrests, and displays of arbitrary power, many of which recall the Third Reich. The function of these ominous forces, however, is not to offer commentary on the Shoah but simply to recreate the illusory world of Stefan Zweig, on whose writings it was based. In producing a movie about Nazi-occupied Europe in which the troubles of the period are relegated mostly to the background, Anderson furthers the deconstruction of the Holocaust film genre, raising the possibility that such films can be historically serious without being bound by restrictive rules.

How should we, Americans, confront our complicity in reproducing the Shoah? For complicit we are, if consumerism is any metric: Steven Spielbergs 1993 film Schindlers List had grossed $321 million as of 2012; more than 40 million people have made the pilgrimage to the sacred US Holocaust Museum; at last count, The Diary of Anne Frank had sold 30 million copies. These numbers are stale staples in the debate over the ethics of Shoah representation, of course, but they bear out the skepticism of critics who have questioned American Holocaust consumer culture. And consumerism is only the first of many such ethical quandaries, which include how to deal with the trauma that audiences experience upon viewing Holocaust films and what happens when secondary witnesses overidentify with Holocaust victims.This paper takes up an unusual form of Holocaust art: misrepresentative film. I discuss two films, Quentin Tarantinos Inglourious Basterds and Wes Andersons The Grand Budapest Hotel, to argue that intentional misrepresentations not only call attention to the pitfalls of traditional representation but also encourage audiences to work through the transhistorical trauma of the Shoah. Released in 2009, Tarantinos was perhaps unique in cinema for its radical alteration of history, intended to give audiences the sheer pleasure of seeing the Nazi regime go up, literally, in flames. Though the film is undoubtedly a revenge fantasy that, using Dominick LaCapras terms, embodies œacting out in response to historical trauma, it does so by flipping the traditional narrative: unlike most depictions of the Shoah, it complicates the victim-perpetrator binary, identifies audiences with the transgressors, and constantly calls attention to its own fictionality. Movies like The Grand Budapest Hotel are evidence that Tarantino really did shatter the constraints of the genre. Basterds certainly makes no effort toward historical accuracy, but since its appeal depends on the audiences awareness of its inaccuracies, Tarantino is still elbow-deep in real history. Anderson is not. Budapest is a troubled film, haunted by invasions, wars, arrests, and displays of arbitrary power, many of which recall the Third Reich. The function of these ominous forces, however, is not to offer commentary on the Shoah but simply to recreate the illusory world of Stefan Zweig, on whose writings it was based. In producing a movie about Nazi-occupied Europe in which the troubles of the period are relegated mostly to the background, Anderson furthers the deconstruction of the Holocaust film genre, raising the possibility that such films can be historically serious without being bound by restrictive rules.

No description available.

Inspired by 2009 pastiche Inglourious Basterds (US/DE), my research presents counterfactual historical film, firstly, as a marginalised type of film: the 2000s and 2010s have seen an abundance of overtly fictional films which do not intend to represent the past but nonetheless playfully refer to imageries of National Socialist and Holocaust history. These films have so far been neglected by historical film studies which, despite a consensus not to judge films according to their factual accuracy, tend to focus on genres close to historiography. My research considers as historical films the counterfactual parodies Churchill: The Hollywood Years (GB 2004) and Mein Führer: Die wirklich wahrste Wahrheit über Adolf Hitler (DE 2007), as well as Inglourious Basterds and, in a brief conclusion, Nazi zombie films. In this sense, counterfactual historical film is, secondly, a research approach which suggests reconfiguring academic definitions of the field of history and film and historical film. Assuming that historical film never visualises past reality but engages with a history that is always already medialised, I propose that the above films despite their counterfactual plots embark on a visual historical discourse, and what is more reflect upon cinema and history in their own enlightening ways. My analyses show how twenty-first century counterfactual historical films revise Nazi and Holocaust visual history, and how they describe National Socialist history as visually constructed and historical Nazism as an eclectic amalgamation drawing on fictional as well as factual media sources. In regard to the present, they explore tensions between popular and academic culture through the dissolving binaries of fiction film and historiographical fact, and propose to recognise the reciprocity of media representation and actual past as an object of research in its own right. My research demonstrates the value of cinema's playful engagement with history as a potential contribution to the theory and practise of historical film studies.

Zeit/Geschichte: Amerikanische Alternate Histories nach 9/11 untersucht die Entwicklung kontrafaktischer Geschichtstexte, sogenannter alternate histories, vor dem Hintergrund des öffentlichen Diskurses in den USA nach dem 11. September 2001. Dabei konzentriert sich die Studie auf die formalen und generischen Eigenschaften neuerer „Mainstream-alternate histories“ seit den Terroranschlägen. Obwohl keiner der drei untersuchten Texte – Philip Roths The Plot Against America, Michael Chabons The Yiddish Policemen's Union sowie Quentin Tarantinos Inglourious Basterds – von den 9/11-Anschlägen handelt, geben doch alle drei Einblicke in die Beziehungen zwischen dem 9/11-Diskurs und jüngeren Entwicklungen im literarischen bzw. kulturellen Feld. Dabei erweist sich alternate history als ein Genre, das mit seiner thematischen, strukturellen und medialen Variabilität ermöglicht, 9/11-spezifische Veränderungen darzustellen und gleichzeitig den 9/11-Diskurs selbst zu beeinflussen. Die vorliegende Studie zeigt auf, wie sich die untersuchten Texte aktiv in den 9/11-Diskurs einschreiben, um nicht nur zeitgenössische Erfahrungen, Entwicklungen und Empfindungen, sondern auch Fragen nach Geschichte und Vergangenheitsdarstellungen zu beantworten.