Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs 9789048539239

Citation preview

Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture

Transmedia: Participatory Culture and Media Convergence The book series Transmedia: Participatory Culture and Media Convergence provides a platform for cutting-edge research in the field of media studies, with a strong focus on the impact of digitization, globalization, and fan culture. The series is dedicated to publishing the highest-quality monographs (and exceptional edited collections) on the developing social, cultural, and economic practices surrounding media convergence and audience participation. The term ‘media convergence’ relates to the complex ways in which the production, distribution, and consumption of contemporary media are affected by digitization, while ‘participatory culture’ refers to the changing relationship between media producers and their audiences. Both developments have required substantial (and still ongoing) redefinitions of existing media platforms, as the rapid interactions between technological developments and socio-cultural practices continue to pose challenges as well as offer new opportunities for media scholars from a variety of academic disciplines. Interdisciplinary by its very definition, the series will provide a publishing platform for international scholars doing new and critical research in relevant fields. While the main focus will be on contemporary media culture, the series is also open to research that focuses on the historical forebears of digital convergence culture, including histories of fandom, cross- and transmedia franchises, reception studies and audience ethnographies, and critical approaches to the culture industry and commodity culture. Series editors Dan Hassler-Forest, Utrecht University, the Netherlands Matt Hills, University of Aberystwyth, United Kingdom Editorial Board Henry Jenkins, University of Southern California, United States William Uricchio, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, United States Julia Knight, University of Sunderland, United Kingdom John Storey, University of Sunderland, United Kingdom Simone Murray, Monash University, Australia Eckart Voigts, Braunschweig Institute of Technology, Germany Timothy Corrigan, University of Pennsylvania, United States Roberta Pearson, University of Nottingham, United Kingdom Mark Bould, University of West of England, United Kingdom Sherryl Vint, University of California, Riverside, United States

Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs

Wikanda Promkhuntong

Amsterdam University Press

Cover illustration: Svettaporn Iresuriyaakesakul Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout isbn 978 94 6298 753 1 e-isbn 978 90 4853 923 9 doi 10.5117/9789462987531 nur 670 © W. Promkhuntong / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2023 All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book.



Table of Contents

Acknowledgements 7 Introduction 9

Part I East Asian Film Authorship, Transmedia Spaces, and Paratextual Economies 1. Film Festivals, Paratextual Networks, and the Mediated Auteur Life Cycle

39

2. Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

77

3. Textual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Transmedia Auteur Culture

119

Part II Text, Body, and Performance among East Asian Star-Auteurs 4. Co-creating an Assemblage of Selves through Commissioned Artworks 157 5. The Auteur in Crisis: Self-confessions and Performative Excess

195

6. Celebrity Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

219

Conclusion 249 Filmography 259 Index 267

Acknowledgements This book would not have been possible without the resources and materials on East Asian cinema and film authorship collected and created by film festivals, distributors, fan/cinephiles, critics, writers, and content creators who have written, shared, and circulated their works in the public domain over the years. These labours have not only contributed to the growth and evolvement of auteur culture, but also have made the study for this book possible. The process of completing this book took several years, and I am indebted to Prof. Matt Hills, who saw the potential of the project for the Transmedia Series and kindly supported me throughout the different stages of the book. Thank you also to Amsterdam University Press and Dr. Maryse Elliott, senior commissioning editor for film, media, and communication studies, for providing me with the needed time and support. Two important people who have inspired my interests in reception studies as well as aspects of film stardom and celebrity culture, which are the basis of this project, are Dr. Kate Egan and Dr. Sarah Thomas. I am ever so grateful to you both for everything. My time working at a public relations agency and the people I’ve met during those years also contributed to my interest in industrial and commercial discourses surrounding transnational cinema. Apart from the staff and friends from Aberystwyth University who have enriched my research journey, I also appreciate friends and mentors with whom I have discussed the idea of this book project. These include Prof. Kate Taylor-Jones, Assoc. Prof. Natthanai Prasannam, Dr. Emma Pett, Prof. Gary Rawnsley, and Dr. Ming-Yeh Rawnsley. I’m also grateful for Kong Rithdee, Dr. Philippa Lovatt, Dr. Graiwoot Chulphongsathorn, as well as Dr. Paul Newland and Dr. Jamie Sexton, who have provided feedback on different versions of my writing that resulted in this monograph. Thanks also to various organizations and people who have invited me to talk about different aspects of East Asian film authorship over the years. This helped sustain my energy to complete the monograph (despite the preference of academia in Thailand for early career researchers to focus on producing journal articles). These include Sahamongkol Film (via Khun Panu Aree), which organized a talk alongside the 4K retrospective screenings of Wong Kar-wai movies in Bangkok, the Thai Film Archive’s film lecture series, and classes at the College of Innovation, Thammasat University (via Dr. Veluree Metaveevinij). I’ve also benefited from conversations at the Association for Southeast Asian Cinema, the Asian Cinema Studies Society, and the

8

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Fan Studies Network. Additionally, I’m grateful to have the support of the Research Institute for Languages and Cultures of Asia (RILCA), Mahidol University, and many kind cinephiles in different places, including students I’ve taught and conversed with over the years. Thank you all. Last but not least, I am forever grateful for the love and encouragements of Dr. Peter Matthew David Scully, my parents, Somchai and Wanlapa Promkhuntong, and the rest of my family. Without their support, I might not have a chance to pursue an academic journey at all. I hope that this book is useful to everyone interested in East Asian cinema in the global film market and those exploring post-auteurism and self-reflective auteur studies in the future.

Introduction This book retrospectively looks at the phenomenon surrounding the global emergence of East Asian cinema through the figures of filmmakers and their persisting influence in transmedia domains fostered by networks of paratextual productions. As the landscape of contemporary auteur culture is fluid, then multi-agents, and continuously expanding, transmedia paratexts – plus a mode of self-reflective analysis – allow for the study of this auteur culture that involves diverse practices in different creative domains. Through following the life cycle of festivals’ digital archives, distributor marketing materials, official collectibles, cinephile writings, fan pilgrimage stories, fanvids, directors’ self-projections, and short films, all made by and in relation to East Asian filmmakers, collaborators, and supporters who have been associated with auteur culture, this book explores the intersections between academic and promotional discourses, as well as participatory cultures and performative self-reflections that have shaped contemporary film and media authorship in the last two decades. The first part of the book pays particular attention to paratextual assemblages surrounding film festivals, multi-platform distribution, and cinephile/ fan creative practices, where media paratexts have been individually and collaboratively created, rewritten, and shared to foster the auteur reputations of selected filmmakers. The second part examines the way individual auteurs and collaborators have responded to the transmedia circumstances that shaped their public recognition. The focus is on alternative modes of performative responses, storytelling, and creative productions that address individuals’ senses of self and relations with both the industry and the public. Across different chapters, discourses surrounding film authorship and East Asian cinema in the last two decades are revisited and expanded to engage with transmedia culture. As the individual chapters that follow will work through case studies on selected filmmakers, networks of collaborators, and their circumstances, this introduction instead contextualizes the book within broader areas of transnational East Asian cinema, post-auteurism and self-reflective auteur studies that intersect with the dimensions of contemporary transmedia culture to be explored later on.

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_intro

10 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

East Asian Film Authorship in Global Film and Media Flows Individual national cinemas from East Asia have long been the subject of interest outside the region, partly through its geopolitics as shaped by the legacy of colonialism and the Cold War divisions of geographical landscapes. In English-language writings, we can trace the interest of specific East Asian national cinemas with close associations to the West during the pre- and post-WWII period through writings by various historians, such as those on Japanese cinema by Donald Richie (see, for example, Anderson & Richie, 1982 [1959]; Richie, 1971). An earlier view on Japanese films through the recirculation of written records and references reveals an interest in humanist movies framed as film art through the names of directors, such as Akira Kurosawa and Yasujirō Ozu in the 1950s (see Bordwell, 1988; Richie, 1977, 1984 [1965]). The interest in art cinema at film festivals in Europe also fostered the exploration of other East Asian auteurs beyond those from Japan, as found in film magazine columns on Hou Hsiao-hsien from Taiwan in the 1980s, despite the inaccessibility of his films for general audiences (see Vitali, 2008). When focusing on a collective regional film unit, there had been attempts to create a pan-regional cinema in East Asia during the Cold War period by means of co-production, a regional film festival, and the import and export of films by national studios from Japan, Hong Kong, and South Korea (see Lee S., 2011; Lee, 2020). Nevertheless, in the global film market and academic contexts, the notion of East Asian cinema as a unit of analysis largely emerged in the 1990s and early 2000s. What makes this period stand out as the starting point of a prosperous time for East Asian regional cinema are collective forces such as a long period of political stability and democratization, the recovery from a regional financial crisis, and the emergence of new digital technologies. These circumstances, coupled with the situation of the local film industries in the globalized film market, led to the renaissance of national cinemas and various new waves within East Asia. Take, for example, the case of South Korea. After the end of Japanese colonial rule and the military dictatorship of the 1990s, a proactive cultural policy designed to boost its local film industry in competition with the influx of Hollywood films led to the revival and expansion of its film and media industries to an unprecedented scale. This included the launch of the Pusan (now Busan)1 International Film Festival in 1996 with links to European film festivals such as the International Film Festival Rotterdam to provide funding and film market for Asian directors 1 The festival official name has been changed to Busan International Film Festival (BIFF) since 24 February 2011 (Busan, n.d.).

Introduction

11

(Ahn, 2012, p. 103). Through scriptwriting competitions and new directing opportunities, many new filmmakers emerged through international film festival circuits (see Ahn, 2012; Choi, 2010; Shin & Stringer, 2005). Beyond the growth of individual national cinemas, the period of the 1990s and early 2000s also saw networks of global film production and distribution expanding support and collaboration to East Asian films. The extent to which the East Asian screen industries emerged as “an interconnected whole” (Davis & Yeh, 2008, p. 1) influencing both European and American media has been explored through regional structures of film policies, film distribution, finance and marketing, and genre cinema, especially in the context of film festivals in the early 2000s. Alongside East Asia as a regional grouping (in which the majority of countries typically included are actually in North Asia), the Southeast Asia independent cinema movement also emerged in the early 2000s following a generation of overseas film graduates, the digital boom, and cross-media cultural productions. Distinctly different from commercial studio films from previous eras, such regional production brought together elements of experimental movies, narrative cinema, and documentary filmmaking (for more on this, see Baumgärtel, 2012). In the region, new generations of East Asian f ilmmakers have been celebrated within film industry networks through programmes such as the Busan International Film Festival’s special focus on the “Remapping of Asian Auteur Cinema” in 2005 (Ahn, 2008, p. 257) and the Hong Kong International Film Festival’s “Masters & Auteurs” programme in 2013 (HKIFF, 2013). In the global film market, some of the moments which illustrate the elevating position of East Asian cinema through film authorship include the discovery of Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express in 1994 at the Stockholm International Film Festival by the then up-and-coming filmmaker of Pulp Fiction (1994), Quentin Tarantino. A representative of the 1990s “Asiaphile” (Hunt, 2008), Tarantino enthusiastically endorsed the distribution of Wong’s film via the subsidiary DVD label associated with Hollywood’s Miramax (see Desser, 2016). In the burgeoning year of 2004, Time magazine’s film critic Richard Corliss used the catchphrase “Asian Invasion” to describe the situation in France at the 57th Cannes Film Festival when four out of eight of the festival’s main prizes were given to winners from South Korea, Thailand, Japan, and Hong Kong (Corliss, 2004).2 Tarantino, as the president 2 At the Cannes International Film Festival in 2004, Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy (2003) won the Grand Prize while Apichatpong’s Tropical Malady (2004) won the Jury Prize. In the same year, Yûya Yagira from Japan won the Best Actor prize for Nobody Knows (2004) and Maggie Cheung from Hong Kong won the Best Actress award for Clean (2004) (Unifrance, 2004).

12 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

of the jury, also pushed forward the South Korean film Oldboy (2003) as the Palm d’Or winner at the Cannes Film Festival in 2004 (Pulver, 2004). Asian Invasion was also used as the title of Jonathan Ross’s three-episode documentary broadcast in 2006 on the British arts television channel, BBC Four (Desmond, 2015). The programme was structured around a visit to survey the film industries of Japan, Hong Kong, and South Korea and interviews with selected filmmakers. As observed by the New York Times a few years earlier, the unprecedented success of East Asian cinema in Europe and elsewhere led to the sudden “ubiquity” of films from the region in both “art and commercial theaters,” including the contemplative movies of Edward Yang, stylish films of Wong Kar-wai, and the Hollywood co-productions of Ang Lee (Kehr, 2001). Through the growth of film festivals as cultural events in different global cities, increased DVD distribution, and the rise of digital culture, East Asian cinema was collectively established as a geo-cultural unit or a brand in the global film market. It was at this time that East and Southeast Asian cinema was discussed in relation to the global cinematic landscapes of art cinema and commercial film in academic works. Existing scholarly works largely paid attention to the subjects explored in these films in relation to identity politics, national sociopolitical circumstances, and crossover genre developments. However, what remained consistent in writings on East Asian cinema was the recognition of films through the figures of key filmmakers as auteurs. Significantly, the idea of film authorship as a theoretical concept was itself contextualized in relation to East Asian cinema for the first time in film studies books in the early 2000s. The fourth edition of The Cinema Book (Cook, 2007), which featured a still from House of Flying Daggers (2004) as the cover image, added Wong Kar-wai as part of its chapter devoted to auteurism. And in 2011, Wallflower Press’s Dekalog series also dedicated its fourth edition to introducing contemporary East Asian auteurs, including Zhang Yimou, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, and Naomi Kawase (Taylor-Jones, 2011). Significantly, since the 2010s onwards, cultures of East Asian film authorship have also expanded into collaborations across creative industries, diverse supporters, and fan groups. In 2010, the first Thai/Southeast Asian filmmaker, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, won the Cannes Film Festival’s prestigious Palm d’Or award. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives was part of a large-scale transmedia storytelling project called “Primitive” commissioned by Haus der Kunst, Munich, with FACT Liverpool and Animate Projects, which expanded its audiences in different locations (see Barea, 2020). The global recognition of East Asian auteurs also significantly benefited from user-generated content and streaming platforms at a scale

Introduction

13

that had not been possible before. Despite limited transnational promotion, the films of Wong Kar-wai have gained wider exposure through fan mash-ups and user-generated content online since the early 2000s. Through digital platforms, news of 4K restorations and global theatrical tours of every film by Wong Kar-wai were widely circulated by the industry press and film fans (Sharf, 2019). In 2020, the South Korean film Parasite becoming the first foreign-language film to win the Best Picture Oscar along with three other awards3 also led to the film being the most cited movie on the social media platform Twitter with 1.6 million tweets worldwide (see Kim, 2020). And during the global Covid-19 pandemic, when film events and festivals were postponed or shifted to online platforms, East Asian auteur culture has continued to proliferate through digital media. Amongst the myriad of online screenings, interviews, and publications, the Dutch film magazine Filmkrant published a Covid-19 essay by Jia Zhang-ke from his quarantine in Beijing and a reflection on cinema in the post-pandemic time by the Palm d’Or recipient Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul from his home in Chiang Mai (Filmkrant, 2020). Looking back across two decades, in parallel with East Asian cinema gaining recognition in the global film industry through the figures of filmmakers, edited collections on film/media authorship have begun to add case studies on non-Anglo European directors, as well as other marginalized groups, such as female and queer directors (Chris & Gerstner, 2013; Gerstner & Staiger, 2003; Grant, 2008; Gray & Johnson, 2013; Wexman, 2003). David A. Gerstner and Janet Staiger’s Authorship and Film (2003) and Virginia Wright Wexman’s Film and Authorship (2003) both particularly highlighted the previous dismissal of the subject of authorship in Western academic contexts at a time when marginalized directors were beginning to gain international attention. Coinciding with this group of works, the majority of academic texts on transnational East Asian cinema have paid attention to the works of those auteurs which reveal circumstances of identity politics, regional, and transnational connections, and new aesthetic experimentation (Ciecko, 2006; Hunt & Leung, 2008; Lee V. P. Y., 2011). Expanding from these starting points to highlight the way film authorship has maintained its relevance through the growth of participatory culture and transmedia networks, this book examines the subject of East Asian cinema and film authorship through entering into dialogue with developments in reception studies, media studies, and theories of participatory culture. 3 Parasite won a total of four Academy Awards, namely Best Picture, Best Director, Best International Feature Film and Best Original Screenplay (Dove, 2020).

14 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

East Asian film authorship in this context is a commercial category and a media currency in the global film market, which largely privileges male film directors associated with the emergence of specific national cinemas. The exploration of East Asian film authorship as a unit of analysis here resonates with Simon Hobbs’s (2018) discussion of the notion of extreme (European) art cinema as a global cultural and commercial category. In his work, Hobbs traces the legacy of extreme art films that emerged in the 1990s and highlights the “intersectional nature” (2018, p. 6) of art and cult that weave into the notion of “extreme cinema” in commercial domains. Hobbs draws on the idea of “cultural triangulation” by Mark Betz in which “one aspect or taste economy [be it art, exploitative or populist] can be situated at the apex of the triangle while still being connected to the others” (2018, p. 35). In a similar way, as a cultural and commercial category, East Asian cinema has been known globally through auteur figures associated with different taste cultures ranging from art or cult to avant-garde. What sustains the auteur status associated with different filmmakers are clusters of discourses or frames of reference adopted by different agents in the film industry as a kind of “system of value” (Hobbs, 2018, p. 71) for film promotion, marketing, and distribution. This discursive system of value is connected to the (para)textual productions and material cultures shaping film and media authorship in different periods, from film festivals’ themed programmes, catalogues, modes of distribution, and promotional materials, to different forms of fan works. As a mediated and materialist category, the notion of East Asian film authorship, similar to Hobbs’s notion of (European) extreme cinema, can reveal a great deal about the “social life” (2018, p. 27) of the films and individuals shaped by circumstances in the market and public domains. Resonating with, but also extending from, Hobbs’s emphasis on marketing and commercialism, the case studies in this book explore the network of media flows that has shaped East Asian auteur culture, moving from the institutional context of film festivals through to film distribution (both formally through the growth of DVD, second-hand film markets, and streaming platforms, and informally through local and transnational cinephile and fan networks). Each case study highlights how the film industry’s system of value is sustained but also opened to debate by different agents beyond that of the industry as well as across different geographies. Attention will be paid to how auteur culture is shaped by various agents, promotional discourses, and memories of past authorship debates. Although the exploration of mediated social life does not represent the totality of what East Asian cinema is all about, this book stresses the importance of the public domain in shaping a sense of self for subsequent

Introduction

15

generations of filmmakers as well as the ecology of relations and connections that have supported films from this region over time. As certain frames of references have shifted or been cancelled out, others have been amplified or sustained, making them into the conditions of public visibility for films and filmmakers in transnational film markets. In taking this kind of approach, the notion of film authorship requires revisiting and expansion, as will be elaborated on further in the next part of this introductory chapter.

Post-Auteurism and Reflective Auteur Studies In film studies classrooms, the subject of film authorship often focuses on the background of “la politique des auteur” (Bazin, 1985) and the “auteur theory” (Sarris, 1962) and their subsequent critiques. As an exercise, selected Anglo-European films can be examined through these past frameworks. My starting point on the subject of authorship in relation to transnational East Asian cinema is grounded in the period of the early 2000s when the analysis of film authorship was going through a revival along with shifting in focus to incorporate previously marginalized filmmakers, “the demand side” of authorship (Grant, 2000, p. 106), and collective agents that fostered this long-existing concept in contemporary film and transmedia culture. Various terms have been used to refer to this new era of auteur studies, including “post-auteurism” (Verhoeven, 2009, p. 22) and a turn “beyond auteurism” (Maule, 2008). A key characteristic of scholarly works in this period concerns recognition of the self-reflective dimensions of the construction of film authorship both by the film industry and in relation to the role of the media as well as audiences and filmmakers themselves. Reflecting on the conditions that shaped the career and media interactions of the Australian female auteur Jane Campion, for example, Deb Verhoeven has offered an illuminating account of this transitioning period of auteur studies, broadly described as the “posthumous nature of contemporary authorship” (Verhoeven, 2009, p. 23). By this stage, there had already been long debates on the importance of, and the move away from, an “auteurism of metaphysics” (Polan, in Verhoeven, 2009, p. 22) or “authorship as origin” (Staiger, 2003, p. 31), which focused on the inner artistic vision of an individual filmmaker. Verhoeven mentions Roland Barthes and Michel Foucault, whose writings on authorship were often recalled to signal the passing of classical authorship (2009, p. 23). The “post-” situation emphasizes an awareness of past debates on the power and politics of the film canon, and critical evaluations, including the issues of gender and

16 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

race, taste culture, and ideology. This “post-” stage opens up new avenues for reflective author studies. One key line of exploration in the post-authorship period can be traced to interest in the sociology of culture and the question of aesthetic recognition and value judgement within film and art worlds. The work of Robert E. Kapsis (1992) is amongst those accounts which explored the changing reputation of a filmmaker as an auteur based on sociocultural circumstances. Kapsis used reception materials, including public biography and correspondence between Alfred Hitchcock and others, to reveal the circumstances which altered Hitchcock’s reputation over time. This method also resonates with the study of delayed appreciations of Douglas Sirk’s films by Barbara Klinger (1994). Around that same period, Timothy Corrigan also expanded the notion of authorship in relation to the commercial world. Through “the commerce of auteurism” people can and do engage with the auteur brand and star persona apart from watching their films (Corrigan, 1991, p. 101). Nuances of film authorship in the expanded film and media landscape have also been discussed in relation to the creation and promotion of “post-production” auteurs in Hollywood (Lewis, 2007, p. 71). Focusing on technologies that have shaped film auteurs on screen, academic works have explored the agency of new auteurs through DVD commentary and behind-the-scenes stories (see Brookey & Westerfelhaus, 2002, 2005; Grant, 2008; Klinger, 2008; Sheldon, 2020). Taken together, these works highlight new debates on authorship in relation to the broader film culture and media industries. What these works also shared is the sentiment and approach of being consciously aware of the appeal and the constructed nature of the term “auteur” and its continuous usage in the media by various agents for critical and commercial purposes. As film authorship engages with different sociocultural circumstances, post-auteurism “invites us to retrospectively reconsider the precepts of classical auteurism itself” and embrace a “pluralism of approaches” (Verhoeven, 2009, p. 23). The emergence of East Asian cinema through auteur figures in the last two decades alongside the revival of academic works on authorship led to a series of questions I had regarding how and why certain directors from this region gained extensive and enduring visibility in the global media landscapes. What are the discourses shaping the consecration and celebration of these directors into the “art world”? Who are the other less visible “agents” shaping their reputations? What are the structural conditions shaping their inclusion in the group of “elite auteurs” (White, 2015, p. 22), which largely constituted male directors? These questions shaped the two parts of this book. As mentioned, the first part focuses on the transmedia paratextual economies shaping the

Introduction

17

reputation making of selected directors. This part draws attention to the networked and mediated spaces of film festival, film distribution, and fan practices, in order to reflect on changing discourses around East Asian film authorship over time. The second part deals with the aftermath of the highly media-saturated world of auteur culture by examining the way individual filmmakers responded to their statuses as celebrity/star-auteur4 in their own different ways. This part therefore engages with the way individual filmmakers adopted/performed/negotiated with the discursive system and infrastructure supporting their global visibilities through their own forms of self-projections. The formulation of these reflective auteur studies has been developed from my research in the making and marketing of Wong Kar-wai as an “auteur” through a broad survey of Wong’s reputation-making strategies using Kapsis’s (1992) combined approaches of “the art world” perspective and reception studies, and Corrigan’s (1991) notion of the “commerce of auteurism.” Through exploring various reception materials (particularly film reviews, director interviews, and public profiles), I found that Wong’s reputation was developed by self-promotional strategies and critical discourses similar to those surrounding notable Western auteurs like Alfred Hitchcock. While these directors are associated with different film industries, their reputations have both relied on a favourable critical climate, connections with gatekeepers of art house cinema, Western cinematic traditions, and a certain degree of self-promotion. This work was later developed into a paper discussing Wong’s unique public reputation and auteur persona highlighting aspects of “cultural hybridity” and branding associated with popular culture (See Promkhuntong, 2014). Another preliminary work was a doctoral project which took a multidimensional approach that investigated contexts, discourses, and agencies with a Bourdieusian reflection on the reputation making of East Asian directors. As an extensively expanded monograph project5 which looks back on the mediated cultural lives of film authorship as well as its transmedia future, 4 Timothy Corrigan used the term “auteur-star” to discuss the reputations of filmmakers in the Anglo-European context who are well-known beyond their films (1990, p. 48, 1991, p. 105). Throughout this work I referred to the term “auteur-star” or “auteur-stardom” in relation to Corrigan’s work. I’ve also adopted the term “star-auteur” to highlight the public personas/ reputations of the filmmakers. Here, the term “auteur” is the key noun/object of analysis while the term “star” is an adjective highlighting the characteristics of the auteur’s public visibility. 5 This project is conducted as part of the research and book writing project โครงการวิจ ยั และผลิตหน งั สือ “Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Cultures: Global Success of Asian Auteurs” at the Research Institute for Languages and Cultures of Asia (RILCA), Mahidol University, Thailand.

18 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

this book draws on the notion of paratext (and its related term, “palimpsest”) to bring forth the idea of self-reflexive authorship as a method of examining the global reputations of East Asian filmmakers. Before moving on to discuss the development of paratextual studies, I’d like to add further reflection on the rationale behind choosing to explore paratexts and agents surrounding three East Asian filmmakers – Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Kim Ki-duk, and Wong Kar-wai, and conditions that render them visible at the time that the notion of East Asian cinema has become a commercial category in the global film market. One of the key aspects that dominates early discussions on East Asian film authorship and remains an influential frame of reference, particularly for new directors, is the notion of “national cinema.” This concept has been closely tied to the idea of a “new wave” or a new generation of filmmakers from a specif ic country outside the hegemonic market of Hollywood that gains global media attention. During the rise of East Asian auteurs in the early 2000s, films from East Asia were historicised and theorised within the context of a specific national cinema and collectively within the growing frameworks of regional and transnational cinemas, which address the global flow of festival funding, networks of film distribution, as well as expansive reception. To encapsulate the geographical discourse that has been intertwined with authorship, the selection of case studies intends to cover representative filmmakers from the then growing market of South Korea, an already established market of Hong Kong, and an emerging context of Southeast Asia – whereby specif ic countries such as Thailand and the Philippines have started to be included in books on transnational East Asian cinema (see, for example, Hunt & Leung 2008). Although referring to f ilmmakers with global visibility as a national representative can be problematic as these directors often challenge the rigid idea of identity and sense of belonging and they also work transnationally, in the promotional and commercial contexts, national cinema continues to be a discursive category to introduce directors outside the Anglo-European contexts. Another condition that shaped the selection of the case studies was the diverse sites that generate discourses on film authorship, in other words, the sites of reputation making of canonical East Asian filmmakers. These include the space with close ties to the development of film authorship such as film festival and trade press, the context of film distribution – which generates its own promotional materials and marketing discourses, and spaces of fans and cinephile practices. As the notion of film authorship has been expanded to cover a wide range of taste cultures, the case studies also

Introduction

19

consider the spectrum of authorship in relation to intermedia/avant-garde works, cult films, and the popular end of art cinema. With the above criteria in mind, a collection of paratexts evolving around the careers of Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Kim Ki-duk and Wong Kar-wai were collected over time from around 2012 up until 2022. I am acutely aware that when placing these names together within the idea of film authorship, selected names are all male. Although Weerasethakul identifies himself as gay and has mentioned the desire not to be pinned down to a particular national/transnational category,6 when grouped with directors such as Wong Kar-wai, they are both part of the established authorial canon with prestigious awards from top-tier film festivals. As will be illustrated, this visibility requires cultivation, negotiation, and maintenance through their consistent productivity as well as the network of funders, collaborators, critics, distributors, supporters, and fans, many of whom are also women. The mentioning of the name Kim Ki-duk is somewhat more problematic. As the book is being written and edited, the long-standing debates regarding the extreme content in his films and the incident in which an actress, Lee Na-young, became unconscious during the filming of a suicide scene in Dream (2008) (Lee H.-w., 2014) has been expanded out to an investigative TV exposé in the South Korean media that Kim and his regular actor Cho Jae-hyeon committed rape and assaults (Rose, 2018). The case related to the film Moebius (2013) further led to a court case in 2017. Kim was fined for slapping an actress but the sexual abuse charge was dropped due to lack of evidence. This led to the subsequent calling out of Kim Ki-duk at the height of the #MeToo movement in 2018 (Brzeski, 2018) and debates around his authorial position upon the news of his death during the Covid-19 pandemic. As regard to this specific director, Chapter 2 revisits the opportune moments when Kim emerged in the global film circuit along with discourses on national cinema and cult film authorship, which largely undermined the gender dimension. While a number of critics who protested the canonization of the director have signalled the sense of “knowing all along” (Boyle, 2019, p. 4) or knowing for some time about his behaviour, other supporters and fans were drawn into the debate upon the news of his death. By engaging with scholarship on #MeToo and the subject of male perpetrators with media statuses, Chapter 2 also draws attention to the discourse on authorial 6 This point was mentioned in respond to a question on whether he sees himself locating within the context of Thai cinema or those working outside. He wittily responded “Can I be both?” A personal observation from the event “In Conversation with Apichatpong Weerasethakul” at SOAS in October 2015.

20 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

ethos and ethical consumption of film fans. As regards to this director’s own responses, Part II of the book (Chapter 5) also discusses performative self-confessions and the idea of an outsider/a suffering artist that functioned to disguise earlier abuses. By tracing the global visibility of the three filmmakers, the book reveals that despite the long-time punctuating question on the male-dominated legacy of auteurism, gender has rarely been structurally included in critical and commercial discourses on East Asian film authorship. This exclusion has recently become part of the industry interest itself when an individual has been singled out as being morally corrupted or “a monstrous other” (Boyle, 2019, p. 101), which might or might not lead to future structural changes. Apart from the intersection between authorship and gender, paratextual materials discussed in the book also introduce different discursive frames that emerged in the last two decades. These include aspects of co-branding, co-creation, experiential cinema, micro-authorship, celebrity culture, and fan and cinephile participations. The examination of these expanded contexts therefore hopes to be productive in offering new ways of (re) examining film authorship in an increasingly volatile transmedia screen culture.

Examining Transmedia Auteur Culture through Networks of Paratexts The persistence of auteur culture associated with East Asian cinema grew out of the diversification of the cinematic landscape to include broader creative industries, and where film festivals, distributors, and audiences all contributed to the idea of an auteur brand, both internally via their strategic communications across platforms as well as organically via ad hoc participation by associated parties. Film authorship is still, as it has been, crucially located at cultural institutions such as the film festival, but the festival site itself has become increasingly mediated, with different partners, collaborators, and storytellers made visible through online news releases, print publications, weblogs, video communications, and social media. This, in turn, has generated numerous materials shaping the viewing of festival-premiered films and filmmakers. In the last two decades, the funding and production of films has also increasingly been incorporated as part of a larger intermedial project, e.g. expanding out from a short f ilm or in relation to a series of collaborative projects and comprising of different modes of communication and performative

Introduction

21

practices facilitated by different partners in f ilm/media industries and cultural institutions. Once a f ilm has been purchased for circulation, distributors have also engaged in the knowledge production of auteur culture through their role in shaping the meaning of that film, with certain levels of authority being assigned to the filmmaker/stars/the distributor’s own brand, amongst other parties. Facilitated by digital access to the films and extra materials in various formats, audiences are also able to engage with auteur culture in different ways, from textual production through to material creation, and even visits to various related f ilm locations. To borrow the term that emerged around the same time as the boom in transnational East Asian cinema in the early 2000s, film authorship has become part of “convergence culture,” whereby forms of engagement are shaped by communications across different media by all parties involved (see Jenkins, 2006). The previous works I mentioned earlier (Corrigan, 1991; Klinger, 1994; Lewis, 2007) have explored media-specific or network-specific connections that played a significant role in developing a director’s reputation at different times. The traces and empirical evidence of the growth of auteur culture across different platforms by different agents, including filmmakers themselves, have been addressed in areas of study such as the DVD and the making of film authorship (Brookey & Westerfelhaus, 2002, 2005; Grant, 2008; Klinger, 2008), but not in relation to the large-scale convergent media universe that has been consolidated across the past two decades. To unpack this wider convergence auteur culture shaping East Asian cinema, I will begin with materials associated with the career progression of representative East Asian filmmakers. I’ll start with channels closely associated with the selected filmmakers, then expand outwards to cover areas of film funding and production, distribution, and film fans. In the earlier stages of this work, I employed content analysis and multimodal discourse analysis to explore recurring themes, discourses, and practices in relation to film authorship and East Asian cinema. In the process, I found that the format of different types of archival materials and their channels of circulation could also play a part in shaping collective engagements with auteur culture. The creation, circulation, and assemblage of connections across paratexts and the associated term “palimpsest” are therefore useful in drawing attention to the evolving nature of auteur culture and convergent media engagement. Initially used in the field of literary studies by Gerard Genette, a paratext is a category of additional text that shapes the meaning of the book itself such as a book’s cover, typeface, and preface (or peritext), along with

22 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

external items such as interviews and authorial correspondence (epitext) (Genette, 1997; Genette & Maclean, 1991).7 These versions of paratext are theorized as functioning to create a consistent impression of the work, as intended by the writer and publisher. With the advent of material and digital culture linking literary, f ilm, and media cultures, the notion of paratext has been re-examined as a possible way to push the study of promotional texts from the analytical periphery and into the spotlight, while also destabilizing the hierarchy of the source text and its supposedly monolithic authorship. In an influential monograph by Jonathan Gray (2010) focusing on different forms of paratexts – from DVD extras, trailers, and spoilers through to user-generated content – a broader definition of the term was proposed, paying attention to the way in which we can encounter paratexts independently of the text they supposedly serve, and in different time frames before, in media res, or after the main text, or even without encountering it altogether. These paratextual contents, when paid due attention, allow for the exploration of multiple voices which play a key role in shaping the main text and imply multiple authorships/agencies which have previously been under-explored. Apart from the development of paratextual studies as part of media studies that brings forth a network of relations surrounding the films and the filmmakers as a key object of analysis, when considering the related term “palimpsests,” paratexts can also be developed as a method to consider the temporality and persistence of auteur culture. I contend that the term “palimpsest,” which invokes a dimension of cultural memories that are linked to a burden of, and at times a longing for, the past, can be drawn on to explore the revival of film authorship through digital cinephilia in the early 2000s and the re-circulation of canonical auteur memories in today’s social media. To highlight this discursive historiography of film authorship, the next part takes a quick look into the “palimpsestuous” nature of auteur paratexts before moving on to discuss two other characteristic focal points which have driven the persistence of auteur culture in the last two decades: transmedia and participatory auteur culture, and the poetics and ethos of the self in paratexts. 7 Paratexts, in light of Genette’s writing after he published Palimpsests, focuses specifically on talks and texts surrounding source materials (the content of the book), from the closest spheres of preface, introduction, book cover, typeface, etc. (which he specified as “peritexts” or paratexts within the book) through to further associations with the source text from outside it, such as interviews with the author and reviews by critics (specified through the term “epitexts”). These materials prepare readers/viewers to get to know a text in some way.

Introduction

23

Persistent Discourses and Affective Pasts: The Palimpsestuous Nature of Auteur Paratexts As the title of Genette’s book published prior to Paratexts, Palimpsests explores different textual practices labelled to various degrees as “imitation” or “transformation” such as genres of parody and pastiche, or texts which contain aspects of intertextuality. In these practices, layers of generative memories come into play. In his work, Genette drew a limit to the term “palimpsest” when the whole of text B had been derived from the whole of text A (1997 [1982], p. 9), analyzing relations between what he termed hypertext (the latter, indebted text) and hypotext (the earlier, source text). With this parameter, Genette focused on the history of writing through the agency of authors and publishers instead of readers. The potential function of the concept of the palimpsest has, however, been expanded by others into the process of reading, enabling an openness to unexpected memories and new imaginations. Via an interest in memory and the processes of writing and rewriting, the term has been developed in various disciplines, including psychology, architecture, urban studies, and historiography. Sarah Dillon (2005, 2007) has traced the expansion of the term to studies of ancient manuscripts and the starting point of Thomas De Quincey’s work, which connected “palimpsest” with the mind’s memories. Drawing on the term “involuted,” noted by De Quincey as “the way in which ‘our deepest thoughts and feelings pass to us through perplex combinations of concrete objects […] in compound experiences incapable of being disentangled’” (Dillon, 2005, p. 4), the palimpsest becomes a metaphor that encourages the process of imagining and creating relations of new history in the present encounter with past memories. The revisiting of sites, events, and everyday circumstances can create a process of resurfacing, or a re-inscription of forgotten subjects, narratives, and discourses. This aspect brings to life the past that may have been overlooked, rubbed out, or written over. Dillon (2005, p. 253) refers to the contexts of postcolonial, feminist, and queer studies as being amongst those areas in which the palimpsest can be illuminated. This aspect of the palimpsest, which Dillon referred to specifically as “palimpsestuousness” (2005, p. 244), can function alongside Gray’s (2010) notion of paratextuality. While paratexts bring to the fore textual agencies which have previously been on the margins, palimpsests likewise push forward elements of the past which have been left in the background. Revisiting Dillon’s work, De Groote also addresses the incomplete nature of memories and the way that there are persistent remainders as well as things lost. The palimpsest, then,

24 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

is not only something that re-appears after being written over but rather “a thing created” (De Groote, 2014, p. 199). Such a characteristic is rooted in this book’s post-auteur self-reflexivity, which unearths various debates and politics that continue to haunt present-day conversations on film authorship. Viewing auteur social life (i.e. the cultural activation of auteurist discourses) through paratexts – keeping in mind the palimpsestuousness of the materials – resonates with the way Hobbs talks about paratexts through the combined notion of Jacques Derrida’s concept of “trace” and John Ellis’s framework of “narrative image” (2018, p. 32). Trace, as Hobbs cites from Spivak’s work, is “the mark of absence, a memory bestowed with past meaning or significance” (2018, p. 32). When looking at paratexts such as the material object of a film through a designed DVD, with its choice of images, taglines, font design or colour, these elements inevitably “evoke a memory within the mind of the audience” (2018, p. 32) in relation to past usage. The combination of these elements can also shift the meanings and social life of the film in different contexts. While trace can have a positive effect in allowing under-explored voices and connections amongst conversations on film authorship to emerge, it can also have an unfavourable effect via the repetition of things that may be over-represented. In the case studies in this book, I try to tread a line between highlighting recurring aspects within paratexts while drawing attention to things on the margin and subjects that have been altered or erased over time. Through fragments of paratexts, certain pre-existing discourses can be shown to resurface while other new connections emerge. One of the recurring kinds of memory and discourse that palimpsestuously resurfaces in relation to East Asian cinema and film authorship in the paratexts throughout my case studies is geopolitical. The visibility of f ilms from various countries in East Asia in the global f ilm market through the figures of their filmmakers has long been tied to the sense of place given to both films and filmmakers. This is due to long-standing institutional and Anglo-American structures that have promoted such films via canonical histories of film authorship in the English language. This mode of identification gives visibility to individual films in relation to the pool of movies presented in an international context. As a kind of cultural classification (visible through film profiles, director’s biography, thematic film programmes, film reviews, etc.), national and regional associations demarcate these films for wider Anglo-American audiences and give them ways to read and process the films and filmmakers. While this is not the only way to frame such films and their filmmakers, it has undeniably been the recurring mode of introduction in English-speaking public domains.

Introduction

25

As East Asian films and filmmakers have become well-known and earned their places in global cinema, the geopolitical framework has shifted to other discourses associated with cultural landscape and supporting networks. As will be explored, the filmmakers whose works and social lives continue to encourage participation across different cultural sites and sociopolitical circumstances are the ones most likely to sustain their reputations over time. Another discursive trace found across my case studies is the increasing intersection of the notion of authorship with different taste cultures and cultural associations. This phenomenon reflects the global movement within film and screen cultures at large in which the hierarchical distinctions between different arts and cultural histories are problematized not only by academics – see, for example, the exploration of international art cinema as “intermedia” and “intercultural” (Nagib & Jerslev, 2014, p. xviii) – but also via film funding and consumption. In the process of revisitation, the palimpsestuousness of paratexts and past traditions of auteur culture are being re-evaluated and problematized. Extending from the past paratextual lives, I now turn to the two characteristics focal points of film authorship in transmedia culture.

Transmedia and Participatory Auteur Culture When referring to the term “transmedia,” a notion of transmedia storytelling has been established through Henry Jenkins’s exploration of different forms of convergence culture (2006). Drawing attention to the model of The Matrix franchise, Jenkins’s discussion focused on the expansive narratives moving across various texts and products, such as the films, games, and TV series produced systematically by industrial auteurs. The subsequent expansion of transmedia studies highlights processes of world building, including the way a particular brand encourages engagements across platforms in “a mode of themed storytelling” that may evolve in dynamic ways. This broader term has been conceptualized as the building of experiences across and between the borders where multiple media platforms coalesce, altogether refining our understanding of this phenomenon as specifically a mode of themed storytelling that, by blending content and promotion, fiction and non-fiction, commerce and democratization, experience and participation, affords immersive, emotional experiences that join up with the social world in dynamic ways. (Freeman & Gambarato, 2019, p. 10, my emphasis)

26 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

The notion of transmedia in relation to contemporary film authorship explored in this book relates to the above definition. Nevertheless, there are different dimensions and details that can be highlighted to illuminate the aspects of transmediality that generate growth in auteur culture further. At the level of film text, the kind of films and filmmakers engaged with the notion of transmedia are those that are open to connections within and outside film culture and canonical film traditions. Transmedia storytelling further extends the notion of intertextuality which was previously associated with cinephile culture, whereby a particular film creates references to past canonical films, artworks, and/or literature as a form of tribute or homage to admired former directors/artists. Through the logic of transmedia, a growing auteur culture is facilitated by texts which encourage connections across various taste cultures and media industries beyond the art and film world, including music, fashion, and all kinds of popular culture. At the level of film reception, the experience is facilitated by both digital and material cultures, connecting the film reception experience to many other forms of cultural consumption and production. In this context, a film text can be split into snapshots or mashed up with other texts by fans, including comic strips, memes, television dramas, web series etc. (see recent case studies in Jin, 2020; Khiun & Lee, 2020). More recently, the subject of transmedia in relation to East Asian cinema has also encouraged further exploration into the connections between different forms of cultural activities and cinema, such as craft works, theatre performances, pop-up exhibitions, and interior design. Extending from the film text and its open-ended nature, the transmediality associated with film authorship in this book also draws attention to the increasing collaboration, co-funding, and commissioning of projects by various partners in the art world, along with commercial and governmental agencies. This results in the creation of short films, video art, installations, and performance art that are connected in terms of storyline, auteurist aesthetics, f ilm stars, and sociopolitical explorations. This dimension coincides with the increased expansion of cinema experience into multiple screen cultures. It also reflects assorted funding avenues for filmmakers beyond the realm of the traditional film industry. One example of industrial transmediality and East Asian film authorship is the creation of various works beyond feature films that have been funded by consumer brands, and that continue to highlight a filmmaker’s auteur status and creative agency while also opening up the engagement of audiences outside the film festival circuit. Amongst the many chapters on different areas of recent transmedia research, Max Giovagnoli’s work on transmedia branding draws attention to the highly successful car brand

Introduction

27

BMW’s transmedia campaign which hired notable filmmakers and stars to take part in a commercial series called The Hire (2001). Released on the internet, sold on DVDs, and also incorporated into an alternate reality game with a luxury car as the prize, this resulted in “a hundred million views for the videos, one million DVDs sold, and 17 percent global sales growth of the two [BMW car] models involved in the project” (Giovagnoli, 2019, p. 253). Giovagnoli mentions Guy Ritchie, Madonna, and Clive Owen as the director and stars featured in one of the series. Another filmmaker involved as part of this project, and which Giovagnoli does not mention, was Wong Kar-wai. Extending from industry engagement, the part directed by the Hong Kong filmmaker8 was later circulated on YouTube by various film fans, and given added fan subtitles, including Spanish (Portillo, 2016) and Chinese (Ivanowa13, 2009). This content can be found on YouTube alongside a series of Wong’s other commercials, mash-ups, and fan homage videos. Reflecting the ecology of textual production that shapes auteur culture, the organic spin-offs of Wong Kar-wai’s brand via everyday media engagements by fans and cinephiles – often problematically omitted in writings on film authorship – are just as important as the official creation of transmedia paratexts. These transmedia fan products are explored in the first part of the book. Other instances explored in the first part include the convergence culture and themed storytelling/transmedia engagements that take place via film festivals, the art world, and associated agents in relation to Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Significantly, in these processes of transmedia paratextual production, the very notion of authorship is expanded into network relations, thus reflecting the way in which auteur culture is now a kind of participatory culture. Aaron Delwiche and Jennifer Jacobs Henderson cited Henry Jenkin’s work as a starting point to reflect on participatory culture as a form of cultural participation with relatively low barriers to artistic expression and civic engagement, strong support for creating and sharing one’s creations, and some type of informal mentorship whereby what is known by the most experienced is passed along to novices. (Jenkins, 2006, p. 7 cited in Delwiche and Henderson, 2013, p. 3)

Keeping this definition in mind, the term “participatory culture” in relation to the notion of authorship opens up the concept to investigating the 8

Played by Clive Owen, Forest Whitaker, Adriana Lima, and Mickey Rourke.

28 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

agency of all the many participants involved in auteur culture rather than just focusing on an embodied/centred “auteur.” Film authorship involves the production and circulation of transmedia paratexts whereby the commercial and social identity of an auteur is formed through participation by collaborators, critics, fans, festival programmers, and distributors, amongst the myriads of agents which shape auteur culture at large. While it is possible to reflect on the fact that film authorship has always been a kind of participatory culture, the involvement of different parties becomes more prominently visible in the age of digital media through paratextual links and cross-references across different cultural domains beyond institutional cinephilia. To further elaborate on the notion of film authorship as a form of participatory culture is to break down the notion of authorship into multiple clusters of agents circulating in different processes of film production, distribution, and reception. Closely associated with the global reputation of “auteur” filmmakers are the agents associated with key sites, such as transnational film festivals, whereby participatory culture can be found in the creation, circulation, and citation of news about premieres, programmes, catalogues, festival reviews, etc. The changing platforms used to promote film festivals have also resulted in various kinds of paratexts and participation in more recent years. In the context of film distribution and reception, participatory culture reveals different agents such as second-hand film distributors or those who have uploaded films via informal media channels in different geographies/territories. The notion of participatory culture here highlights the important presence of official and vernacular knowledge production in order to support certain works and filmmakers across different media domains. When f ilm authorship engages with participatory culture, the focal authorial agency – usually “the director” – is expanded to include all those who participate in authorial discourses across different cultural domains, whether for artistic expression, commercial opportunity, or civic engagement. A highly significant and shared sentiment across my case studies is that persistent authorial positions associated with contemporary filmmakers are that “their” works and social lives invite participations and ideals of inclusivity. When authorship is employed to perform a creative self that excludes others, then such auteur status increasingly undergoes contemporary processes of being publicly “called out” and re-evaluated. Hence, film authorship in the light of participatory culture exists not only through the filmmaker’s auteur agency and social life but also through the cultural relevance that these can give to the wider processes of self making of varied others in different social contexts.

Introduction

29

The Poetics & Ethos of Self in Paratexts So far, I have introduced the expanded connections of film authorship with transmedia and participatory cultures. Another key avenue of exploration in this book is that the study of transmedia paratexts reveals the varying dimensions of self for the different agents involved. Throughout the book, I draw attention to the shifting roles of f ilmmakers and associated creative practitioners over time, including being a fan, cinephile, promoter, distributor, producer, programmer, or star. This shifting of roles reflects boundaries between the f igure of f ilmmaker/ auteur and audiences and supporters. This also reveals the aspect of generative authorship whereby established filmmakers continue to have their influences but other agents also take part in creating their works through networks of associations. Subsequently, the formation of a sense of self of film authorship in relation to other agents results in the consideration of the ethos of filmmakers in relation to all those other agents involved in the film and transmedia world. Specifically, in the second part of the book I draw attention to how paratexts can shed new light on authorship through the ways that filmmakers and associated agents mediate their sense of self in the media and in relation to others in a range of practices and performances. It is worth noting that accounts on film authorship since the 1990s have begun addressing the public persona and increasing star/celebrity status of film directors, particularly those associated with “quality” blockbuster filmmakers (for a conceptualization of this idea, see Corrigan 1990, 1991). Explorations of the public personas of filmmakers such as Christopher Nolan (Hill-Parks, 2010) and Steven Spielberg (Fairclough & Willis, 2017), or cult/niche personas such as Wes Anderson (Dorey, 2012) and Stanley Kubrick (Egan, 2015), which were shaped by studio marketing, distribution labels, media interests, and audience discourses, resonate to an extent with the exploration of conditions shaping the transnational reputations of East Asian filmmakers explored in the first part of this book. Albeit, the contexts of exploration in this book are expanded to the geopolitical landscapes of film festival, niche distribution of East Asian cinema, and a diverse range of cinephile/fan cultures. Seeking to examine more closely the performative practices of selfprojection of filmmakers, the second half of the book pays closer attention to how individuals response to different kinds of fame and discursive framing. Works that paid attention specifically to these acting agents/performative practices can be found in the self-projection of avant-garde filmmaking (Pramaggiore, 1997) and the performativity of European directors in their own films in the pre-digital period (Sayad, 2013). Suzanne Ferriss’s chapter

30 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

on Sofia Coppola’s “fashion-fame-film industrial complex” also covers this aspect for a female celebrity director through analyzing moments whereby Coppola engaged in a form of self-fashioning (2021, pp. 171–172). In the transmedia era, the performance of auteurs in their own works can be found in formats such as short film, video essay, self-projected interview, self-portrait, and intimate cameo, some of which are packaged as marketing materials while others are exhibited as part of the directors’ filmographies. These shorter forms of filmic (para)texts are arguably freer from constraints of film funding, national politics, and censorship, allowing filmmakers and collaborators to project their senses of self that respond to or deviate from certain public and commercial discourses about them. Through different kinds of self-projection, we can explore East Asian auteurs’ negotiations with past representations of themselves in commercial and critical domains. This kind of practice which can be alternatively referred to as “poetic mediations” can highlight fluctuations in the commercial and public selves of auteurs across different spaces and times. The exploration of performative authorship also further illuminates the symbiosis of self as a fan/cinephile in relation to past filmmakers, or the figure of the auteur in relation to actors/collaborators. The different modus operandi that creative practitioners and filmmakers adopt over time can thus be unpacked, including those contributing to filmmakers’ prosperous careers as well as highlighting conflicting roles between directors’ past and present selves and in relation to other agents. While the two parts of this book draw on case studies associated with specif ic East Asian f ilmmakers, together they give an overview of the interconnected network of relations – including aspects of institutional consecration, national/transnational politics, the financial climate, media industries, cinephilic affection, fan practices, and creative self-expressions – that continue to foster contemporary auteur culture. Within such explorations, this book cannot present a complete history of the global success of East Asian auteurs, and indeed it does not set out to do so. Rather, I will revisit under-explored transmedial/paratextual sites, memories, and agents that push forward transnational, self-reflective film authorship today.

Works Cited Ahn, S. (2008). The Pusan International Film Festival 1996–2005: South Korean cinema in local, regional, and global context. [Doctoral dissertation, University of Nottingham]. University of Nottingham Repository. https://eprints.nottingham. ac.uk/10513/1/AHN_etheses_all.pdf

Introduction

31

Ahn, S. (2012). The Pusan International Film Festival, South Korean cinema and globalization. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Anderson, J. L., & Richie, D. (1982 [1959]). The Japanese film: Art and industry. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Barea, M. E. (2020). Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Primitive as a model of an expanded narrative. In V. Hernández-Santaolalla & M. Barrientos-Bueno (Eds.), Handbook of research on transmedia storytelling, audience engagement, and business strategies (pp. 76–89). Hershey: IGI Global. Baumgärtel, T. (Ed.). (2012). Southeast Asian independent cinema. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Bazin, A. (1985). “On the politique des auteurs” (1957). In J. Hillier (Ed.), Cahiers du Cinéma, The 1950s: Neo-realism, Hollywood, new wave (pp. 248–259). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bordwell, D. (1988). Ozu and the poetics of cinema. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Boyle, K. (2019). #MeToo, Weinstein and feminism. Glasgow: Palgrave Macmillan. Brookey, R. A., & Westerfelhaus, R. (2002). Hiding homoeroticism in plain view: The Fight Club DVD as digital closet. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 19(1), 21–43. Brookey, R. A., & Westerfelhaus, R. (2005). The digital auteur: Branding identity on the Monsters, Inc. DVD. Western Journal of Communication, 69(2), 109–128. Brzeski, P. (2018, February 17). Berlin: South Korean filmmaker Kim Ki-duk responds to on-set abuse controversy. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter. com/movies/movie-news/berlin-south-korean-filmmaker-kim-ki-duk-respondsset-abuse-controversy-1085852/ Busan. (n.d.). Busan International Film Festival (BIFF). https://www.busan.go.kr/ eng/bsfilm03 Choi, J. (2010). The South Korean film renaissance: Local hitmakers, global provocateurs. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press. Chris, C., & Gerstner, D. A. (Eds.). (2013). Media authorship. New York and London: Routledge. Ciecko, A. T. (Ed.). (2006). Contemporary Asian cinema: Popular culture in a global frame. Oxford and New York: Berg. Cook, P. (Ed.). (2007). The cinema book (3rd ed.). London: BFI Publishing. Corliss, R. (2004, May 31). At Cannes, Asia’s star shines. Time. http://www.time. com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,644216,00.html Corrigan, T. (1990). The commerce of auteurism: A voice without authority. New German Critique, 49, 43–57. Corrigan, T. (1991). A cinema without walls: Movies and culture after Vietnam. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.

32 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Davis, D. W., & Yeh, E. Y.-y. (2008). East Asian screen industries. London: BFI Publishing. De Groote, B. (2014). The palimpsest as a double structure of memory. ORBIS Litterarum, 69(2), 108–133. Delwiche, A., & Henderson, J. J. (Eds.). (2013). The participatory cultures handbook. New York: Routledge. Desmond, P. (2015, June 14). Asian invasion – Episode 1: Japan. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9M5X0Uk24ms Desser, D. (2016). Chungking Express, Tarantino and the making of a reputation. In M. Nochimson (Ed.), Companion to Wong Kar-wai (pp. 319–344). Chichester: Wiley Blackwell. Dillon, S. (2005). Reinscribing De Quincey’s palimpsest: The significance of the palimpsest in contemporary literary and cultural studies. Textual Practice, 19(3), 243–263. Dillon, S. (2007). The palimpsest: Literature, criticism, theory. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Dorey, T. (2012). Fantastic Mr Filmmaker: Paratexts and the positioning of Wes Anderson as Roald Dahl’s cinematic heir. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 10(1), 169–185. Dove, S. (2020, February 10). Parasite wins 4 Oscars and makes Oscar history. The Oscars 2020: 92nd Academy Awards. https://oscar.go.com/news/winners/ parasite-wins-4-oscars-and-makes-oscar-history Egan, K. (2015). Precious footage of the auteur at work: Framing, accessing, using, and cultifying Vivian Kubrick’s Making the Shining. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 13(1), 63–82. Fairclough, K., & Willis, A. (2017). Steven Spielberg and the rise of the celebrity film director. In N. Morris (Ed.), A companion to Steven Spielberg (pp. 466–478). Chichester: Wiley Blackwell. Ferriss, S. (2021). The cinema of Sophia Coppola. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Filmkrant. (2020). Signs of life: A letter from Apichatpong Weerasethakul. The cinema of now. https://filmkrant.nl/opinie/signs-life-a-letter-from-apichatpongweerasethakul/ Freeman, M. (2016). Industrial approaches to media. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Freeman, M., & Gambarato, R. R. (2019). The Routledge companion to transmedia studies. New York and London: Routledge. Genette, G. (1997 [1982]). Palimpsests: Literature in the second degree. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press. Genette, G. (1997). Paratexts: Thresholds of interpretation. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press.

Introduction

33

Genette, G., & Maclean, M. (1991). Introduction to the paratext. New Literary History, 22(2), 261–272. Gerstner, D. A., & Staiger, J. (2003). Authorship and film. New York and London: Routledge. Giovagnoli, M. (2019). Transmedia branding and marketing: Concepts and practices. In M. Freeman & R. R. Gambarato (Eds.), The Routledge companion to transmedia studies (pp. 251–258). New York and London: Routledge. Grant, C. (2000). www.auteur.com? Screen, 41(1), 101–108. https://doi.org/10.1093/ screen/41.1.101 Grant, C. (2008). Auteur machines? Auteurism and the DVD. In J. Bennett & T. Brown (Eds.), Film and television after DVD (pp. 101–115). New York: Routledge. Gray, J. (2010). Show sold separately: Promos, spoilers, and other media paratexts. New York: New York University Press. Gray, J., & Johnson, D. (Eds.). (2013). A companion to media authorship. Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Hill-Parks, E. E. (2010). Discourses of cinematic culture and the Hollywood director: The development of Christopher Nolan’s auteur persona. [Doctoral dissertation, New Castle University]. NCL Repository. https://theses.ncl.ac.uk/jspui/ handle/10443/961 HKIFF. (2013). Programme section|Auteurs. http://www.hkiff.org.hk/eng/film/ section.html?filter=13 Hobbs, S. (2018). Cultivating extreme art cinema: Text, paratext and home video culture. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Hunt, L. (2008). Asiaphilia, Asianisation and the gatekeeper auteur: Quentin Tarantino and Luc Besson. In L. Hunt & W.-F. Leung (Eds.), East Asian cinemas: Exploring transnational connections on film (pp. 226–236). London and New York: I. B. Tauris. Hunt, L., & Leung, W. F. (Eds.). (2008). East Asian cinemas: Exploring transnational connections on film. London and New York: I. B. Tauris. Ivanowa13. (2009, December 13). The Hire – The Follow / Wong Kar Wai. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2g3SRYo2g0 Jenkins, H. (2006). Convergence culture: Where old and new media collide. New York and London: New York University Press. Jin, D. Y. (Ed.). (2020). Transmedia storytelling in East Asia: The age of digital media. Oxon and New York: Routledge. Kapsis, R. E. (1992). Hitchcock: The making of a reputation. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Kehr, D. (2001, January 14). In theaters now: The Asian alternative. New York Times. http://www.nytimes.com/2001/01/14/movies/film-in-theaters-now-the-asianalternative.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm

34 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Khiun, L. K., & Lee, S. (2020). Transmedia and Asian cinema. Asian Cinema, 31(2), 147–149. Kim, Y. (2020, February 11). Parasite was the most tweeted-about movie during the 92nd Academy Award. [Twitter blog]. Twitter. https://blog.twitter.com/en_sea/ topics/events/2020/Parasite-was-the-most-Tweeted-about-movie-during-the92nd-Academy-Award.html#:~:text=%E2%80%9CParasite%E2%80%9D% 2C%20the%20first%20Korean,announced%20on%2013%20January%202020 Klinger, B. (1994). Melodrama and meaning: History, culture, and the films of Douglas Sirk. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Klinger, B. (2008). The DVD cinephile: Viewing heritages and home film cultures. In J. Bennett & T. Brown (Eds.), Film and television after DVD (pp. 19–44). London: Routledge. Lee, H.-w. (2014, May 20). Cannes: Dangerous price for realism in South Korean cinema. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/ movie-news/cannes-dangerous-price-realism-south-706125/ Lee, S. (2011). The transnational Asian studio system: Cinema, nation-state, and globalization in Cold War Asia. (Publication No. 3464660) [Doctoral dissertation, New York University]. ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. Lee, S. (2020). Cinema and the cultural Cold War: US diplomacy and the origins of the Asian cinema network. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Lee, V. P. Y. (Ed.). (2011). East Asian cinemas: Regional flows and global transformations. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Leung, W. F., & Willis, A. (Eds.). (2014). East Asian film stars. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Lewis, J. (2007). The perfect money machine(s): George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and auteurism in the new Hollywood. In J. Lewis & E. Smoodin (Eds.), Looking past the screen: Studies in American film history and method (pp. 12–26). Durham: Duke University Press. Maule, R. (2008). Beyond auteurism: New directions in authorial film practices in France, Italy and Spain Since the 1980s. Bristol: Intellect. Nagib, L., & Jerslev, A. (2014). Impure cinema: Intermedial and intercultural approaches to film. London and New York: I. B. Tauris. Portillo, D. (2016, May 5). The Hire – The Follow (corto BMW subtitulado). [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2k1PZNl4XC0&ab_ channel=DiegoPortillo Pramaggiore, M. (1997). Performance and persona in the US avant-garde: The case of Maya Deren. Cinema Journal, 36(2), 17–40. Promkhuntong, W. (2014). Wong Kar-wai: “Cultural hybrid,” celebrity endorsement and star-auteur branding. Journal of Celebrity Studies, 5(3), 348–353.

Introduction

35

Pulver, A. (2004, May 12). The Tarantino effect. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2004/may/12/cannes2004.cannesfilmfestival1 Richie, D. (1971). Japanese cinema: Film style and national character. New York: Doubleday & Company. Richie, D. (1977). Ozu: His life and films. Berkeley and London: University of California Press. Richie, D. (1984 [1965]). The films of Akira Kurosawa. Berkeley and London: University of California Press. Rose, S. (2018, March 7). Three women accuse Korean director Kim Ki-duk of rape and assault. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/mar/07/ three-woman-accuse-korean-director-kim-ki-duk-rape-assault Sarris, A. (1962). Notes on the auteur theory in 1962. Film Culture, 27, 1–8. Sayad, C. (2013). Performing authorship: Self-inscription and corporeality in the cinema. London: I. B. Tauris. Sharf, Z. (2019, May 5). Every Wong Kar-wai movie is getting a 4K restoration, timed to “In the Mood for Love” 20th anniversary. IndieWire. https://www. indiewire.com/2019/05/wong-kar-wai-films-restored-2020-in-the-mood-forlove-1202131373/ Sheldon, Z. (2020). Paratexts and the making of the “digital auteur.” Cinephile, 14(1), 26–31. Shin, C.-Y., & Stringer, J. (Eds.). (2005). New Korean cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Staiger, J. (2003). Authorship approaches. In D. A. Gerstner & J. Staiger (Eds.), Authorship and film (pp. 27–57). New York and London: Routledge. Taylor-Jones, K. E. (Ed.). (2011). Dekalog 4: On East Asian filmmakers. New York: Columbia University Press. Unifrance. (2004, May 24). Cannes 2004: Awards. https://en.unifrance.org/news/634/ cannes-2004-awards Verhoeven, D. (2009). Jane Campion. London and New York: Routledge. Vitali, V. (2008). Hou Hsiao-hsien reviewed. Inter-Asia Cultural Studies, 9(2), 280–289. Wexman, V. W. (Ed.). (2003). Film and authorship. New Brunswick and London: Rutgers University Press. White, P. (2015). Women’s cinema, world cinema: Projecting contemporary feminisms. Durham: Duke University Press.

Part I East Asian Film Authorship, Transmedia Spaces, and Paratextual Economies

1.

Film Festivals, Paratextual Networks, and the Mediated Auteur Life Cycle Abstract: Approaching the film festival as a mediated archive site and one of the key sources of global cinematic discourses on film authorship, this chapter explores paratexts generated by film festivals along with associated media outlets, professionals, and cinephilic networks. Each has engaged in the knowledge production of auteur culture in the last two decades. From film profiles, festival reviews, programme weblogs, and commissioned anniversary videos to visitor tweets, festival-related paratexts open up conversations on the becoming of auteurs while also revealing multiple authorial agents crisscrossing in paratextual productions and citations. Drawing on connections between the International Film Festival Rotterdam and Apichatpong Weerasethakul as a starting point, the chapter reflects on authorship in relation to cultural consecration and digital memorialization. Keywords: film festival, digital archive, participatory culture, Apichatpong Weerasethakul

Film festivals and associated models of cultural events and competitions have long been key sites fostering the global careers of, and international support for, East Asian filmmakers. In the foreword to the edited collection Film Festivals: History, Theory, Method and Practice, Dina Iordanova provides an anecdote that resonates with the stories of many generations of East Asian directors who have been able to continue making films through recognition and support outside their countries of origin. Back in 1937, Rattana Pestonji – known in Thailand today as the father of Thai cinema – had just graduated with an engineering degree in London. Prior to returning to Bangkok, he submitted a short film to the Amateur Cinema Competition in Glasgow (Iordanova, 2016, p. xi). This short film subsequently won the Hitchcock Award, with Alfred Hitchcock himself presenting the prize (Ainslie, 2018, p. 9). After this initial success, Pestonji started a film career and later set

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch01

40 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

up the first Thai film studio, producing features such as Santi-Vina, which went on to win awards from the Asia Pacific Film Festival in Tokyo in 1954 (Ainslie, 2018, p. 35). The film, which was the first Thai feature shot in colour 35 mm, was thought lost before copies were found at the British Film Institute and film archives in Russia and China. Through a restoration project run by the Thai Film Archive in collaboration with a lab in Italy, the film was restored and selected to screen as part of the Cannes Classics programme in 2016 (see Rithdee, 2016). Pestonji’s story in some ways resonates with the account of the Chinese filmmaker Chen Kaige, recalled as part of the history of the International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) and its Hubert Bals Fund (Halasa et al., 2003). In 1988, Kaige was writing a script for his new film while having to teach American housewives how to use chopsticks to sustain himself (Halasa et al., 2003, p. 8). These circumstances led to a determination to seek funding for independent filmmakers on the part of the IFFR’s director, Hubert Bals, and the subsequent establishment of the festival’s funding scheme, named posthumously after Bals (IFFR, 2019). In the last two decades, film festivals – particularly those with longestablished connections with East Asian cinema such as “Rotterdam and Venice” – continue to play a role in fostering the “global status” of “some of the best-known Asian filmmakers” (Iordanova & Cheung, 2010, p. 3). This kind of film festival support/recognition could be referred to broadly as “cultural consecration,” a kind of “social magic” rooted in “rites of institutions” which imposes distinctions in relation to individuals and their achievements (Bourdieu, 1991, pp. 117–119). Cultural consecration by institutional gatekeepers is particularly vital to products that carry high risks in terms of economic return and those that do not respond to general market demands, such as those created in the fields of art and literature (Kapsis, 1992, pp. 6–8). These products rely on symbolic capital (prestige and recognition that position them as original, heralded as markers of individual creative genius), which can be discreetly turned into economic support to sustain their existence in the public domain (Bourdieu, 1993, pp. 119–120). In the case of film festivals, the process of cultural consecration can be found through various practices that distinguish certain directors as “auteurs” based on agreed norms set by agents involved in the film festival context (De Valck, 2014; Wong, 2011). Agreed norms on the types of film that deserve awards vary from festival to festival and change over time based on wider sociopolitical, cultural, and economic circumstances. Increasingly, the consecration of film directors as auteurs relies on the process of paratextual production and the circulation of such materials to those within and outside the film festival circuit.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

41

Given the growing field of film festival studies, it is important to note that the idea of the film festival as a discovery and support site for new filmmakers is only a partial aspect of film festival culture. Julian Stringer (2002, p. 136) has pointed to the role of film festivals as a kind of cultural currency in the development of modern European cities, for instance. Historical accounts, emerging as part of the growth of film festival studies, further reveal complicated relations between different stakeholders linked to the economization of culture through industry collaboration, the spirit of volunteerism and cinephilic affection, and the remnants of geopolitics associated with the film festival establishment since its early era in the pre-WWII period. I will briefly revisit some of these layers of meaning, particularly those that have continued to shape auteur culture in relation to East Asian transnational cinema today. Focusing on the period in which film festivals have become media events and have moved towards public participation and diverse forms of screen culture in the last two decades, I particularly want to focus on film festival auteur paratexts which initially functioned as promotional materials before later becoming part of the archive of film festival history. Having multiple functions, these materials collectively reveal the changing authorial positions of filmmakers as they have progressed through their careers, as well as highlighting film festivals’ knowledge production, as participated in by different collaborators/ participants at different points in time.

East Asian Cinema and Film Authorship at European Film Festivals Reading around the margins of accounts of f ilm festivals reveals early recurring discourses on East Asian cinema in relation to political alliances and cultural currency. Around the WWII period, Italy, Germany, and France took part in the international film festival initiative amidst changing political circumstances in Europe. From 1932 to 1972, the Venice International Film Festival, the oldest film festival in the world, initiated a policy to acquire films for competition based on national nominations. While it was noted that the early years of the Venice Film Festival in 1932 and 1934 were driven by ideas of cultural collectives and political pacifist movements, by the late 1930s various countries refused to join the festival due to the increasing influence of fascist ideology. This led to the creation of the International Film Festival in Cannes, France, in 1946, with a vision to promote humanist films and cinematic art forms (Ostrowska, 2016, pp. 18–19).

42 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

In English-language writings on East Asian cinema, Japan has been placed as one of the key sites of interest, particularly through the auteur canon started by critics in the post-WWII period. Historical accounts reveal that the two European film festivals (Venice and Berlin) which also had links with the former Axis alliance were long-term supporters of Japanese cinema (Baskett, 2008, pp. 115–116). Kurosawa’s Rashomon (1950) won the Golden Lion at the Venice International Film Festival in 1951, and Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu (1953) won the Silver Lion at the same festival in 1953. Ozu, whose works enjoyed a revival at film festivals in the early 2000s, was nominated for the Golden Bear award at the Berlin International Film Festival (Berlinale) in 1962 for The End of Summer (1961). While, on the one hand, film festival screenings brought international attention to filmmakers and associated national cinemas from Asia, on the other hand, festival development in the 1950s–1970s has also been seen as part of the creation of “a cultural currency” for art institutions within Europe (Stringer, 2011, p. 63) and as part of the collectivization of art cinema in competition with Hollywood (Neale, 1981, p. 35). One of the strategies adopted to promote European cinema and its institutions internationally as distinctive from “Hollywood cinema” has been the consistent endorsement of film directors as creative forces behind their “art” films. By the 1960s, the role of critics in establishing “their own independently curated sidebar” (Ostrowska, 2016, p. 21) at festivals such as Cannes shifted the focus towards aesthetics and new styles beyond European cinema. The success of the sidebar along with the Film Market section of Cannes, and the anti-establishment political climate in the late 1960s, led to a push towards discovering new auteurs and “Third World productions” through film programmes such as the Directors’ Fortnight (Ostrowska, 2016, p. 25). Cannes subsequently shifted its policy in 1972, which also influenced other festivals, moving away from acquiring films based on national nominations to selecting films that represented the highest “quality” and “universality” of cinema through the vision of individual auteurs (Elsaesser, in Andrews, 2013, p. 182; De Valck, 2007, p. 165). In order to continue in the role of discoverers of new art cinema for the publics of their respective host nations, festivals have had to expand their attention to different geographical landscapes, ranging from Japan to mainland China (particularly the Beijing Film Academy’s Fifth-Generation directors), Chinese-speaking territories (including the Taiwan New Wave, the Hong Kong New Wave and Second Wave directors), and the emerging South Korean cinema of the 1980s and 1990s. In relation to film reception and audiences, it has been noted that the East Asian cinema made visible through film festivals has often been seen

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

43

in association with “highbrow” film magazines. For example, Cahiers du Cinéma published articles on Mizoguchi by grouping him amongst European directors, including Ingmar Bergman and Luis Buñuel (Hillier, 1985, p. 3; Spicer, 2011, p. 4). As access to these films was limited, conversations were often framed by the circumstances of film appreciation and the development of art institutions in separate countries. In the UK, the Japanese cinema trend emerged between 1950 and 1970. The British film magazine Sight & Sound was highly supportive of the same set of Japanese directors selected for European film festivals. This interest helped foster the push to develop additional art institutions, such as London’s National Film Theatre (now the BFI Southbank) and the London Film Festival (now the BFI London Film Festival) in the early 1950s (Stringer, 2011, p. 73). In the 1980s, Anglo-European film magazines collectively published reviews on the Taiwanese director, Hou Hsiao-Hsien, which functioned as a way to foster art film appreciation amongst European readers (Vitali, 2008). It is only from around the 1990s and early 2000s onwards that changing economic and social landscapes opened up the idea of the film festival in relation to public engagements and broader forms of participatory culture. It was also at this time that film festivals proliferated worldwide.1 Shifting economic and cultural power within major cities in Asia in the 1980s–2000s further led to the development of regional cinema networks as part of global cultural and economic policies. Contextualizing film festivals as part of contemporary film culture, Janet Harbord illuminates the layers of discourses that have shaped film festival operations. While a focus on “independent film makers and producers” (Harbord, 2002, p. 60) continues to be a key discourse, there have been media involvements that generate newness and excitement surrounding festivals each year. Since the early 2000s, there have also been recurring discourses on business and an expanded engagement with “tourism and the service industry” (2002, p. 60). Writing on the “post-national” context of European film festivals, Thomas Elsaesser (2005, p. 70) notes how the conception of national cinema has increasingly been mediated through legislative and economic measures that foster public and private transnational coproductions in the cultural industries. With new funding sources, festivals have extended their roles from showcasing award-winning films represented by director figures to various initiatives, including pre- and post-production funding and commissioned projects. This change, which Marijke de Valck 1 It was noted in 2008 that there were over 700 film festivals around the world, although there were/are only six to ten festivals that “do matter” to the film business. These include, according to Nick Roddick (2009): Sundance, Rotterdam, Berlin, Cannes, Venice, Telluride, Toronto, and Busan.

44 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

referred to as “the economization of culture” (2014, p. 74), created a kind of dilemma and an uneasy feeling in the film/art world. Long-established film festivals have gone through processes of change and adjustment to address these new circumstances and partnerships. Screen Daily quoted Cannes’s artistic director, Thierry Frémaux, noting that the festival has a place for different stakeholders and that the “[s]tars protect the auteurs but without the auteurs there wouldn’t be a festival” (Frémaux, in Wong, 2011, p. 101). The complex organization of film festivals in the contemporary period has been explored from a wide range of perspectives from the 2000s onwards, including in monographs (De Valck, 2007; Wong, 2011) and a series of edited collections, including case studies on the expanded landscape of film festivals in various countries (Iordanova & Cheung, 2010; De Valck et al., 2016). While film festivals can be explored through many dimensions, this chapter contextualizes the film festival as one of the long-standing sites that work to establish and sustain auteur culture and East Asian cinema especially, particularly via the production of knowledge through paratexts and increasing transmedia practices. A number of scholars have begun to address the function of film festivals in terms of generating texts, artefacts, and ephemera which have subsequently become part of media archives that play a key role in shaping the knowledge economy of auteur culture. Stringer referred to the creation of the “FILM-FEST project” which produced “a series of commercial DVDs based around individual festivals like Sundance and Cannes, comprising clips from featured movies, cinema verité tours of key locations, [and] interviews with visitors and organizers” as part of the “new (electronic) space economy” and “the proliferation of the virtual festival experience” (Stringer, 2002, p. 142). While some materials are highly ephemeral, others have been cited, revised, and collected as part of the “repositories and virtual archives” that foster discourses on East Asian cinema and film authorship over time (Elsaesser, in Mazdon, 2013, p. 119). Importantly, with changing media formats and platforms across the last two decades, the creation of, and access to, paratexts through various media platforms has allowed for multiple authorial agents to participate in cultural conversations on film authorship.

Approaching the Film Festival: Archival Materials as Auteur Paratextual Networks Writing on the relation between film festivals and film historiography, Francesco Di Chiara and Valentina Re (2011) drew attention to the impact

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

45

that film festivals have had in shaping “the perception of the contemporary cinema landscape” through programming choices and the introduction of new films, genres, and styles (2011, p. 134). Through retrospectives, film festivals can also shed new light on established canons and encourage new approaches and perspectives on cinema, such as pushing forward a regional or transnational emphasis (2011, p. 135). Reflectively, Lucy Mazdon (2013) has drawn attention to the double role of film festivals in producing historical knowledge and shaping film culture through the archival materials they produce. As a media event, festivals can generate numerous paratexts in different formats that reveal trends and display novelty within film culture. Typically, these materials later become part of an archive, allowing study of the cultural history of cinema and wider sociopolitical contexts. Importantly, these materials reveal the film festival’s active role as “a preserver of particular narratives of the cinematic past and a vital means of accessing that past” (Mazdon, 2013, p. 124). As an influential source of knowledge production on contemporary auteur culture, festival paratexts reveal the discursive construction of film authorship through practices of canon making in different parts of film festival activities. As explored by Cindy Hing-Yuk Wong, paratexts – or as Wong referred to them, “extratextual elements” (2011, p. 100) – are part of the “interpretive communities” (2011, p. 102) which reveal discourses that shaped the operation of film festivals and the formation of each generation of film auteurs. While the discourse of value associated with art cinema and individual expression was key to the reception of Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Avventura (1960) in the 1960s at European film festivals, the 1990s saw the beginning of an interest in the discourse of geopolitics through the new “Orient” cinema which supported an auteurist reception of Abbas Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry (1997) (see Wong, 2011, ch. 3). These aesthetic/ discursive formations work alongside wider sociopolitical contexts to shape the operation of film festivals writ large. Drawing on and expanding discourses that shaped auteur culture in the past, and looking at paratexts generated by those working closely with the festival and its expanded networks of associations, the case study in this chapter explores discourses surrounding the Thai filmmaker, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, whose f ilms were funded, screened, and made known through close associations with European film festivals. Throughout the course of the director’s career, different forms of paratexts have been produced and circulated through diverse platforms for different occasions. In the wider media domain, Weerasethakul gained unprecedented attention after winning the prestigious Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film

46 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Festival in 2010 with Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010) (Uncle Boonmee hereafter). A quick survey of the director’s media exposure through journalistic and academic writings gives a view of him as being well-connected in the festival network and the art world in Europe and North America but digitally/virtually unknown prior to the highly mediated award-winning event at Cannes. Time Out London published an article with the headline “Who Is Apichatpong Weerasethakul?” alongside the caption “He’s got a film in Cannes, a residency at a London gallery and new short film viewable online, but just who is Apichatpong Weerasethakul?” (Jenkins, 2010). The piece is representative of a series of publications about the director in the same year, all suggesting that he seems to have emerged out of nowhere into the public domain. Andrew O’Hehir commented on the director’s hard-to-sell Palme d’Or title that “99.9 percent of moviegoers have never heard of him” (2010, para. 6). Looking at the media paratexts mentioning the director through the Lexis Nexis database, it is no surprise that it is only from 2010 onwards that Weerasethakul became publicly known as an auteur. The news about Uncle Boonmee and Cannes generated over 600 pieces of press coverage, the amount that all his previous films – Mysterious Object at Noon (2000), Blissfully Yours (2002), Tropical Malady (2004), and Syndromes and a Century (2006) – had received combined. This attention resonates with the status of Cannes itself which has been analyzed as a highly mediated film “event” almost comparable to the World Cup or the Olympics (Corless & Darke cited by Mazdon, 2013, p. 117). Early accounts of Weerasethakul’s works had been discussed in the field of contemporary art, through publications such as Artforum, Esopus, and Frieze. Significantly, the most extensive account on the director in the English language at the time of writing was published by the Austrian Film Museum (Quandt, 2009).2 The editor of this collection, James Quandt, is a contributor to Artforum magazine and the Criterion Collection and a long-time programmer at the Cinematheque Ontario. Contributors to the book included film critics Mark Cousins, Tony Rayns, and Kong Rithdee; actor and collaborator Tilda Swinton; and the renowned academic Benedict Anderson. All of the contributors have either been closely associated with the film festival network or have followed sociopolitical developments in Thailand and Asia. Beyond the sense of mystery created around the director in 2010, next I will trace earlier print 2 The Austrian Film Museum also published various collections on cineastes, actors, aspects of cinema and directors associated with the auteur label. From Asia, these include books on Satyajit Ray, Yasujiro Ozu, and Hou Hsiao-hsien.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

47

and online paratexts and related materials surrounding him from the time when his first feature film gained international exposure, as well as then coming more up-to-date by studying his most recent transmedia and site-specific projects with physical and virtual participants through platforms such as Twitter and Instagram.

Haunted Geopolitics, Modernist Cinema, and the Early Framing of a Filmmaker as Auteur Administered by the International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR), the Hubert Bals Fund (HBF) was the first (and has been one of the most consistent) sources of financial support for Apichatpong Weerasethakul and other Southeast Asian auteurs. Weerasethakul began his filmmaking career at the height of the East Asian cinema boom. His first feature, Mysterious Object at Noon (2000), received the HBF post-production fund and a retrospective screening at the HBF’s 25th anniversary event in 2014. Featuring along with other filmmakers selected to highlight the impact of the fund on the film festival’s website, the director noted that I am deeply touched and grateful for the HBF over the past 20 years since I started my first movie. It has inspired filmmakers to treasure our voices and stories. Moreover, the fund has set the standard for others, including Thailand, to establish a f ilm support system. This standard, with its adventurous spirit, is still gold. (IFFR, n.d.)

His most recent feature films at the time of writing, Uncle Boonmee and Cemetery of Splendour (initially titled Cemetery of Kings), received script and project development funds in 1998 and 2013, respectively. Through another initiative, the Cinemart co-production platform, Weerasethakul’s third film, Tropical Malady, was also able to find international co-producers. Other works, including a series of shorts/videos, an installation, and an intermedial project, were commissioned/screened in different thematic programmes. The festival has also supported many other directors from Thailand and Southeast Asia from the early 2000s onwards, setting out a long-term development between associated parties. Reaching out to wider audiences beyond those attending the festival, the IFFR website has been cited in academic works on various aspects of the festival (De Valck, 2007, 2014; Falicov, 2010; Ross, 2011; Ruiz, 2011). By 2014, the advertising rate sheet highlighted that its website had received

48 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

5.8 million views in the previous year. Approximately the same number continued to be cited in 2020, with additional channels featuring YouTube (5.1 million views) and Twitter (over 26,000 followers) (IFFR, 2020a). While searching content and browsing a website is a common activity today, the emergence of festival websites has opened up the field of film festivals to new engagements with potential filmmakers and audiences. Weerasethakul mentioned in a Thai publication on the process of “going international” that he was “studying in Chicago, making Mysterious Object at Noon, did not have money except for that from his family, and was intending to make a short film but it unintentionally got longer and longer. He started using the internet and found the HBF” (Subyen & Watcharathanin, 2010, p. 197, my translation). The year-round accessibility of public domain paratexts about f ilm festivals can be contrasted with print and material productions as part of each annual temporal event, revealing the way different parties can get involved with the knowledge production of auteur culture through festival activities. While this kind of online content is almost always incomplete, as some of it is ephemeral, many paratexts have become part of film festival history and have been memorialized in the wider media domain. One of the important forms of paratext published on the website which coincides with the print catalogue is the individual film profile introducing each selected work. The life cycle of a film profile – as it gets cited in reviews and film analysis and other promotional materials and is updated by the festival itself over time – reveals the changing status of films and filmmakers within festival and auteur culture. As a film funded by the HBF, Mysterious Object at Noon had its world premiere as part of the Harvest programme in 2000. The early version of the IFFR film profile functioned as an “entryway paratext” (Gray, 2010, p. 18). It has since been revised and updated on the festival website, and it continues to be cited by other festival screening catalogues (Artfilm, 2008), in DVD synopses (Amazon.co.uk, n.d.-a), and on streaming sites (Mubi, n.d.). Introducing the film through its format and its eclectic characters, the early version of the film profile offers a glimpse of the initial introduction of the filmmaker through a specifically geographical framing. The opening statement introduced readers with: In this semi-documentary, Weerasethakul provides an original portrayal of his follow citizens. Battling food vendors, a boxer addicted to TV, a pious policewoman and a loveless rubber-tree tapper each contribute to a serial narrative.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

49

As the film itself does not have a straightforward storyline, the profile described the process of filmmaking led by the director: “Apichatpong Weerasethakul makes a very special journey through Thailand with his crew: he lets the various people he encounters tell an episodic story together.” The list of characters that the crew encountered was mentioned again with adjusted wording to avoid repetition. These are “quarrelling food sellers, a TV-addict-cum-boxer, a devout female cop and a loveless rubber-tree peeler.” With its remark that “the social positions and jobs of these people vary greatly,” the profile gave a sense of human interest linked to the sociocultural conditions within the fictional/real-world context of Thailand. The description of the film further highlighted the “complex” story chain as it progressed from “a simple plot about a handicapped boy who has lessons from a private tutor somewhere in a common or garden house in a suburb of Bangkok” to a series of “mysterious figures [who] turn up in the story,” namely “a boy born from a flying ball and a deaf neighbour who is introduced as a silent witness.” Described as “a Thai pearl,” the profile ends with the summary that “the greatest surprise” is to see the lives of the people featured “comprise more drama than all the fiction they can dream up.” Alluding back to the discourse of the festival as a site of interest in the “new, different, and exotic to […] Western European sensibilities” (Wong, 2011, p. 103), academic reflections on funding support have remarked on European film festivals’ funding policies as indirectly enacting neocolonial cultural power. Indeed, this is revealed through funding guidelines (Falicov, 2010). Selected films have to be shot within the director’s country of origin, and many of these tend to focus on and represent societal poverty. A supporting element to this observation is that sources of funding from ministries of foreign affairs, the EU, and various European developmental organizations3 have imposed criteria that qualified projects must come from lower-income countries in accord with the OECD’s DAC List (Halle, 2010; Ross, 2011; Shaw, 2016). 4 The staging of Weerasethakul’s debut film in the promotional materials includes several strange objects and characters, along with black-andwhite stills of the scene of elephant-riding near a mountain, houses on 3 In the case of the HBF, sources of funding change over time. The set of sponsors at the time of writing include the European Union through the MEDIA sub-programme of Creative Europe, the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Humanist Institute for Cooperation (Hivos), the Dioraphte Foundation, and Netherland’s Lions Clubs International. 4 The DAC List of ODA Recipients shows all countries and territories eligible to receive official development assistance (ODA). It is maintained by the Development Assistance Committee (DAC) of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD).

50 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

stilts by the sea, and kids in the back of a pickup truck, when observed through the background discourse surrounding the HBF at the time, connote some elements of neocolonial framing and a staging of the Third World for Western audiences. Nevertheless, while the source of funding may be understood in relation to geopolitical agendas and economic circumstances, it has also been argued that this kind of support enables minority f ilmmakers to express views that may be less favourable to, or even suppressed by, the directors’ own governments, thereby showcasing films that would not be able to find audiences in their countries of origin (Elsaesser, 1993). Subsequently, paradigms of film analysis, through notions of slow cinema, eco-cinema, and poor cinema, have been proposed to closely explore this kind of transnational f ilmmaking (De la Garza et al., 2020). As regards paratextual reading, the examination of recurring motifs and intertextual connections across festival paratexts in critical reviews and cinephilic writing communities reveals the way that different supporters have pushed forward alternative frames of reference for the filmmaker’s first feature. Particularly through critical reviews of the film by influential critics with personal contacts with the filmmaker, the neocolonial discourse was problematized via insights on national cinema and its sociopolitics. The director’s dissident identity and the film’s association with modernist and experimental cinema history have also been particularly highlighted. For instance, after seeing the film at the IFFR, Chuck Stephens’s film review, with the tongue-in-cheek title “Siamese Spin,” located Weerasethakul within Thai film culture “which remains, by and large, a politically straitjacketed and thoroughly commercialized monolith” (2000, para. 6). The review provided some idea of the emerging film scene in Thailand, where Weerasethakul had co-organized the Bangkok Experimental Film Festival, the first of its kind in the country (2000, para. 6). A key part of Stephens’s writing paid attention to the aesthetic experimentation of the film that was rooted in the surrealist storytelling game of “Exquisite Corpse,” which the director had encountered during his study of experimental film at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (2000, para. 3). Through an email correspondence with the filmmaker, Stephens also provided information on sources of inspiration and influences from “various popular and traditional Thai storytelling forms – songs, soap operas, theatrical clichés” and the “modernist designs” with links made by the filmmaker to “Duchamp and Andy Warhol” when asked about other influences (2000, para. 5). The review ended with a reflection that “Thailand may still be nominally considered part of the third world, but if it continues to produce

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

51

filmmakers and activists as devoted as this, it may soon be taking a seat in the film world’s front row” (2000, para. 7). Contributing to the entryway paratexts for Mysterious Object at Noon, this review locates the authorial position of the film largely in relation to its director. The film was framed through a national cinema and sociopolitical context, which is a consistent way used to introduce new filmmakers from East Asia. Apart from the local circumstances, the emphasis on the modernist aesthetic in the review combined with the politically progressive positioning of the filmmaker has also been remarked on as a key discourse for film evaluation from critics who seek out the canon of modernist cinema as a mode of cultural currency, as opposed to commercial tendencies that rely on market conditions (Ingawanij & MacDonald, 2006, pp. 126–127). Highlighting the limits of discursive constructions of cinematic knowledge as shaped by publicists, journalists, and teachers in the US context, a review by Jonathan Rosenbaum first and foremost located Mysterious Object at Noon as part of Thai New Wave cinema. Along with the work of another Thai filmmaker, Pen-ek Ratanaruang, whose films had been introduced internationally not long before Weerasethakul, the filmmakers were described as “confound[ing] the stereotypes so thoroughly they make it clear that we Americans don’t know what Thai cinema is” (Rosenbaum, 2002, para. 3). This review, written two years after the initial viewing of Mysterious Object at Noon at the IFFR, reflected that there had been a limited “analytical context in which to place it” (2002, para. 6). Titling his piece “Collective Consciousness,” Rosenbaum further unpacked the film through the lens of experimental cinema and its aim to reveal “the collective unconscious of a group of unconnected storytellers” (2002, para. 11). These storytellers are listed, again drawing on the IFFR’s film profile, as comprising of “quarrelling food sellers, a TV-addict-cum-boxer, a devout female cop and a loveless rubber-tree peeler” (2002, para. 11). The focus, however, is also on “reveal[ing] something real about Thai villagers through their fantasies and […] reveal[ing] something about their fantasies through their reality” (2002, para. 12). The emphasis is on the process of cinematic experimentation and its relation to audiences. These two reviews, in conjunction with the initial film profile by the festival, offer an early mediated presence for the filmmaker prior to his subsequent association with film festival culture through awards, global film history, and his own universe of storytelling. As paratexts can change their function, importance, and hierarchy across time in the contemporary media landscape (Re, 2018), the Mysterious Object at Noon film profile circulated by the IFFR has since been revised to capture the elevated status of the filmmaker as part of the film festival’s branding

52 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

and anniversary celebrations. Fourteen years after the initial screening, the IFFR celebrated the 25th anniversary of the Hubert Bals Fund with a retrospective programme titled “Mysterious Objects – 25 Years of the Hubert Bals Fund.” In a featured story by the HBF programmer, Bianca Taal, Mysterious Object at Noon was redefined as “part-documentary, partfiction: human, creative, engaged, wondrous, fantastical and intelligent” and carefully positioned as “[a] unique and completely original film that cannot easily be defined through words and labels” and “[a]n ode to the art of filmmaking” (Taal, 2014, para. 4).5 The profile of the filmmaker was also further re-inscribed through new descriptions of him as the “Golden Palm winner Weerasethakul” and as a “Thai master.” Since the retrospective programme at the IFFR, Mysterious Object at Noon has received many other entryway paratexts. Being restored under the Austrian Film Museum and the Film Foundation’s World Cinema project founded by Martin Scorsese, the film has been distributed on DVD by the company Second Run, screened as part of the filmmaker’s retrospectives, and reviewed and discussed by many film critics and academics. Along with a note on the restoration project, the DVD booklet provides another review by the leading commentator of East Asian cinema, Tony Rayns, who recounted meeting Weerasethakul in Bangkok in 1999 when the director had not yet completed the final cut of the film. An excerpt from the booklet was published on the Second Run website (Rayns, n.d.), creating auteurist paratextual information by linking the filmmaker’s first feature to his later works. Rayns reflected that Mysterious Object at Noon launches the idea of “secret” continuities from film to film: Dogfahr takes her disputatious father to a doctor for help with his diminishing hearing, and the scenes in a clinic at the start of Blissfully Yours feature an angry old man who accuses his daughter of breaking his hearing aid. It launches the kind of two-part structure which will be explored in the following three features. […] It also launches Apichatpong’s exploration of the Thai landscape, both urban and rural, which will become an important element in everything he goes on to do. (Rayns, n.d., para. 5)

Rayns’s discovery of Weerasethakul’s first film upon his visit to Bangkok and his critical evaluation of the director’s early body of work was also compiled as part of the first full-length book on Weerasethakul published 5 The print catalogue has also been digitized, available at: https://issuu.com/iffr/docs/ iffrcat2014web.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

53

by the Austrian Film Museum (Quandt, 2009) a year before the director won the Palm d’Or at Cannes. Tracing the temporality of paratexts associated with Weerasethakul’s debut film through citations, revisions, and circuits of circulation reveals changing discourses and the key agents that shaped the director’s growing reputation. The director, via his company’s website, Kick the Machine (https://www.kickthemachine.com/), has also recognized the importance of paratextual entry points and extended storytelling as the film profile on the website is accompanied with selected excerpts from the aforementioned critics writing on different occasions, along with lists of festival prizes and collaborators.

Blogging on an “Archipelago” and Regional Cinephilic Collectives In conjunction with growing interest in the idea of regional Southeast Asian cinema in the early 2000s, the IFFR commissioned and curated several regionally themed programmes in 2006–2008, which also included short films and video installations by Apichatpong Weerasethakul and his collaborators. Ghost of Asia (2006), an installation/short film that Weerasethakul codirected with a French artist friend, Christelle Lheureux, to commemorate the tsunami disaster, was screened in the “Asian Hot Houses” sub-theme, which featured short films from five other emerging Thai directors and numerous directors from Indonesia, Philippines, Malaysia, Singapore, and Taiwan. Two other short films associated with Weerasethakul were screened in the “Exploding Cinema: New Dragon Inns” programme, which was named after the film Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) by the established Malaysian-born Taiwanese director Tsai Ming-liang. These were Black Air (2008), a multimedia installation initiated and advised by Weerasethakul and “carried out” by a number of Thai artists to highlight the military violence imposed on Thai Muslim protesters, and Nimit (Meteorites) (2007), an omnibus short film by the Thai Office of Contemporary Art and Culture commissioned to mark the 80th birthday of the late King of Thailand, which depicts the day-to-day lives of Weerasethakul and his family in Thailand under the king’s “benevolent” reign (more on this short film in Chapter 4). Curated by Gertjan Zuilhof, the regional thematic short film programme “S.E.A. Eyes” (2005) could be seen as an extension of the geopolitical interest in lesser-known national cinemas and film authorship at the IFFR in the early 2000s. Apart from the role of film critics, this regional framing has been significantly shaped by film programmers and a collective of regional cinephiles, contributing to expanded discourses surrounding film authorship.

54 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Collective writing on regional cinema at the time was facilitated by blogs/weblogs, which also encouraged the inclusion of affective or fannish dimensions between the writers and particular groups of, or individual, filmmakers. Leading up to the thematic programming of “S.E.A. Eyes” in 2005, the IFFR website incorporated a series of weblogs to provide insights into the process of film scouting as the programmer visited Southeast Asia, as well as introducing new filmmakers and discussing contexts influencing the development of new regional authorship. The first entry in June 2004 began with a still from Tropical Malady, followed by a diary-style entry written by Gertjan Zuilhof, whose name is visible at the top of the page. Zuilhof addressed readers: “By the time you read this, I hope you have seen the latest film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul (Thailand) in Cannes” (Zuilhof, 2004a, para. 1). While addressing industry readers, the conversation continued by teasing the sense of novelty and unfamiliarity that many may then have had with Weerasethakul’s long name, which was a recurring remark at the time.6 The introduction reads: Yes, it’s a name you have to practice. Since studying in America (e.g. in Chicago), he therefore chose the name Joe. Weerasethakul (we all have our fads, but I don’t happen to go around calling a Thai director by an American first name) is undoubtedly one of today’s most interesting filmmakers (and artists – he has also been discovered by the art world). (Zuilhof, 2004a, para. 1)

Weerasethakul’s second feature, Blissfully Yours, was recalled as “far and away the strangest and most original film at Cannes that year” (Zuilhof, 2004a, para. 1). An anecdote is mentioned of the Cannes screening where French secondary school children attended but many left early: “Even seasoned experts left the cinema shaking their heads. And the connoisseurs who stayed and said they admired the film were also unable to describe it” (2004a, para. 1). Meanwhile, Tropical Malady was described as “strange, 6 Due to the unfamiliarity of this kind of long name for Western critics, Weerasethakul has encouraged journalists to simply call him Joe, which is close to his Thai nickname, Jei. The ordinary connotation of the name Joe in the English language, which sets it in contrast to the extraordinary full name of Apichatpong Weerasethakul, has been used as a way to connote a complicated mode of storytelling in his films and in relation to his unique auteur status in both the film and the art world. Newspapers and film magazines have also adopted Weerasethakul’s name as part of titles for their articles and interviews with the director, such as “Apichatpong Weerasethakul: No Ordinary Joe,” written by the notable film critic Donald Richie (who played a key role in consecrating the 1950s generation of Japanese directors) for the Japan Times.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

55

confusing, exotic and erotic” and was highlighted as a film that had won the “Un Certain Regard” prize at Cannes (2004a, para. 1). This recognition was linked by Zuilhof to the IFFR’s insightful vision, having supported the director early in his career with his directorial debut and allowing the festival team “to pat ourselves on the back vainly” (2004a, para. 1). Through this introductory statement, the blog allows the voice of the festival programmer to express overall excitement about a series of early films from an up-and-coming director along with presenting their expert knowledge and niche cultural capital, whilst the IFFR itself is positioned as having a strong insider position in the film festival domain. Moving on to discuss the themed programme which functions to introduce independent filmmakers from the region, the weblog pushes the idea of generational collective filmmakers sharing the same regional and geographical connections. Weerasethakul’s third feature, Tropical Malady, which won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 2004, was selected for the programme along with The Adventure of Iron Pussy (2003), which Weerasethakul codirected with another Thai artist, Michael Shaowanasai, and numerous other Thai and Southeast Asian films.7 The writer then introduces other directors in the programme. Listed in the first entry are James Lee from Malaysia, Garin Nugroho from Indonesia, and Lav Diaz from the Philippines. The subsequent blog published the following month (Zuilhof, 2004b) focused on collective authorship aided by digital technologies and virtual geographical connections. Conceptualizing the space of Southeast Asia, Zuilhof addressed the region’s size and diversity before reflecting that the term “archipelago,” both in terms of the geographical and the cultural, could be a way to describe its cinematic characteristics. While the location may be in the “third world,” its digital cultural connections are seen to be in the first, placing its cinematic cultural connections “somewhere in this fourth world” (Zuilhof, 2004b, para. 3). Resonating with the idea of destabilizing hierarchies of the film festival circuit, the choice of words used in the weblog such as “archipelago” and “fourth world” brings to mind an earlier discussion of alternative film networks that sought to shift the context of a cinematic “centre” beyond those established in Europe (Loist, 2016). The term “archipelago” was used by Joshua Neves in his writing on Southeast Asian film connections along with other terms such as “short circuit” discussed by Nornes, or “rhizome” opted for by Robbins and Saglier (cited in Loist, 2016, p. 51), all of which represent 7 For the list of all the f ilms screened in this programme, see https://iffr.com/en/2005/ programme-sections/seaeyes.

56 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

ways of incorporating multiple agencies and imagining new landscapes with less haunted discourses and cultural hierarchies.8 The figure of Khavn De La Cruz from the Philippines was pointed out as part of these growing collective geographies and virtual landscapes (Zuilhof, 2004b, para. 3). De La Cruz’s works were described through “the visual language of the splatter-horror-gore and sex film” (Zuilhof, 2004b, para. 6) with their social and political implications being linked to the cult films of the Japanese auteur Takashi Miike, the German filmmaker Jorg Buttgereit, and the Dutch director Aryan Kaganof. Featured in Khavn De La Cruz’s short film Headless/Pugot (2004) is the performative work of Lav Diaz, “regarded as the most promising independent film maker in the Philippines” (Zuilhof, 2004b, para. 9). The links made across national, regional, and digital landscapes were highlighted further as De La Cruz was introduced as a musician who “often makes his own music for his films, [and] runs an artists and web café” along with his digital film festival, MOV (Zuilhof, 2004b, para. 10). Other filmmakers who worked across digital and transmedia platforms were also mentioned, including James Lee and Ho Yuhang from Malaysia, whose works have been compared to the established auteur Tsai Ming-liang (Zuilhof, 2004c). Excitement at the crossing of spaces and media platforms in Southeast Asia was noted in another blog entry introducing the Indonesian filmmaker Garin Nugroho (described as “the man who brought modern cinema to Indonesia”) (Zuilhof, 2004d, para. 1). Zuilhof also reviewed a book about Nugroho produced by a collective led by Philip Cheah, “the editor of the music magazine BigO and the authoritative director of the Singapore Film Festival” (Zuilhof, 2004d, para. 1). The cinema collectives and expanded geographical landscapes highlighted in these blogs have played an important role in shaping critical discourses of film authorship in relation to Southeast Asian cinema beyond those of individual auteurs, a specific national cinema, or Anglo-European modernist filmmaking. This critical framing also paved the way for collective writing about filmmakers by a growing body of regional and transnational cinephiles both in print and digital formats. The aforementioned book about Nugroho reviewed by Zuilhof was the product of a collective “published in cooperation with SET Film Workshop, Nugroho’s own production company” (Zuilhof, 2004d, para. 1), and was written by various contributors on different 8 For a recent exploration into the fluid cartographies of film and media landscapes within Southeast Asia, see Lovatt and Trice (2021). The Asian Film Archive has also presented the programme “Reframe: INLAND, ISLAND” curated by Patrick F. Campos in 2022, see Asian Film Archive (2022).

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

57

occasions before being compiled as a book. Similar kinds of publications and collectibles by critics and academics can be found forming around the works of Weerasethakul such as books by the collective Film Virus in Thailand (Subyen, 2007; Subyen & Watcharathanin, 2010). Zuilhof also wrote for Critizine, which emerged in 2005 as a collective online magazine shaping the discourse on Southeast Asian cinema. It was founded by the late Alexis Tioseco and contributed to by cinephiles/critics/academics invested in the film festival network and regional collectives, and who wanted to foster young filmmakers in the region.9 The incorporation of online media platforms for festival paratexts and this period of paratextual productivity by regional film communities effectively drew attention to the many authorial figures who had become cultural intermediaries engaging with existing discourses associated with European film festivals, while also challenging them with new terms of reference. Towards the end of 2004 just before the opening of the festival with its Southeast Asian programme, the IFFR published another series of weblogs drawing attention to the news of the Indian Ocean earthquake and the tsunami that had followed. Titled “Reactions to Weblog S.E.A. Eyes,” the first post was contributed to by those who had followed the weblogs, further revealing layers of collectivity that formed around the “S.E.A. Eyes” programme. A message from American artist Jenny Person suggested the need to address the tragedy in the upcoming “S.E.A. Eyes” programme, or around it, since the context that shaped the films in the programme had changed. She drew attention to two other blogs previously published on The Guardian newspaper’s website (IFFR, 2004). Lulu Ratna, an Indonesian short film distributor, expressed a possible way to come to terms with the tragedy by noting that she would address the situation with fellow filmmakers and share any results with the festival. Weaving connections between the festival and associated parties, the film festival weblog (which was later published in the Dutch cinema monthly magazine Skrien and is now under the festival archive banner) presents authorship as part of a growing participatory culture (IFFR, 2005a). While the extensive energy and attention paid to the creation of paratexts surrounding Southeast Asian cinema at film festivals has subsided,10 these earlier figures continue to be referred to as part of the 9 The Criticine website (http://www.criticine.com/) had been maintained for a number of years and was a valuable source of writings on Southeast Asian cinema. It was no longer accessible in a web format after 2020. 10 One of the ongoing networks that continues to foster conversations on Southeast Asian cinema is the Association for Southeast Asian Cinemas (ASEAC). Started in 2004 by Gaik

58 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

ongoing development of Southeast Asian cinema in a transnational context. The collectives created around film festivals and paratextual/cinephilic writings, along with the expanded geopolitics of ecological concerns, also open the field of film authorship and transnational cinema to alternative discourses to come.11

Co-branding the Film Festival through Celebrating Global Masters Beyond directors’ early career stages, festival paratexts also reveal, in illuminating ways, different forms of the enduring relations between film festivals, auteurs, and associated supporters. Cindy Hing-Yuk Wong has remarked on the continuous connections between film festivals and auteurs as part of the drive to “add value” to selected films and their affiliates through invitations to be speakers, jurors, and guests of honour at retrospectives of their careers (2011, p. 101). As part of contemporary auteur culture at film festivals, one of the occasions which reveals the ongoing commemoration of film authorship in festival memory is the celebration of film festival anniversaries. For these occasions, festivals often revisit their own archive via collective memories and commission new paratexts from auteurs, which are further memorialized as part of festival history. Participation in creating paratexts such as commissioned short films for a film festival could be seen as the filmmakers being given “their turn to fete the event and organization which had played such a vital role in ensuring their place in cinematic history” (Mazdon, 2013, p. 121). Examining the authorial contribution to film festival history, this can also be seen as a process of co-branding film festivals through distinguished partners. In 2011, the IFFR celebrated its 40th anniversary, which was presented through various activities around Rotterdam. Different parts of the celebration were introduced in a press release, including the programme called Cheng Khoo, the network has grown through biennial conferences and workshops. See https:// aseaccofficial.wordpress.com/about/ 11 A possible extended exploration on this subject could look into the planetary/ecology discourses that link the works of various filmmakers from the Global South together. In the context of Asia, a prominent project linking various filmmakers and communities of global cinephiles together is “3:11 A Sense of Home,” a series of videos by more than 19 f ilmmakers in response to the Japanese earthquake in March 2011 initiated by Naomi Kawase. The work has been screened across various festivals and platforms and has generated paratexts paying attention to the wider subject of cinema and ecology.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

59

“Not Kidding,” which was for “everyone aged 4 and up” and featured “film as an attraction” with workshops and screenings of animated sounds and images. The festival also released the IFFR Anniversary DVD box set, which compiled a series of short films “that won a Tiger Award or were nominated for the Prix UIP of the European Film Academy from 2005 to 2010” (IFFR, 2010, para. 1). The festival website curated daily content of IFFR memories for 40 days prior to the actual festival, comprising “archival finds, personal anecdotes, interviews, photos and moving images” (IFFR, 2010, para. 1). One of the key aspects of the celebration which was advertised prominently was a specially created essay film by the Dutch filmmaker Frank Scheffer called Tiger Eyes.12 The project was commissioned by the Dutch Media Fund, Pieter van Huystee Film & TV, and the Dutch public broadcaster VPRO, and subsequently toured to the Nederlands Film Festival in Utrecht in 2011 as well as gained media attention through Dutch radio programmes and magazine reviews. A close look at the film as a form of co-created paratext reveals the intricate way in which the festival’s history, personal memories of the filmmakers and programmers, and discourses on film authorship supported by the festival were portrayed and negotiated. Reflecting the position of the IFFR as a global film festival, the selection of distinguished directors featured in the short film reveals a geographical spread of representatives from various continents: from the United States (Jim Jarmusch), Europe (Wim Wenders and Michael Haneke), the Middle East (Abbas Kiarostami), Africa (Abderrahmane Sissako), Latin America (Raul Ruiz), and Asia (Apichatpong Weerasethakul). In the film profile provided by the IFFR, directors were introduced in relation to their personal and professional connections to the festival. Jarmusch is referred to as the director who presented his first film at the IFFR. Wenders is a “long-time festival attendant and fan” (IFFR, 2011, para. 1), Haneke and Sissako were selected as the IFFR Filmmaker in Focus in 1993 and 2007, respectively. Kiarostami, Haneke, and Weerasethakul were introduced as award-winning directors. Weerasethakul was particularly described as a “Golden Palm winner with Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives and HBF celebrity” (IFFR, 2011, para. 1). The organization and structure of the short film gave voice to individual filmmakers by highlighting their early visual memories as a key source of inspiration and creativity. The short film begins with extra-diegetic sound of cranky machinery combined with an electronic ambient track. This brief 12 I am very grateful to Pieter van Huystee Film & TV, which kindly provided a copy of the DVD for me upon my enquiry about the film for research purposes.

60 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

pre-title section is followed by a slow pan from a blank empty space to a close-up shot of an interviewee’s eyes and the top half of their face. The camera captures eyes blinking as the voice-over narrates: “You can take shots of everything, coming from everywhere, put in any order, it always will have a sense.” The last phrase is presented with a full portrait of the Chilean director Raúl Ruiz, who passed away that year. Similar to the opening sequence with Ruiz, Weerasethakul is introduced through a voice-over, followed by the slow pan of the director’s eyes and face. The director states that “film is something close to what I believe, which is Buddhism. It is about transformation and about illusion.” The voice-over ends with the camera focusing on the director’s left eye. These opening sequences work to temporarily deconstruct the wholeness or coherence of the filmmaker’s image. Of course, they also draw attention to the eye and the I, or “what the subject sees and what the subject is” in the essay film tradition (Turim, in Rascaroli, 2009, p. 8). Following this introduction, each director was asked by an unseen interviewer to discuss what cinema means to them, their first visual memories, and their views on the current state of cinema. The question about first visual memories explicitly framed all the directors as the creative source of their works. Interestingly, the studio-based images of the filmmakers and their voices are edited into both excerpts from their films and new visual reconstructions of their memories. Weerasethakul begins talking about his memory in Thai while looking directly at the camera. He describes a photographic snapshot of his daily routine with his mother as they would stand in front of a wooden house waiting to give alms to a monk. Cutting between a dim studio setting and the vivid colours of this scene13 set in Thailand reminds audiences to be aware that they are watching a reconstructed memory based on Weerasethakul’s account of a photograph from his childhood. As the conversation shifts to Weerasethakul’s view on the state of cinema, the filmmaker begins speaking in English and looks off-screen at the presumed interviewer. The director describes cinema as being young and still “primitive.” Two shots from Uncle Boonmee appear on the screen (the shot of a buffalo standing behind a tree with a rice paddy field in the background, and the often-discussed fantasy sex scene of the princess and 13 The shot of the director in the interview room cuts to a close-up shot of lotus flowers and marigolds in a wrinkled hand. The camera gradually zooms out to reveal that it is a monk’s hand. This is followed by a shot taken inside a wooden house capturing a scene outside the window with a view of banana trees, a girl sitting by the trees, and a monk walking on the street further behind.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

61

a cat fish (see, for example, Howell, 2010; Lacey, 2010; Rose, 2010; Utterson, 2017). Through his choice of words, Weerasethakul locates the state of cinema with his work and the IFFR. The term “primitive” in this context recalls the name of the larger intermedial project called Primitive, within which Uncle Boonmee was the finale funded by the HBF. Further projecting the future of filmmaking with personal and experimental cinema, Weerasethakul notes that there is still room to experiment and that he sees himself “blindly mixing things” like an alchemist. After the interviews with selected filmmakers, the short film ends with intertitles of a list of former festival programmers who selected all the featured directors. This pairing between established film directors and IFFR festival directors throughout the course of the IFFR’s history highlights the individual support lying behind the success of selected auteurs. Weerasethakul was chosen by Simon Field, who has also been one of the director’s long-time supporters and producers. The positioning of Weerasethakul amongst others who have been part of the IFFR’s history moves away from the earlier national and regional cinema framing to the broader canon of world cinema filmmakers and the authority of film festival directors in co-creating future discourses of cinema. The celebration of the IFFR and the HBF through anniversary events and associated paratexts reflects the idea of “co-branding,” in which the cultural value of the director is transferred onto the brand of the initial supporter. Commonly used in the fields of marketing and corporate partnerships to highlight the shared characteristics and attributes between a celebrity figure and a brand (Seno & Lukas, 2007, p. 123), in the context of the IFFR the matches between the HBF and directors allow the festival to highlight its aesthetic discoveries of global talent. From a marketing viewpoint, the two (and more) partners are often part of “a continuing exchange, or flow, of strategically desirable image attributes, or ‘meaning,’ between the cobranding parties that can be managed in an exclusive and dynamic process” (Seno & Lukas, 2007, p. 123). Significantly, this dimension of co-branding expands from earlier geopolitical discourses and into dialogic and mutual partnerships between the fund and the auteur over time. By 2020, as the IFFR prepared for its upcoming 50th anniversary in 2021, the festival had invited participants to submit their personal stories – “an anecdote, off-thewall story, tall tale or magical memory” (IFFR, 2020b, para. 1) – whereby 25 accounts would be selected as part of the celebration programme and “officially archived by the Rotterdam Municipality Archives” (IFFR, 2020b, para. 3). Reflective of the era of participatory culture, the above call invited multiple authorial agencies to form parts of the festival history. This kind

62 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

of public engagement has also been facilitated by the design of expanded cinema and digital participations, as I’ll consider next.

Film Festival Auteur Culture, Experiential Cinema, and Digital Participation In 2018, Weerasethakul conceived and co-designed an immersive cinematic experience as part of the IFFR called SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL. The synopsis on the website describes it as “neither a film, an installation, nor an imaginary script. It is an actual operational hotel where the guests who have booked a bed (single or double) all end up in the same screening room” (IFFR, 2018a). This project stood out from other kind of film screenings at the festival, as audiences were experiencing not just the film but were also taking part in a communal sleeping activity and, therefore, co-creating an environment and experience for other participants. In connection with the previous section, I will draw attention to the collaborative and co-branding strategies between the filmmaker and the festival in the development of this project, along with the auteurist reading adopted by critics to frame the reception within Weerasethakul’s body of work. The main focus of this section, however, is on the way the hybrid and immersive design encourages critics and cinephiles to write about their own intimate experiences with the exhibition. These engagements move away from traditional discourses of film authorship associated with film festivals to the importance of cinephiles and their labour. Apart from cinephilic writings, other participants used social media and hashtags to share snapshots of their visits. This collection of paratexts also reveal the changing landscapes of film festival within the current climate of experience economy. The description of SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL in different festival reports draw attention to its interesting combination of unique architectural design, commercial branding, and immersive and participatory experiences. These include the construction of sleeping spaces on seven 14 platforms made of metal-frame scaffolding (Camia, 2018; Lim, 2018). Each bed had a bedside table, a lamp, branded pillow(s), bottles of water, and essential hotel amenities (Filmcomment, 2018). Each space was separated with mesh and canvas curtains to provide privacy while fellow participants could still see the 14 A report by Filmcomment, however, noted that there were six beds (Filmcomment, 2018) while Artforum’s report mentioned “twenty beds on platforms of varying heights” (Jeppesen, 2018).

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

63

shadows and presence of others (Caillard, 2021; Lim, 2018). The beds were organized to get a view of the iconic circular screen hanging from the wall. Images on the screen were non-repeat archival footage (mainly of the sea, landscape, people, and animals sleeping) selected from the Eye Filmmuseum and the Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision, combined with the ambience sound by Weerasethakul’s long-time sound designer, Akritchalerm Kalayanamitr (Filmcomment, 2018). The location of the screen by the window also gave a partial view of the cityscape in the background (Caillard, 2021; Turner, 2018). The pop-up experience was held at the Postillion Convention Centre within the World Trade Center building in Rotterdam where guests were also greeted with a check-in lounge, a hotel bar, and a breakfast area. Apart from booking the bed, the viewing balcony also offered an alternative space to see the screen and the guests sleeping below with free admission from 16:00 to 22:00 (IFFR, 2018a). A further look into the explanation of the design reveals the way the project was conceptualized through mutual interests and long-term relationships between the IFFR and Weerasethakul. In the podcast interview conducted during the festival published by Film Comment, Jordan Cronk referred to the festival catalogue that describes the project as something that the director “wanted to do for a while” and “were looking for maybe a venue or collaborators that would be able to realize it” (Filmcomment, 2018, 1:15). Weerasethakul responded to the remark by referring to his past connections with the festival that the IFFR is the first film festival that “supported and showed my first film” (Filmcomment, 2018, 1:26) and that they are “pioneers in bridging or asking question[s] about this line between art and cinema” (Filmcomment, 2018, 1:34). He further added that in recent years they dedicated a team to pursue this subject again and asked him to “do something in this idea of ‘expanded cinema’” (Filmcomment, 2018, 2:00). Weerasethakul discussed how the project was developed online with him providing the sketch of the architecture and ideas evolved through conversions with the curator Edwin Carels and the team. The circular screen design, for example, emerged from their dialogue about a way to offer an alternative viewing experience from the square cinema that audiences have to see throughout the festival (Filmcomment, 2018, 9:55–10:20). The team led by Danielle van der Kooij was described as being “very thorough” with regard to every detail, including the branded pillow cases and the water bottles, all within the time period of only a month – a common working time frame for the festival (which was a surprise to the director, who mentioned that it usually takes longer for art projects to be realized) (Filmcomment, 2018, 6:00–7:20). This festival-auteur collaboration was also expanded to

64 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

the arrangement of the new thematic programme called “Frameworks for Audio-visual Art” for an established filmmaker to recommend emerging talents for the festival. As part of this programme, Weerasethakul acted as a mediator, introducing Pathompon Tesprateep, a filmmaker from Bangkok, for the IFFR (Baeten, 2017). Apart from the festival-auteur long-term relationship, reflections by members of the trade press also connected the exhibition with Weerasethakul’s body of work, particularly in relation to his interest in the subject of sleep and alternative screening experiences. Matt Turner, writing for Sight & Sound, highlighted how “[s]leep has been an integral part of the films of Apichatpong Weerasethakul” (2018, para. 1). He then made a connection to Weerasethakul’s Cemetery of Splendour (2015) and the all-night retrospective screening of the director’s works at the Tate Modern in London in 2016. Turner also cited the festival’s event website (https:// www.sleepcinemahotel.com), which mentioned the architectural reference from Sergei Eisenstein’s Strike, “where workers sit atop scaffold towers, their bodies carving sharply silhouettes against the geometric frames” (Turner, 2018, para. 2). The connection made between the director’s works and the citation to another auteur filmmaker here reflect the long-standing practice of film critics and cinephiles that sustains auteur culture over time. Along this line, it is also possible to link SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL with the director’s past site-specific screenings, such as the “Film on the Rocks” project at Koh Yao Noi in southern Thailand, co-curated by Tilda Swinton with local hosts from the fashion and luxury hotel sectors in 2012. During that oceanic pop-up screening, audiences were transported by boats to rafts designed by German-born and Beijing-based architect Ole Scheeren (see Scheeren, 2012). SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL was held in 2018, six years after the “Film on the Rocks” project. Over those years film and media academics explored the growth of pop-up and immersive film screenings in various contexts in the Global North (see, for example, Atkinson & Kennedy, 2016b). In the UK, the summer of 2015 (dubbed the “Summer of Live”) has been noted as the height of the immersive cinema-going trend (Atkinson & Kennedy, 2016a, p. 140). This was led by the commercial pop-up exhibitor Secret Cinema, which started in 2007. Audiences who attended these site-specific screenings of classic films were encouraged to dress up as characters and join different immersive activities. Studies of these kinds of screenings in the UK explored their recurring typology (Atkinson & Kennedy, 2016a), audience responses, associations with cult film screenings, and branding strategies (Pett, 2016, 2021).

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

65

Within the wider context of the “experience economy” (Pine & Gilmore, 2013), whereby the consumer market has shifted from the era of the service economy to the experience economy, Emma Pett has explored the neoliberal economic logic surrounding this kind of businesses (see Pett, 2021, introduction). In addition to the film industry, businesses in the experience economy which target “experience-driven millennials” (Raphael, 2017) also include the tourism, the hospitality, and the urban design sectors. The experiential cinema boom also intersects with the media world through trends such as Instagrammable pop-up hotels and glamping (glam + camping) (Tophotelnews Editor, 2018). Under this climate, art and cultural institutions have also been encouraged to engage more with public audiences through participatory practices (Pett, 2021, p. 94). The Tate Modern’s exhibition of Christian Marclay’s The Clock (2010), which successfully attracted a cult following in 2018–2019, was one such project (for more, see Pett, 2021, ch. 3). Published festival reports about the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL offer a clear illustration of the way festival-auteur collaborations were designed to encourage audience reflections about their own experiences. Recurring themes found in these reports include a description of the “experience” of participants before, during, and after entering the cinema/hotel and the process of their being immersed in film footage and atmospheric sounds until they fell asleep. Following the introduction of the project in relation to Weerasethakul’s past works, Turner’s review of the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL describes the moment of arriving at the venue after midnight and that there seems to be no rule to experience the space except the “presumed conviviality” of being in a “hostel” and “the expectation of silence” of being in a cinema (Turner, 2018, para. 3). A large part of his writing then reflects on various objects, cinematic references, and bodily responses to the cinema-hotel branding and experience. At the next cut, a shot of clouds breaking over a landscape recalls Peter Hutton. Then some striking closeups that are very Carl Theodor Dreyer in composition; and cycles of flowers in bloom that look like lost Mary Field films. Is this sublime passage my reward for staying awake this long? […] It’s past 3 am. I fill up my bottle. Is it still SLEEPCINEMAWATER if you replace it with tap water? How much should I watch? Is it strange that I’m seeking excitement from something designed to be somnolent? Would I be doing the experience a better service by letting sleep arrive, or is it revealing that I want to stay awake to absorb more?

66 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

It is all these questions and others drift through my overactive subconscious that I fall into slumber. I awake often, each time to a new radiant plane of circular scenery, and each time having forgotten where I am, or even what I am. (Turner, 2018, para. 7–9)

The report concludes with Turner’s reflection that he might have developed a fever and deciding to “crawl out of bed” (Turner, 2018, para. 11). He then writes on the festival dream book and “stumble[s] out in the cold streets of Rotterdam” while still feeling “stuck in what the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL” literature describes as Apichatpong’s “preferred plane of existence” (Turner, 2018, para. 11). Accounts of the process of participants’ entering and leaving the venue and drifting along during the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL event can be found in other festival reports. Giovanni Marchini Camia’s (2018) recollection of the experience published in The Guardian begins with a similar description: “It’s late at night. I’m not sure exactly when, because my phone has been off for hours and I’ve long since lost track of time. […] I could be on a ship, sailing across the sea. Or, perhaps, back in my mother’s womb, viewing the outside world via a mysterious portal” (2018, para. 1). For him, “[a]s tiredness set in, [he] found [his] mind began to travel freely, propelled in myriad directions by images that were no longer even consciously registered” (2018, para. 6). In the context of today’s experiential cinema, Pett draws attention to the term “immersive” in relation to the staging of cinema viewing that “break[s] the ‘fourth wall’ to engage with audiences” (Pett, 2021, p. 13). In the case of SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL, as experienced by Turner and Camia, there seems to be layers of immersion (the transition into the non-linear time of the cinema-hotel experience and the process of drifting and falling asleep) as well as certain degrees of self-reflection (i.e. the process of getting more water or being conscious about one’s own physical conditions and personal memories). Film authorship (i.e. a remark on the film director[s]) is one part of the different planes of relation between the audience, the exhibition, and cinema space. The focus in these writings is largely on the subject position of the audience and their immersive experiences. In a stream-of-consciousness piece by Travis Jeppesen (2018) published in Art Forum, the immersive experience also engages with a description of the desire to be one with cinema that resonates with a tradition in cinephilia. Jeppesen begins with a short description of the project before noting on the process of prepping himself for the “sensorial fullness” by “pop[ping] an Ambien and sit[ting] in bed writing until [he] was rolled up in the sonorous

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

67

fabric the filmmaker wove” (2018, para. 2). The rest of the diary, apart from the final paragraph on the process of waking up, describes intimate moments between himself and the cinema: Holes in the side of the pleasure ship. Screen turns from sepia to gray. Sometimes I want to smoke something that is less than myself. But I know it’s impossible. Why even air the grievance? What if there was a way to inscribe this cinema into my veins[?] To keep writing until it, the entire world, disappears. Now two rats sleeping. Side by side, the rats make their own dreams. They don’t need the cinema to do that for them. When we fall asleep at night, do we dream the same dream as rats? I miss my cat. Why couldn’t I bring my cat to the SleepCinemaHotel[?] Will have to make one for him at home. (Jeppesen, 2018, para. 11–14)

In the context of cinephilia’s interest in “enchanting images,” Sarah Keller describes the intimate relationship between cinephiles and cinema through the notion of love. Just as with love, the dynamics of spectatorship depend on both what and how one beholds. From the position of beholder, the spectator negotiates the distance – actual and felt – between that position and what is beheld as well as her feelings about what she sees. From the position of the love, the urge is frequently to bridge that distance somehow: to merge with the object of desire. (Keller, 2020, p. 94)

This kind of reflection resonates with Emma Pett’s remark on audience engagements with experiential cinema. Mentioning the work of Oliver Grau on virtual art, Pett notes on the way immersion can be achieved through engaging less with the historical/critical domains and more with the affective experiences (Pett, 2021, p. 16). Altogether, these paratexts move away from the subject of the creator/producer to those of audiences/cinephiles. There are, of course, other kinds of viewing positions, some of which draw closer connections between audiences and the filmmaker’s agency. Duncan Caillard, for example, reflects on a form of cinematic resistance by linking the notion of sleep and immersive viewing to Thailand’s social and political contexts (see Caillard, 2021). This position can also be discussed in relation to

68 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

the film festival’s space as a counter public outside the director’s country of origin. Nevertheless, when considering different reading positions under the logic of the neoliberal experience economy, these festival-related paratexts can be seen as part of cinephilic love and labour which enhance the artistic and aura of exclusivity of all the beholders associated with auteur culture at the film festival. Apart from the above long-form writings, those who contributed to the construction of the project and others who could not attend the event have also participated in the narratives of SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL virtually through tweets and Instagram posts. From December 2017 leading up to the festival in January 2018, a community of storytelling was formed around the main hashtags of #sleepcinemahotel and #sleepcinema, combining those with close connections to the festival organizers, critics, and academics, as well as actual and virtual participants. On Instagram, the IFFR and the team working on SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL shared various photos with different personalized messages that gave a sense of excitement with the festival and the intimacy with the director, such as a post by @guusjeamerica who invited others to “Go check out sleepcinema hotel in Rotterdam! I worked for this project for 2 months selecting the images. You can stay the night! #sleepcinemahotel #apichatpongweerasethakul #iffr https://www.sleepcinemahotel.com” (Guusjeamerica, 2018). Or there was a post by the festival channel @iffr showing Weerasethakul turning to look at the circular screen with the caption “The master himself is at SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL! #apitchapongweerasethakul is checking to see if the video fragments and beds are in order for tomorrow night’s opening of #SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL. Check it out in our stories!” (IFFR, 2018b). Subsequently, various critics and the trade press joined in through their online accounts to report on the project, along with festival patrons sharing the experience of buying tickets, or regretting not being able to join what seemed to them like “a basically perfect event” (Trussell, 2018) that seemed “like a dream” (Gechtman, 2017). Resonating with hotel reviews, several participants also drew attention to the reception and food on offer. With the hashtag #WeAreTheStoriesWeTell, @thehakawatis shared a review of the experience on Instagram focusing on the hotel’s entrance and the breakfast. “[T]he elevator on the way up to the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL features a sleeping #IFFR tiger. […] [A]t breakfast, you are invited to share in curator Edwin Carel’s homemade jam, artist @apichatpong_weerasethakul’s local mango & sticky rice alongside a traditional Dutch spread” (Thehakawatis, 2018). Fireflies magazine shared a photo of the hotel’s reception complete with leaflets and booklets (Fireflies_mag, 2018).

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

69

Creating a humorous contrast between the hospitality industry and the film/ art world (associated with Weerasethakul winning the Golden Palm), film curator and critic Eric Allen Hatch playfully commented that the director is winning again in a new category (Hatch, 2018), and this was responded to by another user confirming that Weerasethakul “is definitely the frontrunner for next year’s best SLEEPCINEMA HOTEL category” (Schoenbrun, 2018). The playful engagements with the hotel components of the exhibition in these tweets extended festival characteristics associated with the art world and cinephile traditions to experiential economy and online participatory culture. As the archival footage seen on screen was not repeated in any way throughout the course of the festival, social media platforms also reveal an alternative form of visual-spatial pleasure through unique photographs taken from different angles in and outside the hotel. Film critic Dana Linssen shared a snapshot of an image on a circular screen showing a green field next to a reservoir connected to a river, and a windmill shot from a bird’s-eye view, along with her reflection on the blurriness between the state of sleeping, dreaming or “something in between” as she “move[s] on to other shores” (Linssen, 2018). Bridging the realm of intermedia experience and external reality, “Roaming Words” shared images of a building and a close-up through a window with the comment, “Just realized my hotel room overlooks the SleepCinemaHotel venue. […] Maybe I would wake up in the middle of the night to see if cinematic dreams fly through the windows” (Roaming Words, 2018). Apart from being personal mementos, the connection between these different memories forms an alternative kind of festival experience, shaped by different physical and subject positions of audiences, the design of the exhibition, and the chosen digital platforms for circulating one’s impressions. The participatory nature of the project and the outcome through these paratexts also heighten the importance of transmediality and participatory culture within today’s film festival and experiential economy.

Conclusion This chapter has contextualized contemporary East Asian film authorship as mediated and remembered through the transmedia archive of the film festival and its connected writings by various supporters that can be viewed together as auteur paratexts. Focusing on materials revolving around the International Film Festival Rotterdam and the Thai filmmaker Apichatpong

70 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Weerasethakul, the chapter discussed the changing position of this filmmaker who emerged through the film festival circuit in the early 2000s at a time in which the festival had started digitizing its publications and broadening its engagements with filmmakers and associated parties online. While there have been a number of works examining the different aspects of film festivals (i.e. De Valck et al., 2016; Iordanova & Cheung, 2010, 2011),15 the clustering of paratexts in relation to a filmmaker such as Weerasethakul reveals the emergent knowledge production and participation that were involved in the discursive framings of national and regional cinema when new filmmakers were introduced from countries in East and Southeast Asia in the early 2000s. As this filmmaker has become a recognizable, celebrated figure across film and art worlds, narratives around generational filmmaking, associations with the film festival’s lineage, and future directions of cinema that speak to the director’s body of work have all been employed to co-brand other filmmakers and programmers of the festival. The broadening of auteur culture to wider audiences through different degrees of physical and virtual encounters also responds to paratextual productivity and participatory auteur culture. In the increasingly transmedia environment of film production and participation in film festivals, different paratextual practices with old and new discursive framings continue to be employed to communicate and sustain auteur culture over time.

Works Cited Ainslie, M. J. (2018). Ratana Pestonji. In M. J. Ainslie & K. Ancuta (Eds.), Thai cinema: The complete guide. London: I. B. Tauris. Amazon.co.uk. (n.d.-a). Mysterious Object at Noon. https://www.amazon.co.uk/ Mysterious-Object-Noon-Djuangjai-Hirunsri/dp/B073SH68GM Andrews, D. (2013). Theorizing art cinemas: Foreign, cult, avant-garde, and beyond. Austin: University of Texas Press. Artfilm. (2008). Artfilm festival 2008. https://www.artfilmfest.sk/wp-content/ uploads/2016/05/ArtFilm_2008_Katalog.pdf Asian Film Archive. (2022). Programme. Reframe: Inland, island. https://asianfilmarchive.org/event-calendar/reframe-inland-island/ Atkinson, S., & Kennedy, H. W. (2016a). Introduction – Inside-the-scenes: The rise of experiential cinema. Participations, 13(1), 139–151. 15 See a list of resources on the subject at Film Festival Research (http://www.filmfestivalresearch.org/), the website for the Film Festival Research Network.

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

71

Atkinson, S., & Kennedy, H. W. (Eds.). (2016b). Themed section 1: Experiential cinema, Participations, 13(1), 139–279. Baeten, C. (2017, December 11). Check in at SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL by Apichatpong Weerasethakul at IFFR 2018. IFFR. https://press.iffr.com/162032-check-in-atsleepcinemahotel-by-apichatpong-weerasethakul-at-iffr-2018 Baskett, M. (2008). The attractive empire: Transnational film culture in imperial Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Press. Bourdieu, P. (1991). Language and symbolic power. Cambridge: Polity Press. Bourdieu, P. (1993). The field of cultural production: Essays on art and literature. Cambridge: Polity Press. Caillard, D. (2021). Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s sleep cinema: Intimacy, inattention, surrealism. Currents Journal, Archipelagic Encounters. https://currentsjournal.net/Apichatpong-Weerasethakuls-Sleep-Cinema Camia, G. M. (2018, February 2). Ghosts in the machine: A night at the “hotel” where films become dreams. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/ feb/02/sleepcinemahotel-apichatpong-weerasethakul-film-sleep-dream. Cunningham, D. (2008). “It’s all there, it’s no dream”: Vertigo and the redemptive pleasures of the cinephilic pilgrimage. Screen, 49(2), 123–141. De la Garza, A., & Doughty, R., & Shaw, D. (Eds.). (2020). Transnational screens: Expanding the borders of transnational cinema. Oxon and New York: Routledge. De Valck, M. (2007). Film festivals: From European geopolitics to global cinephilia. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. De Valck, M. (2014). Film festivals, Bourdieu, and the economization of culture. Canadian Journal of Film Studies, 23(1), 74–89. De Valck, M., Kredell, B., & Loist, S. (Eds.). (2016). Film festivals: History, theory, method, practice. London and New York: Routledge. Di Chiara, F., & Re, V. (2011). Film festival/film history: The impact of film festivals on cinema historiography. Il cinema ritrovato and beyond. Cinémas: Journal of Film Studies, 21(2–3), 131–151. https://id.erudit.org/iderudit/1005587ar Elsaesser, T. (1993). The limits of liberty and the right to self-expression. Rotterdam Film Festival Brochure, 6–7. Elsaesser, T. (2005). European cinema: Face to face with Hollywood. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Falicov, T. L. (2010). Migrating from South to North: The role of film festivals in funding and shaping Global South film and video. In G. Elmer, C. H. Davis, J. Marchessault, & J. McCullough (Eds.), Locating migrating media (pp. 3–22). Lanham: Lexington Books. Filmcomment. (2018). Apichatpong Weerasethakul on SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL. [Audio podcast]. Apple. https://podcasts.apple.com/dk/podcast/ apichatpong-weerasethakul-on-sleepcinemahotel/id1051091555?i=1000401245285

72 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Fireflies_mag. (2018, January 26). Checking in at @kickthemachine’s SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL #IFFR2018. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/fireflies_mag/ status/956922193799208960 Gechtman, K. (2017, December 12). This sounds like a dream! SleepCinemaHotel with Apichatpong Weerasethakul at #IFFR. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter. com/KarinaGechtman/status/940592640210407425 Gray, J. (2010). Show sold separately: Promos, spoilers, and other media paratexts. New York: New York University Press. Guusjeamerica. (2018). Go check out sleepcinema hotel in Rotterdam! I worked for this project for 2 months selecting the images. You can stay the night! #sleepcinemahotel #apichatpongweerasethakul #iffr https://www.sleepcinemahotel. com. [Photograph]. [Instagram post]. Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/p/ BeYjHVnBDqc/ Halasa, M., Fallaux, E., & Press, N. (Eds.). (2003). True variety: Funding the art of world cinema. London: Rose Issa Projects. Halle, R. (2010). Offering tales they want to hear: Transnational European film funding as neo-orientalism. In R. Galt & K. Schoonover (Eds.), Global art cinema: New theories and histories. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. Harbord, J. (2002). Film cultures. London: Sage. Hatch, E. A. (2018). New category this year, and it’s being taken home by a very deserving winner: The #Grammy for best Apichatpong goes to … Apichatpong Weerasethakul! [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/ericallenhatch/ status/957839657106014208 Hillier, J. (Ed.). (1985). Cahiers du Cinéma, The 1950s: Neo-realism, Hollywood, new wave. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Howell, P. (2010, September 22). Uncle Boonmee: A ghostly monkey, a sexy fish and a world of wonder. The Star. https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/ movies/2010/09/22/uncle_boonmee_a_ghostly_monkey_a_sexy_fish_and_a_ world_of_wonder.html IFFR. (2004). Reactions to weblog S.E.A. Eyes. https://if fr.com/en/blog/ reactions-to-weblog-sea-eyes IFFR. (2005a). SEA Eyes. https://iffr.com/en/blog/sea-eyes IFFR . (2010). IFFR celebrates X L jubilee. ht t ps://if f r.com/en/blog/ iffr-celebrates-xl-jubilee IFFR. (2011). Tiger Eyes. https://iffr.com/en/2011/films/tiger-eyes IFFR. (2018a). SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL . https://if fr.com/en/2018/f ilms/ sleepcinemahotel IFFR. (2018b). The master himself is at SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL!#apitchapongw eerasethakul is checking to see if the video fragments and beds are in order for tomorrow nights opening of #SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL. Check it out in our

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

73

stories! [Photograph]. [Instagram post]. Instagram. https://www.instagram. com/p/BeViuG0ns1g/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link IFFR. (2019). 30 years of support. https://iffr.com/en/blog/30-years-of-support IFFR. (2020a). IFFR official selection logos & ad rates 2020. https://iffr.com/en/ iffr-official-selection-logos-ad-rates-2020 IFFR. (2020b). IFFR plays back. https://iffr.com/en/iffr-plays-back IFFR. (n.d.). About the Hubert Bals Fund. https://iffr.com/en/about-the-hubertbals-fund Ingawanij, M. A., & MacDonald, R. L. (2006). Blissfully whose? Jungle pleasures, ultra-modernist. New Cinemas, 4(1), 37–58. Iordanova, D. (2016). The film festival and film culture’s transnational essence. In M. de Valck, B. Kredell, & S. Loist (Eds.), Film festivals: History, theory, method, practice (pp. xi–xvii). New York and London: Routledge. Iordanova, D., & Cheung, R. (Eds.). (2010). Film festival yearbook 2: Film festivals and imagined communities. St. Andrews: St. Andrews Film Studies. Iordanova, D., & Cheung, R. (Eds.). (2011). Film festival yearbook 3: Film festivals and East Asia. St. Andrews: St. Andrews Film Studies. Jenkins, D. (2010). Who is Apichatpong Weerasethakul? Time Out London. http:// www.timeout.com/london/film/who-is-apichatpong-weerasethakul-1 Jeppesen, T. (2018, February 15). Lazy Sunday: Travis Jeppesen on Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s SleepCinemaHotel. Art Forum. https://www.artforum.com/ film/travis-jeppesen-on-apichatpong-weerasethakul-s-sleepcinemahotel-74262 Kapsis, R. E. (1992). Hitchcock: The making of a reputation. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Keller, S. (2020). Anxious cinephilia: Pleasure & peril at the movies. New York: Columbia University Press. Lacey, L. (2010, September 22). Uncle Boonmee: Monkey ghosts and catf ish sex. Globe and Mail. https://w w w.theglobeandmail.com/arts/f ilm/ uncle-boonmee-monkey-ghosts-and-catfish-sex/article4326738/ Lim, P. (2018, March 1). The science of snooze. Bangkok Post. https://www.bangkokpost.com/life/social-and-lifestyle/1420343/the-science-of-snooze Linssen, D. (2018, January 27). Was it sleep or was it dream? Or was it something in between? Now I move on to other shores. Sleepcinemahotel by @kickthemachine at the @IFFR. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/danalinssen/ status/957166193638559745 Loist, S. (2016). The film festival circuit: Networks, hierarchies, and circulation. In M. de Valck, B. Kredell, & S. Loist (Eds.), Film festivals: History, theory, method, practice (pp. 49–64). London and New York: Routledge. Lovatt, P. & Trice, J. N. (2021). Theorizing region: Film and video cultures in Southeast Asia. JCMS: Journal of Cinema and Media Studies, 60(3), 158-162.

74 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Mazdon, L. (2013). Festival de Cannes: Archive or archivist? In A. Marlow-Mann (Ed.), Film festival yearbook 5: Archival film festivals (pp. 117–128). St. Andrews: St. Andrews Film Studies Press. Mubi. (n.d.). Mysterious Object at Noon. https://mubi.com/films/mysterious-objectat-noon Neale, S. (1981). Art cinema as institution. Screen, 22(1), 11–39. http://screen.oxfordjournals.org/content/22/1/11.extract O’Hehir, A. (2010, May 22). Best of Cannes: “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.” Salon. http://www.salon.com/2010/05/22/uncle_bonghit/ Ostrowska, D. (2016). Making film history at the Cannes Film Festival. In M. de Valck, B. Kredell, & S. Loist (Eds.), Film festivals: History, theory, method, practice (pp. 18–33). London and New York: Routledge. Paiva, I. C. (2020, December 12). I don’t necessairily [sic] have a problem with his films being taught in class. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/Isa_CamPaiva/ status/1337731769085399043 Pett, E. (2016). “Stay disconnected!” Eventising Star Wars for transmedia audiences. Participations: Journal of Audience & Reception Studies, 13(1), 152–169. Pett, E. (2021). Experiencing cinema: Participatory film cultures, immersive media and the experience economy. London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic. Pine, B. J., & Gilmore, J. H. (2013). The experience economy: Past, present and future. In J. Sundbo & F. Sørensen (Eds.), Handbook on the experience economy (pp. 21–44). Northampton: Edward Elgar. Quandt, J. (Ed.). (2009). Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Wien: Synema Publikationen. Raphael, R. (2017, April 6). Can pop-up hotels become a permanent f ixture with travelers? Fast Company. https://www.fastcompany.com/3069163/ will-pop-up-hotels-become-a-permanent-fixture-of-the-millennial-tr Rascaroli, L. (2009). The personal camera: Subjective cinema and the essay film. London and New York: Wallflower Press. Rayns, T. (n.d.). Mysterious Object at Noon (Dokfa nai meuman): A Film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Second Run DVD. https://www.secondrundvd.com/ release_more_moan.html Re, V. (2018). Beyond the threshold: Paratext, transcendence, and time in the contemporary media landscape. In S. Pesce & P. Noto (Eds.), The politics of ephemeral digital media: Permanence and obsolescence in paratexts (pp. 60–74). London: Routledge. Rithdee, K. (2016, April 21). Santi-Vina film selected to screen at Cannes Classics section. Bangkok Post. https://www.bangkokpost.com/thailand/general/931053/ santi-vina-film-selected-to-screen-at-cannes-classic-section Roaming Words. (2018, January 25). Just realized my hotel room overlooks the SleepCinemaHotel venue.… Maybe I would wake up in the middle of the night

Film Festivals, Par atex tual Ne t work s, and the Mediated Auteur Life C ycle

75

to see if cinematic dreams fly through the windows. Or open an alt press lounge? [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/RoamingWords/status/956545997097832448 Roddick, N. (2009). Coming to a server near you: The film festival in the age of digital reproduction. In D. Iordanova & R. Rhyne (Eds.), Film festival yearbook 1: The festival circuit (pp. 159–167). St. Andrews: St. Andrews Film Studies Press in Collaboration with College Gate Press. Rose, S. (2010, November 11). “You don’t have to understand everything”: Apichatpong Weerasethakul. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2010/nov/11/ apichatpong-weerasethakul-director-uncle-boonmee-interview Rosenbaum, J. (2002, March 21). Collected consciousness. Chicago Reader. https:// www.chicagoreader.com/chicago/collected-consciousness/Content?oid=908065 Ross, M. (2011). The film festival as producer: Latin American films and Rotterdam’s Hubert Bals fund. Screen, 52(2), 261–267. Ruiz, P. A. (2011). El canon de Rotterdam. Pantallas, 27. Scheeren, B. O. (2012, March 20). Archipelago cinema: Ole Scheeren creates floating auditorium for Thailand’s Film on the Rocks festival. Büro Ole Scheeren. https://buro-os.com/news/archipelago-cinema--ole-scheeren-creates-floatingauditorium-for-thailand-s-film-on-the-rocks-festivalSchoenbrun, J. (2018). I went to his SLEEPCINEMA HOTEL last night in Rotterdam and can confirm that he is definitely the frontrunner for next year’s best SLEEPCINEMA HOTEL category. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/dantheeyeslicer/ status/957925049008304128 Seno, D., & Lukas, B. A. (2007). The equity effect of product endorsement by celebrities: A conceptual framework from a co-branding perspective. European Journal of Marketing, 41(1/2), 121–134. Shaw, D. (2016). European co-production funds and Latin American cinema: Processes of othering and bourgeois cinephilia in Claudia Llosa’s La teta asustada. Diogenes, 62(1), 88–98. Spicer, P. (2011). The films of Kenji Mizoguchi: Authorship and vernacular style. [Doctoral dissertation, University of Portsmouth]. University of Portsmouth Research Portal. https://researchportal.port.ac.uk/portal/f iles/6061330/ SPICER_167321.pdf Stephens, C. (2000, Spring). Siamese spin. Filmmaker. https://filmmakermagazine. com/archives/issues/spring2000/short_reports/siamese_spin.php Stringer, J. (2002). Global cities and the international film festival economy. In M. Shiel (Ed.), Cinema and the city: Film and urban societies in a global context (pp. 134–144). Oxford and New York: Blackwell Publishing. Stringer, J. (2011). Japan 1951–1970: National cinema as cultural currency. In D. Iordanova & R. Cheung (Eds.), Film festival yearbook 3: Film festivals and East Asia (pp. 62–80). St. Andrews: St. Andrews Film Studies Press.

76 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Subyen, S. (2007). Satvikal/Unknown Forces: The illuminated art of Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Bangkok: Openbooks. Subyen, S., & Watcharathanin, T. (Eds.). (2010). Transnational film funding mission/ Pathibatkan Nangtun Kamchat. Bangkok: Openbooks. Taal, B. (2014). Signals: Mysterious Objects – An introduction by programmer Bianca Taal. IFFR. https://www.iffr.com/en/iffr-2014/sections/mysterious-objects25-years-of-hubert-bals-fund/an-introduction-by-programmer-bianca-taal/ Thehakawatis. (2018). The genius of @iffr is all in the detail […] the elevator on the way up to the SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL features a sleeping #IFFR tiger […] at breakfast, you are invited to share in curator Edwin Carel’s homemade jam, artist @apichatpong_weerasethakul’s local mango & sticky rice alongside a traditional Dutch spread […] #IFFR2018 #Rotterdam #ISLAND #SleepCinemaHotel #jam #breakfast #details #12hoursinreverse #WeAreTheStoriesWeTell. [Photograph]. Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bekm1FzF4KZ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link Tophotelnews Editor. (2018, May 19). Want to know what’s here to stay? The pop-up hotel. We will tell you why. Top Hotel News. https://tophotel.news/ the-pop-up-hotel-trend-is-here-to-stay/ Trussell, J. (2018). Still regretting not buying a ticket to Rotterdam just to go to Apichatpong’s SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL, which sounds like a basically perfect event. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/jrtrussell/status/954469529937047553 Turner, M. (2018, November 9). SLEEPCINEMAHOTEL: Apichatpong curates our dreams in Rotterdam. Sight & Sound. https://www2.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/ sight-sound-magazine/comment/festivals/sleepcinemahotel-apichatpongweerasethakul-rotterdam Utterson, A. (2017). Water buffalo, catfish and monkey ghosts: The transmigratory materialities of Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 15(2), 231–249. Vitali, V. (2008). Hou Hsiao-hsien reviewed. Inter-Asia Cultural Studies, 9(2), 280–289. Wong, C. H.-Y. (2011). Film festivals: Culture, people, and power on the global screen. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press. Zuilhof, G. (2004a). Weblog S.E.A. Eyes, June 2004. IFFR. https://iffr.com/en/blog/ weblog-sea-eyes-june-2004 Zuilhof, G. (2004b). Weblog S.E.A. Eyes, July 2004. IFFR. https://iffr.com/en/blog/ weblog-sea-eyes-july-2004 Zuilhof, G. (2004c). Weblog S.E.A. Eyes, October 2004. IFFR. https://iffr.com/en/ blog/weblog-sea-eyes-october-2004 Zuilhof, G. (2004d). Weblog S.E.A. Eyes, September 2004. IFFR. https://iffr.com/ en/blog/weblog-sea-eyes-september-2004

2.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions Abstract: Contextualizing the growth of East Asian cinema in relation to film distribution networks, this chapter draws attention to paratexts generated through the course of the promotion and circulation of East Asian films in transnational markets. Focusing on sites associated with South Korean cinema from US diasporic video distributors, the UK’s multiplatform distribution, and informal circulation channels reaching out to different cultural geographies, the chapter highlights expanded notions of authorship through clusters of agents who add their own imprints as part of this paratextual circulation. The chapter discusses these aspects through a case study of South Korean film distribution and, specifically, the personal and sociocultural contexts that have worked to retain and revoke the authorial position of the late Kim Ki-duk. Keywords: film distribution, diasporic video market, distributor-driven festival, media authorship, South Korean cinema

Prior to the early 1990s, film authorship was a subject largely theorized in and through the realm of officially sanctioned cinematic arts (i.e. “film art” versus “cult film”). The context of film festivals and critical discourses discussed in the previous chapter addressed this legacy. Such a demarcation shifted in the DVD period as discourses associated with film authorship were employed to promote controversial films from East Asia, which also began to gain attention at film festivals, at a time when festivals were expanding their programming and public engagement. The growth of DVD left a lasting impact on the idea of East Asian cinema in relation to film authorship in the distribution context. One particular instance that has been the subject of interest for critics and academics is the way in which the notion of authorship associated with a sense of authority and aesthetic consistency was employed to promote directors associated with action, horror, and controversial genre

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch02

78 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

films (see, for example, Egan, 2017; Wroot, 2015). Paratexts generated in the process of film distribution facilitated by the DVD format became the focus of many studies in order to negotiate and expand the idea of transnational film authorship and contemporary East Asian cinema (see, for example, Shin, 2008; Dew, 2007; Martin, 2015). Revisiting the distribution of East Asian cinema via the DVD format, this chapter seeks to expand the landscape of film authorship to address changes in film distribution sites in the pre- and post-DVD era and revival film markets. The kind of paratexts being produced, associated agents involved, and memories shared in transmedia distribution platforms over time all allow an exploration of the ephemerality and endurance of discourses shaping film authorship, particularly for directors whose films and reputations have been tied to fluctuating commercial film markets and audiences, instead of the more consistent film festival scene and its community of critics. Drawing attention to works on media authorship that emerged in the early 2010s, this chapter also discusses multiple clusters of authorial agents, from official film importers through to those involved in the informal re-circulation of East Asian films who can be understood as co-authoring agents in different countries.

East Asian Cinema in the Home Video Market and Associations with Film Authorship in the DVD Era DVD has been a subject of interest linking film authorship to film distribution due to its capacity to assert the authority of the filmmaker, particularly through extra materials such as audio commentary and making-of videos. Brookey and Westerfelhaus (2002, p. 22) positioned DVD extras as an “auteuristic residue” allowing the filmmaker and stars to negotiate and shape the reading of a film. Movies relating to innovative storytelling such as Timecode (2000) have been discussed through their DVD paratexts, particularly via the function of voice-over commentary which allows the filmmaker to assert his/her voice and authority over the film while acknowledging the process of collective filmmaking (see Grant, 2008). This kind of paratextual analysis allows further discussion of the unique auteur positions set out in promotional discourses for certain filmmakers, such as Wes Anderson (Dorey, 2012) and Stanley Kubrick (Egan, 2015). Zoran Samardzija (2010) also extends the materials on DVD with that circulating on the director’s website in the case of David Lynch. Comparing this with other media formats, the way in which the design of the DVD has gained associations with quality

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

79

and authorship has played a vital role in this promotional auteur culture. As part of the advertising of the new DVD format, an emphasis was given to sharper visual quality and clearer sound than VHS, supposedly bringing about the authentic experience of being in the cinema (McKenna, 2017, p. 33). The notion of quality associated with film authorship also extends to quality extras/paratexts and treatments/modifications of films for audiences, such as the decision by a distributor to create subtitles for niche art cinema instead of dubbing, as it allows the viewing of a film with its original actors’ voices instead of via those added by dubbers. In relation to East Asian cinema, the notion of film authorship shaped by DVD releases of the new breed of East Asian genre films reveals the contentious notion of film authorship in relation to market associations shaped by film distributors. One notable case was in 2004 when the Grand Prix award at Cannes was given to Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy (2003), which raised attention to the “erosion of art/trash distinctions” (Hawkins, 2010, para. 5). In this case, “art” had been seen by critics in relation to film festivals while “trash” was supposedly grounded in the spectrum of wider theatrical releases and home video markets that promoted the cultish elements of films. The sentiments expressed by certain critics were that the two should not mix (see Hawkins, 2010, para. 5). While established film festivals at the time evidently expanded the notion of East Asian cinema, film distribution has been one of the active sites involved in reformulating ideas of film authorship. Following screenings at film festivals, Oldboy went on to become one of the most recurring films discussed (see, for example, Dew, 2007; Martin, 2015; Shin, 2008) as part of the strategic distribution release patterns deployed by the late Tartan Films, a specialized DVD label set up in 1984 that became an established independent film distributor in the UK market in the early 2000s. Tartan distributed East Asian films through two main labels: “Tartan Video” and “Asia Extreme.” The latter has been the main focus of attention for academics (Dew, 2007; Martin, 2015) as it reveals the visible borrowing of film authorship discourses to elevate the status of movies with transgressive content and to expand target audiences. Advertised with explicit imagery and texts drawing attention to aspects of sexuality, violence, and gore, on the one hand, these types of films have been seen in relation to Orientalist genre making where a distributor loosely groups East Asian films together (Shin, 2008). Addressing film festival associations with these films and the recognition of the filmmakers, on the other hand, authorship discourse has been discussed as a way to guarantee quality content with an appeal to cult film fans, and to open up an interest in cult films among art cinema

80 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

audiences (Dew, 2007). These combined art-cult discourses circulated in the process of film distribution by Tartan were highly influential and helped establish hybrid cult auteur statuses for filmmakers such as Takashi Miike, Park Chan-wook, and Kim Ki-duk until the dissolution of the company in 2008. As the idea of art-cult authorship has become more established in the public domain, various distributors have also expanded their collections and adopted different paratextual strategies to further reconfigure the idea of film authorship. Kate Egan (2017, pp. 69–71) has pointed out how references to local production contexts and the idea of national cinema have been used to promote both old and new East Asian cult film titles such as Nagisa Ôshima’s In the Realm of the Senses (1976) and his follow-up film Empire of Passion (1978), along with various films known through the Shochiku studio brand in the late 1960s, all of which gained the Criterion label’s retrospective DVD distribution in the early 2000s and 2010s. When compared with the strategies opted for by Tartan, Criterion moved away from those of genre framing and cultish visuality to a specific approach to film authorship associated with national cinema and the origin of the filmmaker, resonating with discourses previously employed by film festivals. In academia, the growth of East Asian cinema through film distribution contexts has opened up a wide range of research. The broader view of marketing strategies (such as promoting film events and a roadshow) and the reception of East Asian cinema associated with Tartan have been elaborated upon in detail (Martin, 2015). There has also been exploration of the media networks that contributed to the distribution of East Asian art-cult cinema such as the role of film magazines (Wroot, 2015) and other DVD labels in the UK (Wroot, 2019), as well as the role of audiences (Pett, 2014). Also resonating with the growth of film festival studies, distribution studies has grown as a sub-discipline in film and media studies. Some of the influential works here have additionally drawn attention to video piracy markets and illegal channels dubbed as “subcinema” (Lobato, 2007, p. 117), and to the crossing between formal and informal channels in contemporary film distribution landscapes (Crisp, 2015). While past studies mainly located film authorship and film distribution within the development of DVD (Brookey & Westerfelhaus, 2002; Dorey, 2012; Egan, 2015; Grant, 2008), this chapter discusses wider contexts of film distribution and the multiple agents involved, including a second-hand video seller, a DVD distributor who ran a distributor-driven festival, and fans who have uploaded films online – each with their different distribution channels promoting different types of authorial figures over time. I draw on

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

81

the notion of “cluster of authorship” (Gray, 2013, p. 102) in the next section to highlight these dispersed yet influential agents who have reworked discourses on East Asian film authorship at distribution sites.

Locating Film/Media Authorial Agents at Multiple Distribution Sites As home video distribution brings into contact the roles of importers, distributors, and audiences in different localities and periods of distribution, each with their own paratextual practices, the subject of film distribution and authorship therefore requires consideration of the wider ecology of knowledge production in different media networks, or what Jonathan Gray has referred to as specific “cluster[s] of authorship” (2013, p. 102). Existing works on the transnational distribution of East Asian films beyond the context of DVD have highlighted some of these existing clusters. Daniel Herbert’s work, for example, explores the role of video store clerks in different “specialty stores” in the US who arranged and organized films into different categories, including national cinemas and subsections listed by auteur names (2013, p. 490). The directors most often mentioned are those associated with European film festivals in the 1960s, followed by contemporary names such as Hirokazu Kore-eda and Takashi Miike. Hong Kong action films were also categorized by auteur names such as Tsui Hark and John Woo (Herbert, 2013, p. 491). When locating authorship within media culture, video store clerks could be seen as agents co-creating auteur discourses amongst other agents doing this at the same time. On this issue of agency, Jasmine Trice’s exploration of film culture in the Philippines examined the absence of formal distribution for independent films in the country despite the recognition granted to national filmmakers overseas. Traces of distribution in this case lie in the practice of “peripheral cinephilias” and audiences’ stories and experiences about obtaining pirated copies and displaying alternative cosmopolitanism rather than in the processes of official or formal market distribution and promotion (Trice, 2015, p. 12). Conversations on authorship in relation to broader views of East Asian cinema could also extend to other cultural producers and gatekeepers who have promoted certain elements of films to fit their own localized markets. In the context of South India, S.V. Srinivas (2003, p. 42) has discussed the role of sub-distributors in altering and marketing martial arts films to attract local audiences in relation to local popular literature. A study of the circulation of Hong Kong films in South Africa in the post-apartheid period

82 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

reveals the important role of black audiences that embraced martial arts practices when the distribution system created barriers to accessing action films (Van Staden, 2017, pp. 47–48). When expanding the notion of East Asian film authorship beyond the role of the filmmaker and to others having cultural authority over ideas of a particular film or of East Asian cinema as a whole, one could also consider the positioning of the filmmaker/cult film fan/former video store clerk Quentin Tarantino, previously described as an “Asiaphile” with “creative ownership” over certain films and auteurs he has endorsed (Hunt, 2008, pp. 221, 223). David Desser (2016, p. 331) has particularly discussed the role of Tarantino in shaping the reputation of Hong Kong auteur Wong Kar-wai through film festivals and specialized DVD labels. Viewed as co-authorial subjects, these influential agents reveal degrees and layers of authorship in different localities. Considering film distribution networks as sites of authorial negotiation, and the way clusters of authorship have contributed to the knowledge production surrounding a particular filmmaker, next I pay particular attention to what I’m calling paratextual remnants at various sites of distribution – this refers to what is still being circulated in the public domain after formal distribution agents have ceased their operations. In addition to the official media archives associated with stable cultural institutions (e.g. the film festivals addressed in the previous chapter), paratextual remnants acknowledge fluctuation, disappearance, and change in channels of distribution and authorial discourses over time.

Paratextual Remnants and the Ephemerality of Distribution Sites Recent writings on paratexts have highlighted the aspect of time and ephemerality in relation to digital platforms (see Pesce & Noto, 2018). In the last chapter, I referred to the aspect of time in relation to how certain paratextual materials from film festival media archives – such as a film profile – could undergo processes of revision and re-circulation as the authorial position of a filmmaker was elevated. The aspect of time also reveals changing trends and discourses in film programming at film festivals. In this chapter, the ephemerality of paratexts is instead related to the fluctuating markets of East Asian cinema, the short-lived condition of distribution companies, and changing distribution formats. Several companies associated with the transnational distribution of East Asian films, including the aforementioned Tartan as well as the Tai Seng company (to be explored later), have undergone

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

83

mergers or dissolution. This has resulted in fragmented, unstable access to paratextual materials such as VHS and DVD releases and their associated marketing materials. Due to this fluctuating condition, for filmmakers whose reputations have been closely associated with a particular company and distribution label, auteur status has to be negotiated and reworked by different brands and authorial agents, often in a changing commercial climate and via critical discourses in different geographies. I opted for the phrase paratextual remnants in this chapter particularly to highlight the way that film paratexts in relation to East Asian cinema in the commercial domain tend to be more precarious when viewed in comparison to the longevity of festival materials which I discussed in the context of archiving in the preceding chapter. For home video distribution of East Asian films specifically, the circulation of films and their paratextual materials after the dissolution of distribution companies has been driven by demand in second-hand markets, with revival releases led by fans/cinephiles. What remains in the public domain and available on digital platforms long after the relevant distribution companies existed are often remnants of materials which have been revisited, re-framed, and re-circulated by different authorial clusters. Although these paratextual remnants tell incomplete stories of film distribution, they reveal the palimpsestuousness or layers of memories about the distribution history itself and auteurist discourses plus related agents over time. The exploration of these paratextual remnants can shed light on forgotten and changing circumstances associated with a particular filmmaker or distributor along with cinephilic recollections that play a role in shaping the notion of film authorship and East Asian cinema in different countries. It is worth recalling that in certain cases longevity and a substantial archive do exist in the context of film distribution, as noted in the work of James Kendrick (2001) in relation to the Criterion Collection. Kendrick remarked on Criterion’s full awareness of its role in “providing a f ilm archive for the home viewer” (Crowdus, cited in Kendrick, 2001, p. 125) and argued that f ilm distribution plays an important role in archiving “film as culture” (Kendrick, 2001, p. 124) by providing films that “may and may not be included in the canon [of art film]” (Kendrick, 2001, p. 126). In my case study on distribution sites and paratextual remnants associated with the South Korean filmmaker Kim Ki-duk, there are conflicting discourses on what is remembered and re-circulated from the past and what should or should not be circulated now, considering the director’s highly problematic ethical conduct and the legal case that grew out of it. Aspects of time, geography, and cultural archive are therefore crucial in

84 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

addressing changing knowledge production about any given filmmaker across film communities. Below I trace some of the early discourses shaping Kim Ki-duk’s works as circulated in academic and journalistic accounts before expanding these through exploring paratextual remnants at different distribution sites in the rest of the chapter. Remarking on the ethical question of discussing this highly problematic director within the context of f ilm authorship, which often places the filmmaker in an elevated status, my work resonates with Marghitu’s (2018) position, also highlighted by Wall and Petersen in their recent study of Kim Ki-duk’s films, that “since we will not be able to banish these works,” “we should incorporate individual and systematic abuses as part of the histories of auteurist works” (Wall & Petersen, 2019, p. 172). In early critical writings, Kim Ki-duk is framed through the discourse of national cinema, which correlates with the way he entered the South Korean film industry through winning several scriptwriting awards from the Korean Film Council and the Educational Institute of Screenwriting in 1995–2004.1 Kim’s public biographies tell a story of a factory worker who was forced out of school at a young age due to family circumstances. He later entered the South Korean Marine Corps and considered becoming a priest, but he decided to travel to France where he encountered cinema for the first time while working as a street painter (cf. Chung, 2012; Kim, 2007; Rivière, 2006; Taylor-Jones, 2013). Consequently, he was given an opportunity to direct two of his scripts, Crocodile (1996) and Wild Animals (1997). The first feature, described as “reminiscent of a painting,” was screened at the Busan International Film Festival (BIFF), which was launched in 1996 (Ahn, 2012, p. 66). The festival has since stimulated the growth of film culture in the country, and it collaborated with European film festivals such as the International Film Festival Rotterdam to provide funding and development for Asian directors (Ahn, 2012, p. 103). Kim’s third feature, Birdcage Inn (1998), gained international attention through the Berlin International Film Festival’s “Panorama Programme,” along with Kim Ji-woon’s The Quiet Family (1998) in 1999. This long-running programme promoting “the pulse of contemporary international cinema” and providing a platform to discover new works, allowed Kim Ki-duk to establish strong links with the festival 1 The scriptwriting awards won by Kim Ki-duk are f irst and third prize for Jay Walking (1995) and Double Exposure (2004), respectively, from the Korean Film Council’s Screenplay Competition, and the top award for A Painter and a Criminal Condemned to Death (2003) from the Educational Institute of Screening Writing. See Paquet, n.d.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

85

(Berlinale, n.d.).2 Birdcage Inn was later circulated in the VHS market in the US through a diasporic film route and became the subject of interest among fans after the director’s success with his later films. Being amongst the most active contemporary South Korean directors, and making 15 films between 1996 and 2008, Kim Ki-duk’s works were mentioned in all of the key publications on the “new” South Korean cinema in the early 2000s (cf. Choi, 2010; Leong, 2002; Paquet, 2009; Shin & Stringer, 2005) and books that combined the discussion of Japanese and South Korean films and directors (Taylor-Jones, 2013; Totaro, 2004). Nevertheless, from early on, Kim’s films were marked by controversies, changing distributors, lack of access, and occasional revivals, which offer an alternative view on the idea of authorship beyond films appearing in the consistent canons of national and regional cinema. After making a series of low budget movies, including The Isle (2000) and Bad Guy (2001), Kim Ki-duk was associated with a generation of cultish Asian filmmakers. Despite facing controversy due to the depiction of animal cruelty and graphic content in The Isle (2000), the film was strategically distributed along with other South Korean and Japanese “extreme” movies by Tartan in the UK. In the US, First Run Features released The Isle on DVD in 2001. The film was also included in the pan-Asia “Secret Pleasures” box set in 2003.3 Another company, Life Size Entertainment, which specializes in historical movies and documentaries, released Bad Guy in 2005 as part of its Asian drama collection. Through film festival associations and promotion as a poetic filmmaker, the director became more widely known after the release of his ninth feature film, Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring (2003), which broke the box office record for South Korean movies screened in the US and was distributed by a Hollywood subsidiary, Sony Pictures Classics. 4 By the early 2000s, South Korean cinema had become well-known in the West and a number of directors had won major awards 2 In 2004, the director won the Silver Lion for Best Director at the Venice Film Festival for 3-Iron (2004) and the Silver Bear at the Berlin International Film Festival for Samaritan Girl (2004). He was also invited to screen his new f ilm, Human, Space, Time and Human, in 2018 amidst another scandal regarding his treatment of an actress. 3 The “Secret Pleasures” box set includes three other f ilms with Asian-related subjects, namely, Xiao Jiang’s Electric Shadows (2004), Chen Kuo-fu’s The Personals (1998), and Monika Treut’s Ghosted (2009). 4 Sony Pictures Classics was set up in 1992 by Michael Barker, Tom Bernard, and Marcie Bloom as an autonomous arm of Sony Pictures Entertainment with the aim to distribute and produce “independent films” from the United States and other countries. In 2000, the company co-produced and released Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) by Ang Lee, which became the highest-grossing foreign-language release in North America at the time of its initial release

86 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

at well-established film festivals. In the same year that Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy won the Grand Prize, Kim won the Silver Lion for Best Director at Venice for 3-Iron (2004) and the Silver Bear at Berlin for Samaritan Girl (2004). Once South Korean cinema and pan-Asian cult films had become widely known, with sizable audiences fostered by Tartan and associated clusters of distribution, all of Kim Ki-duk’s films between 2005 and 2008 – namely The Bow (2005), Time (2006), Breath (2007), and Dream (2008) – were released in the US and the UK markets, confirming his status as an auteur. In the US, they were distributed by various companies, i.e. Life Size Entertainment, Vanguard Cinema, Asian Media Rights, while in the UK, Tartan released all of these films. The mixed reception towards art-cult Asian films at festivals and amongst critics of East Asian cinema has raised questions about the kind of filmmaker that Kim Ki-duk is. One particular criticism that has often been cited is a comment made by Tony Rayns (2004), who published a widely debated article on Kim Ki-duk in the magazine Film Comment. Rayns briefly commended the director on his visual style in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring (2003) before criticizing his overall output as “sexual terrorism” and condemning festivals that supported his films for embracing exoticism over lesser-known works that more subtly reflected South Korean sociopolitical conditions (Chung, 2012, pp. 16–17; Martin, 2009, pp. 205–212). Nevertheless, the director’s marginal position and criticisms of his films as aesthetically and morally “bad” (Perkins & Verevis, 2014) fit with the promotion of his films as cult in the UK context of the time, whereby excessive elements are appreciated as a form of subcultural capital valued for its distinction from “mainstream” Hollywood cinema (Dew, 2007, p. 69). Tartan’s selective references to critical praise and Kim’s film festival associations in their marketing materials added a mark of distinction in that the films could be seen to transcend exotic thrills and to serve political and ethical purposes attracting art house audiences (Dew, 2007). While his later films, such as Pietà (2012), Moebius (2013), and One on One (2014), continued to gain European film festival screenings, the director’s insensitive representations of women throughout his works and his problematic ethical conduct in the process of filmmaking since 2008 have provoked condemnation from various parties, with protests also being directed towards those who support his works. Most recently, Kim’s valued position as a national auteur has been problematized or revoked by sexual (McDonald, 2009, p. 373). The film was also the first Asian-language film nominated for “Best Picture” at the Academy Awards (Klein, 2004, p. 18).

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

87

harassment allegations of three women (Noh, 2018) and the court case regarding his assault on an actress during the making of Moebius, which became global media attention as the #MeToo movement started (Brzeski, 2018). Meanwhile, groups of fans and micro-influencers in specific locations continue to provide access and paratexts in relation to Kim’s past films, and they continued to draw attention to his auteur position up until his death in 2020. With this background in mind, in the rest of this chapter I explore the paratextual remnants and fluctuating discourses surrounding Kim Ki-duk to highlight the (un)tenable position of film authorship when considering it as a commercial and critical category not only tied to the logic of market economies and diverse sets of agents in different periods and localities but also the ethos of the filmmaker, and sociopolitical circumstances within national and transnational cinema. I begin with the context of the US diasporic film market and the transition of South Korean cinema into a commercial category in the global film market, followed by an examination of paratextual remnants associated with the distributor-driven Terracotta Far East Film Festival, which shaped pan-Asian cult films and associated auteurs after the dissolution of Tartan Video. Considering the importance of informal film distribution and digital platforms in destabilizing and reworking authorial positions through transmedia paratexts, I then discuss the #MeToo movement, geographically specific cinephilia, and the multiple local and transnational circumstances that have shaped contemporary discourses on authorship beyond formal distribution sites.

The Emergence of Authorship in the Diasporic Film Market Reflecting on Kim’s career in the US prior to the screening of his 14th film, Breath (2007), in Philadelphia, Aaron Mannino, an artist/film enthusiast who raised funds for the screening of the film via Kickstarter (Mannino, 2012a), wrote a “mini-retrospective” of Kim’s works discussing the director’s US success “between 2003–2005, when Sony Pictures Classics released Spring Summer Fall Winter and Spring, and 3-Iron to arthouse cinemas and DVD” (Mannino, 2012b). Noting that these were Kim’s ninth and tenth films and that subsequently his works were not distributed in the US, Mannino expressed his appreciation to Palisades Tartan for making available many of Kim’s “post-2005 films.” Drawing attention to the director’s third movie, Birdcage Inn, followed by a list of Kim’s later films, the writer noted that this movie is “rare, but can be

88 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

found on VHS, and is an excellent example of Kim’s early craft.” Coinciding with Mannino’s account, an article in the New York Sun published after Kim’s success with Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring (2003) noted that Kim’s movies were hard to find on DVD with English subtitles, and certain works were only available in Region 3 (Taiwan, Korea, the Philippines, Indonesia, and Hong Kong). However, one could find his earlier works in video stores in the Chinatown districts of major US cities (Hendrix, 2005). Through the diasporic film market, one of the companies that released Kim’s early works is Tai Seng, known as a distributor of Hong Kong/Chinese movies and TV series in the 1990s. No longer in business today, Tai Seng grew out of a particular time in the diasporic distribution landscape. It was a Singaporean family-run business set up in 1995 to distribute Hong Kong’s TVB dramas and films in Cantonese for communities of Asian migrants in the San Francisco Bay area, and then subsequently throughout the US. As an authorized importer of East Asian content to America, the company transferred Hong Kong films from PAL format videos into the NTSC format compatible with North America’s television systems (Charles, 2009, p. 353). As an authorial agent working with pan-Asian genre films at a time when South Korean cinema was unknown as a marketing category, Tai Seng (para)textually modified Birdcage Inn to fall under the wider scope of Cantonese genre movies. This included adding subtitles and repackaging the film with the authorial imprint of Tai Seng. Examining the VHS copy I acquired through a second-hand film market (at a much higher resale price than its initial release price), Birdcage Inn was presented in this video format with the overall look and feel of a Chinese soft porn release circulating in the 1990s. The title of the film and its VHS cover were adjusted to fit this premise. Its repurposed Chinese title can be translated as “Life with Desire and Sex.” Featured on the cover is the protagonist with a towel wrapped around her body while revealing her back. She stands in a domestic setting with a painting of a naked woman on the wall (Egon Schiele’s painting of a naked girl, Schwarzhaariges Mädchen). Behind her is another female character, and both of them look into the camera. On the cover, only the names of the two female stars are listed instead of giving the director’s name or festival accolades, as would later be used to promote Kim’s films. Birdcage Inn was introduced through English and Chinese synopses on the back cover. The Korean names of the characters were replaced with names that would be more familiar to the respective target audiences; for instance, Chin-a was altered to Jane in the English version and to Zhenji in the Chinese version.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

89

These paratextual modifications fitted into Tai Seng’s pan-Asian catalogue featuring variations of martial arts movies, action, melodrama, and films with risqué content (Regelman, 1997). Amongst the films in the catalogue still available on the second-hand market online is Amazing Stories (1994), which also featured a semi-naked female body on its video front cover. The placing of Kim’s early film as part of the pan-Asian genre category, with no evidence of national cinema or festival references, certainly resonates with Hye Seung Chung and David Scott Diffrient’s observation on the limited visibility of South Korean films in the mid-1990s. Chung and Diffrient remark that Korean films available at VHS stores in the United States5 were limited to Pae Young-gyun’s Why Has Bodhi Dharma Left for the East? (1989) and Pak Chol-su’s 301/302 (1995) (2015, p. 240). As the national cinema/auteurist discourse around South Korean movies grew at film festivals and was adopted by distributors, Tai Seng shifted direction to market Kim’s subsequent film. The company distributed Real Fiction retrospectively in 2005 along with two other South Korean movies The Quiet Family (1998) and The Harmonium in My Memory (1999), in collaboration with the UK-based Prism Leisure.6 Their cross-Atlantic collaboration at this point reflected a trend that had emerged as distribution companies embraced the growing transcultural importance and commercial value of pan-Asian cinema. In the same year, Tartan also expanded to the US and released four films by the director under its generic label.7 Tai Seng opted for an auteur approach in its promotion, featuring the director’s name as the highlight of the DVD cover along with a tag line that the film was “From Korea’s most original filmmaker” who had made “The Isle, Bad Guy and 3-Iron.” The company also provided an information leaflet, “Tai Seng’s Things to Know about … Real Fiction,” which gave an introduction to the director. The film is said to be “shot without any retakes” in comparison to “real-time” movies such as Timecode (2000) directed by Mike Figgis and The Set-Up (1949) by Robert Wise. Kim is introduced as a director who uses minimal dialogue but relies on actors’ performances to convey emotion. His background as an ex-Marine, a one-time street painter in Paris, and his inspiration by American Psycho (2000) were also provided. The authorial 5 Stores mentioned by the writers are Kim’s Video and Evergreen Video in New York City’s East Village. 6 A Middlesex-based distributor known for low-budget B-movies. See more at Hong Kong Cinema, 2008. 7 Through its US branch, Tartan released three of Kim’s f ilms: The Coast Guard (2002), Samaritan Girl (2004), and The Bow (2005). These were followed by the retrospective release of Address Unknown in 2006.

90 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

framing is vastly different from Birdcage Inn, which had no visible paratextual trace of the filmmaker, except when the video re-circulates in the second-hand film market. Despite entering the DVD market and adopting auteurist discourse in promotional paratexts, Tai Seng’s DVD, as sold through an Amazon vendor, was commented on for its poor-quality subtitles. A reviewer, “Mark It Zoro,” compared the release to those of Kim’s other films with the remark that “someone else, Tartan perhaps? please, pick this up and rerelease it” (Amazon.com, n.d.-b). The expectations associated with the DVD format here further highlight the way in which film authorship has been shaped by the authorial imprint of a particular type of distribution company and a particular treatment of the film’s paratexts. The DVD of Real Fiction costs around US$2 to US$6 in comparison to the ten times more expensive video of Birdcage Inn, which has been given added value due to its rarity. As the emergence of DVD markets and online platforms coincided with a downturn in Cantonese/Hong Kong cinema, Tai Seng adjusted its company’s strategy in various ways, including funding a film project in 2004 (Armstrong, 2004) and providing downloading services (Northampton, 2008), along with entering the video-streaming platform sector with Trimark Pictures in 1999 and with Crunchyroll in 2010 (Schilling, 2010). The company gradually faded and ended its operations around 2013. Nevertheless, its mediated authorial agency is remembered amongst earlier groups of Hong Kong film fans prior to the next generation of South Korean and pan-Asian cult movies. Various books which have reviewed and catalogued Hong Kong and Asian action and cult films have made references to films distributed by Tai Seng (Charles, 2009; Thomas, 2003). The company’s logos and idents are also shared on YouTube, accompanying conversations on the end of the business and the potential increase in prices of the movies in their catalogue (Supervastguru, 2009). This points to the correlation between successful authorial promotion and fan interest/cataloguing when there is a recognizable corresponding brand mediating between associated parties and supplying consistent paratextual materials.

The Distributor-Driven Film Festival and Added-Value Materials From 2008 onwards, DVD sales began to significantly drop and the closure of distribution companies followed, including the key players such as Tartan and Fortissimo Films, known for promoting East Asian cinema in Europe. After a few years of apparent silence, in 2011 Kim Ki-duk gained public

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

91

attention again as he emerged in the media with a vastly different persona during the screening of Arirang (2011) at the Cannes Film Festival. This new film was produced, directed by, and solely starred Kim, depicting his own self-exile. The movie features the director expressing his emotional breakdown after an incident with his previous film, Dream (2008), when the main actress nearly lost her life while acting in a suicide scene. Another conflict told through the new film was the story of Kim’s assistant director moving on to make his own movie (for more on performative authorship and self-confession, see Chapter 5). As Kim’s usual distributor Tartan Video folded its business in 2008, Kim’s Arirang and a number of later works have instead been endorsed and circulated by a new set of distributors, one of which is the UK-based Terracotta Entertainment, which also provided a retrospective release of Kim’s first feature. Terracotta Entertainment emerged in 2008 to become one of the distributors releasing Kim’s films in the post-Tartan period. Despite the ambivalent status of the filmmaker, known as an art-cult auteur by critics and AngloEuropean fans by this point, the company repositioned him as a “master” and an established star-auteur by releasing Kim’s new film, Arirang, in a box set with his first feature, Crocodile. The front cover of the DVD presented the name of the director in gold, reading “Kim Ki-duk Double Bill,” and this was followed by the title of the films. Kim was described as the director of 3-Iron and Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring, two established award-winning films that set him apart from the “Asia Extreme” type of labelling. Affirming the director’s respectable auteur reputation, the cover featured the Cannes Film Festival logo with reference to Kim’s recognition through the “Un Certain Regard” award. At the bottom of the DVD, there was also a quote from The Guardian, describing Kim as “A very original film-maker” along with four stars being given to Arirang. To further spell out Kim’s auteur status the back cover of the DVD noted that “Arirang is the ultimate work of auteurist cinema,” quoting from Empire magazine. Inside the DVD box set, there are images of Kim’s abstract paintings and a picture of his cottage on a hill, as featured in Arirang. The synopsis notes that the film is “the director’s long anticipated documentary about his self-imposed exile following the near death of one of his actresses during a suicide scene that went badly wrong.” Alongside the synopsis is an image of Kim’s deteriorating body represented through his cracked heels and a pair of old sandals shot from a low angle. Crocodile was described “as a study of violence in South Korean society” through the story of “a violent thug” who “robs death [sic] bodies of suicide victims.” These authorial framings resonate with the past contextualization of film authorship through the

92 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

idea of national cinema, a film’s sociocultural context, and the director’s place of origin. As Terracotta continued on with Kim’s f ilms and released Moebius, it adopted a talking-heads approach to marketing this as an auteur film and promoted his work at its own branded event, titled the Terracotta Far East Film Festival. This somewhat unusual distributor-driven festival was started by the Terracotta Group with the corporate aim to “bring quality and entertaining Far East films to the UK” (Terracotta Far East Film Festival, n.d.-a). The position of the festival, as reviewed by the press and cited by the festival website, reflected a combined programming of new auteur-driven films leading audience taste cultures beyond “the cliché of Asian horror” (Electric Sheep Magazine), alongside “the region’s specialties: kung fu epics, gangster thrills, anime, teen craziness, Horror and, er patisserie related sexual politics” (The Guardian) (Terracotta Far East Film Festival, n.d.-b). This kind of curation reflected Stuart Richards and Lauren Carroll Harris’s key point that distributor-driven festivals “challenge preconceptions of what a film festival does” through curation (2020, p. 2). The case of Australiabased Palace Cinemas discussed in their work, and the case of Terracotta, reveal the role of curation as explored by Roya Rastegar to “shape notions of quality while also being able to ‘challenge dichotomous valuations of films as either art or commerce, and to facilitate ways of looking that allow for difference rather than enforce nationalistic models of homogeneity’” (Rastegar, 2012, cited in Richards & Harris, 2020, p. 2). While Palace Cinemas did not focus on a specific aspect of “diasporas, identity-based communities or affinity-based groupings” (Richards & Harris, 2020, p. 3), this aspect is at the heart of Terracotta’s branding through its Far East focus. Furthermore, the positioning of the Terracotta Far East Film Festival through its paratexts reveals it as a hybrid of the cinephilic/fannish festival and a celebrity-driven industry event. This combination differs from strategy followed by Palace Cinemas, whose distribution arm, Palace Films, worked with its own art house cinemas to create “corporate events adhering to standard distribution/ exhibition paradigms, rather than ephemeral events that take over cinemas” (Richards & Harris, 2020, p. 5). Hence, in the case of Palace Cinemas, there is limited festivity, “fewer or no directors and actors flown out to attend screenings, Q&As and associated events; very few curated panel discussions; and consequently, fewer peripheral paratextual and contextual material offered at the events” (Richards & Harris, 2020, p. 5). Richards and Harris drew on the work of Mark Peranson, which categorizes film festivals into two main models: “audience festivals or business festivals” (Richards & Harris, 2020, p. 1). While Palace’s film festival seemed closer to

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

93

a corporate position, the Terracotta Far East Film Festival incorporated both audience and business models. Highlighting the importance of film fans, the brochure of the sixth festival in 2014 specifically addresses two groups: “action fans” and “horror aficionados,” who would be presented with selected films, including movies curated for the “Terror Cotta Horror All-Nighter” programme (Leung, 2014, p. 3). Selected titles introduced as part of the highlights included Kim’s Moebius (described as “bold and controversial”) along with Killers (“an Indonesian-Japanese co-production”), a 2014 action horror film directed by Indonesian directing duo The Mo Brothers (Leung, 2014, p. 3). For this edition, the festival had sponsorship from various businesses and cultural organizations, including KLM Royal Dutch Airlines, the Mayfair Hotel, and the Japan Foundation, which coincided with the festival’s programme in terms of welcoming “guest directors, producers and actors from Asia” (Leung, 2014, p. 3). Combining audience and business together, for its 2013 edition, the festival also organized the Terracotta Short Film Competition under the theme “Asia in London” with the prize of a funded return trip for two to Hong Kong, sponsored by Cathay Pacific, Mira Hotel Hong Kong, and the Hong Kong Tourism Board. Marcos Villaseñor and Carlotta Cardana, whose short film Phone Box (2013) won the prize, described the award as a way to give exposure to their film to “hundreds of Asian film fans at the Prince Charles” (Terracotta Far East Film Festival, 2013, para. 5). Villaseñor was also quoted in the blog published by the festival as saying that “[a]ny filmmaker with a love for the East would miss out by not entering a short or following’s Terracotta’s programme featuring the best of Asian cinema” (Terracotta Far East Film Festival, 2013, para. 5). With paratexts being created to extend and affirm the brand of the distributor and their collaborative agents, the notion of authorship associated with the filmmaker is drawn on to link the film festival event to film distribution strategy. Materials created during the event such as the recording of Q&As are later edited and included as part of DVD releases or used on social media sites. The 2012 edition of the festival featured Arirang (2011) along with Crocodile, which were later released through Terracotta Distribution as a box set. In 2014, Kim was also invited to the screening of Moebius. Although the director could not attend the festival in London in person, he created a paratextual video addressing f ilm festival fans which was subsequently included on the DVD. In the video, Kim sits on a carved wooden chair in a living room with floral-patterned wallpaper in the background. The director appears in a casual outfit with a plain blue, long-sleeved T-shirt. His long grey hair is tied back in a topknot bun. The

94 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

home-movie set up projects a sense of intimacy between the director and festival audiences. Kim begins by introducing himself as a Korean film director and apologizing for not being able to accept the “precious invitation” to the festival as he had been in the process of shooting his next film, One on One. The director proceeded to highlight a moral justification for the extreme content in Moebius. He emphasized that the potentially “painful” experience has a message behind it, and that the intended meaning does not specifically relate to South Korean social conditions but is about (supposedly universalized) human desires in general. Throughout the video, Kim was able to distance himself from criticisms made of his films and highlighted an authorial intention to explore humanity instead of presenting violence and perversity for its own sake. In addition to the introduction video, Terracotta included an interview with Seo Young-ju, a lead actor in Moebius, as a DVD paratext. The Q&A session (taken from the Terracotta Far East Festival 2014) was constructed around Seo’s impression of working with the then well-known filmmaker. The actor gave a favourable account of Kim Ki-duk, describing him as the originator of the story, the person behind the casting of actors, and an acting guide. When asked about Kim’s films, Seo noted that he had not seen many of the director’s works due to being underage, although he had known of Kim as the winner of the Golden Lion film award for Pietà. Through these added special features, Kim’s star-auteur status is endorsed while an actor/ star figure is introduced to festival audiences, as he was previously known through Juvenile Offender (2012), which had limited exposure in the UK. Discussing various dimensions of contemporary art, cult, and avant-garde cinema that share an underlying frame of reference, David Andrews has pointed to the hierarchical coexistence of stardom and authorship discourses whereby the actors/stars associated with art cinema often work to support and not overtake the authorial/star status of the filmmaker (2013, p. 166). In turn, the actors/stars acquire a niche position allowing them to win more controversial and daring roles while being evaluated within artistic expressions. In Andrews’s work, the positioning of a star-auteur as the leading brand name linked to their films tends to be recognized through the idea of a “familiar style or philosophical approach” which bridges the knowledge and taste culture of cinephiles and institutional and industrial networks of the art world (Andrews, 2013, p. 166). With certain filmmakers, this authorial position is formulated and staged by the filmmaker’s own paratexts which function to heighten his/her status as this has already been shaped by other paratextual information surrounding the promotion of their films.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

95

Compared with the earlier distribution landscape in which Kim Ki-duk’s films and auteur position were promoted, Terracotta’s paratexts reveal a reconfiguration of the idea of film authorship moving much closer to the canon of festival films and sociocultural reflections. Nevertheless, this framing has not been sustainable in changing market conditions. The Terracotta Far East Film Festival, which operated for six years from 2009 to 2014, took a break in 2015. Then in March 2018, Terracotta and Third Window Films partnered with Arrow Films8 to co-distribute movies. Established in 1991 and operating in the UK, Ireland, the US, and Canada, Arrow Films also underwent changes in 2018 as two key executives departed from the company. As the fluctuation in specialized distributors of East Asian cinema has continued, Kim Ki-duk’s authorial agency has become increasingly untenable, having been left in disarray after the #MeToo movement, save for an interest in subcinema channels by certain groups of fans, and occasional revisits to his earlier films as part of wider discussions on South Korean cinema history.

#MeToo: Destabilizing Authorship through Online Paratexts Alongside visibility through specific distribution processes, commercial discourses surrounding a director exist hand in hand with wider reception contexts. The transnational recognition of Kim Ki-duk shaped by transgressive East Asian cinema framing and cult film communities, by Tartan and later by Terracotta, have existed alongside other discourses since the early 2000s. In South Korea the film Bad Guy raised critical debates on gender representation in Korean film magazines, as explored by Chung (2012, p. 16). Outside South Korea, Chung also mentioned the article by Tony Rayns in Film Comment in 2004 which called out the “‘duped’ champions (film-festival jurors and sympathetic critics)” of Kim’s work (2012, p. 17). While these critiques did not impact the niche market sector and fans in the US and the UK, Kim’s auteurist position has been condemned in the light of cases of sexual assault that emerged as part of the #MeToo movement globally. This reveals a growing discourse surrounding directors’ ethics and ethos, something which has come to shape auteur culture from around 2016, as well as intensifying in 2018. In the South Korean context, the #MeToo phenomenon has been discussed in works such as Jinsook Kim’s (2018) timely article tracing social media 8 Arrow Films specializes in cult movies, the type of film which many East Asian genre titles in the 1990s–2000s have come to be associated with (Macnab, 2018).

96 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

movements in South Korea following the Harvey Weinstein scandal and #MeToo movement in the United States. The situation in South Korea emerged through social media with the hashtag #000_nae_seongpongnyeok (#sexual_violence_in_000) which was trending on Twitter in 2016 (Kim, 2018, p. 505). The related hashtags that followed included #yeonghwagye_nae_ seongpongnyeok (#sexual_violence_in_the_ film_industry), which revealed cases of sexual assault against women, particularly “the treatment of female staff and actors” (Kim, 2018, p. 506). Among the individuals named in stories that emerged in the media in 2017 was Kim Ki-duk, who was “accused of assaulting a female actor on the set and forcing her into an unscripted sex scene” (2018, p. 506). The director was quoted as justifying the intention “to stimulate the actress’s emotions” and “to make the film more realistic” (Jin, 2017, cited by Kim, 2018, p. 506). This was compared to Weinstein’s case where he pressured Salma Hayek on the set of Frida (Kim, 2018, p. 506). When reflecting on the above pattern of respond in relation to works on #MeToo, the justif ication of the assault as part of a creative process of f ilmmaking f its with what Stefania Marghitu referred to as “auteur apologism” (2018, p. 493) or the way in which the conversation on the abuse was being shifted to the process of making something of value. This therefore gives more weigh and credibility to the penetrator than the victim. Karen Boyle has also discussed this aspect as part of the wider practice of not recognizing the abuse by making it as “artistic temperament or standard business practice” (2018, p. 13). This kind of justification has less cultural value in the case of Kim Ki-duk during the #MeToo movement as the scale of the abuse has escalated. The novelty given to cult East Asian auteurs had also been in decline for some time, leading to a wider degree of condemnation. This section draws attention to the aftermath of #MeToo in which the discourse on the ethos of the director and those of film critics, academics, and fans has been drawn on to re-evaluate Kim’s status. While the mentioning of Kim as an auteur has been highly problematic since 2018, within the public domain the abuses became widely discussed during the news of his death in 2020. Below I explore clusters of debates on Twitter generated by film professionals, which centre on the recognition of the problem for some time and the question on film canon shared by feminist academics (Boyle, 2019, p. 77; see also Harrison, 2018). Another thread by film fans on Reddit also points to a different but related question on film memories and ethical consumption. On Twitter, well-known supporter of South Korean cinema Darcy Paquet (2020a) published his view upon the news of the director’s death:

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

97

I stopped teaching Kim Ki-duk’s films in my classes in 2018 when the program about his sexual assaults screened on Korean TV. If someone does such awful violence to people in real life, it’s just wrong to celebrate him. I don’t care if he’s a genius (and I don’t think he was). (Paquet, 2020a)

Paquet (2020b) provided more information about the case, citing the press coverage by Screen Daily titled “Kim Ki-duk, Cho Jae-hyun Accused of Multiple Sexual Assaults in TV Exposé” before adding that “there are other rape accusations beyond this one.” And “[g]iven what I’ve heard from people in the industry, I personally feel no doubt that they are true.” Another respondent also added to the conversation with the press coverage by Agence France-Presse under the title “Kim Ki-duk: Controversial Master of Cinematic Violence” (K20132019, 2020). A different thread connected to Paquet’s tweet engaged in a conversation about the possibility of teaching the films of the controversial director without celebrating him. Isadora Campregher Paiva (2020) remarked that “I don’t necessarily have a problem with his films being taught in class, as long as the students are made aware of the accusations and there are assigned readings thematizing the issue of his sexual violence against women both in real life and in his films.” Álvaro T. (2020) added, on the multiple authorship associated with the works, that “[i]t wouldn’t be fair to consider the movies ‘his’[,] overlooking the work of the film crew behind them so I think it’s possible not celebrating him and telling his wrongs without ‘banning’ the movies, [having] said that, I’ve always perceived his figure was overrated in foreign festivals.” Álvaro T.’s viewpoint towards the director as being overrated is also shared by several other responses, some of which also noted the frustration with critics and fans for championing Kim’s works (Kim, 2020; Leona5, 2020). These conversations reveal the process of taking back the cultural value associated with the director and practices around canonizing film authorship, including screening and teaching the works of problematic directors. Within the context of feminist media studies, scholars further highlight the underlying system that sustains authorial position of many sexual abusers. Rebecca Harrison’s (2018) manifesto “Fuck the Canon (or, How Do You Solve a Problem Like von Trier?): Teaching, Screening and Writing about Cinema in the Age of #MeToo” directly addresses the continuous support to abusive men by going to see their films or teaching their works, while acknowledging and consuming the stories of their abuses. Harrison proposes a “a mandatory film and television history course that only screen[s] film and TV by women” (2018, para. 18). This approach resonates with other feminist writers who

98 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

have productively expanded the discourse on film authorship to women agencies (see, for example, Grant, 2001; White, 2015; Badley et al., 2016). Patricia White’s work further highlights the de-territorialization aspect of women’s cinema, which is particularly useful in addressing the global solidarity and problematizing the previously nationalized and regionalized characteristics of male-driven film authorship that often placed female directors at the “back seat” (2015, p. 6). As the above Twitter responses also reveal differing views, including those that proposed teaching Kim’s films with the inclusion of the systematic problem of abuse and collective authorship in the process of filmmaking, these “tensions” could be discussed in relation to the wider issue around the “in/visibility” of abusive men (Boyle, 2019, p. 11). In the case of those with media visibility around #MeToo, Karen Boyle discussed the importance of considering the function of their names in “the public imaginary” (2019, p. 11) as well as the balance giving to the collective of women and pointing out “the structural nature of men’s violence against women and the responsibility of individual men in view” (2019, p. 12). Beyond the moments of calling out, post-#MeToo film authorship therefore has many more areas to take into account. The final part of this chapter explores collective efforts in distributing and creating paratexts on female directors and challenging national film historiography. In the rest of this section, however, I’d like to highlight the context of the public domain and the process of self-reflection amongst fans, which reveals conflicting responses related to Kim’s association with their own discovery of alternative/world cinema. In December 2020, as news of the passing of the director came out, an article published in Latvian was shared on the Reddit group “r/movies” under the title “Korean Director Kim Ki-duk Has Died from COVID” (U/ zuff, 2020). The group was created in 2008 with 24.9 million members as of March 2021. The article gained over 700 comments, which engaged with memories of Kim’s works and the sexual allegations which had complicated the legitimacy of framing Kim as a valued auteur amongst fans. Illustrating the mixed responses, the most upvoted comment was by BelgianBond (2020), discussing the “rollercoaster” feeling of “racing through it [the article] to confirm if this was the visionary filmmaker who made Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring,” before her “sympathies went into a tailspin when the report finished on a reminder that he was found guilty of assaulting an actor.” One particular user who had not seen Kim’s works before encountering this conversation also addressed the mixed sentiments and conflicting messages on the subreddit: “[h]alf the comments here are about how great his films are and that anyone who hasn’t seen them should check them out and the

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

99

other half is about how awful he is as a human being and we should totally cancel him” (A-Dumb-Ass, 2020). Individual responses from film fans further reveal the difficulty in rejecting the memories of Kim’s films completely as they have been part of the early introduction into South Korean cinema or world cinema. Personal reflections on fans’ encounters with Kim’s films are also intertwined with memories of a specific place and time with fond memories, such as a discussion on renting Kim’s films from the movie store (Sev1nk, 2020), the time in the early 2000s when overseas films were available via cable TV and Netflix DVD rental (RipMortan88, 2020), and how Kim’s work has encouraged their explorations of world cinema (Shaneo632, 2020). A number of audiences also linked Kim to their early interest in South Korean cinema. For example, Xxdismalfirexx (2020) reflected that “[t]he South Korean New Wave has done so much to enliven cinema worldwide, and Kim Ki-duk was one of the movement’s most distinguished creative forces.” These responses further open up the way film authorship in relation to East Asian cinema has been intertwined with the value in relation to one’s own sense of discovery of marginalized directors and alternative non-hegemonic cinema. Hence, there is a larger system of distribution and knowledge production associated with East Asian and world cinema tied to personal life stories that makes it hard to completely reject them. As it is difficult to take pleasure without feeling complicit with the auteur/ perpetrator, fans resort to separating the time before and after finding out about the abuse accusations in order to reconcile with their conflicted feelings. This separation is not easy for those who still “love” a certain movie of the director, as in the case of the following response: I honestly loved 3-Iron. I watched [it] back in 2005, though, before anyone revealed anything awful about him. I still love that movie, it’s one of my favorite movies ever, but it would feel creepy to watch Moebius now, for example. All of this [is] to say that I don’t even know [how to react]. (Godspeed_guys, 2020)

While many of the responses on the Reddit thread did not discuss the actual abuse and the impact on the victims,9 they reveal how authorship, has been 9 As a result of actresses coming out to reveal their experiences, Jinsook Kim has written about the formation of Shooting Femi, a collective of female filmmakers whose members “joined a taskforce supporting the victim of the director Kim and held a press conference on August 8, 2017, in coordination with such feminist organizations as Korean Womenlink and Korea Sexual

100 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

caught up with other discourses on knowledge production and accessibility to alternative cinema. Despite conflicting and varying responses, what these comments also collectively reveal is a process of self-reflection on the ethos of the self as a film professional, a fan, and an audience member, in relation to the changing ethos of the filmmaker. Kristina Busse (2013) has offered a useful reflection on this aspect of authorship in contemporary media culture. Busse reflected on film/media authorship in relation to the issue of inclusivity, which led to the decline of the traditional sense of the term in the 1970s. The figure of the author/ auteur, however, is still meaningful, as Busse has argued, particularly when focusing on how “authorial identity gives the writing an ethical impetus, a moral authorial character” (2013, p. 55). Ethos is concerned with knowing about the author’s identity, which includes the background of the individual creator in terms of class, race, or gender and “who they are” as well as “the choices they make, the collection of their writings and utterances and their overall character” (2013, p. 55). The case of Kim Ki-duk reveals the fluctuating of views on the authorial identity of the director from the early days in which he was placed in relation to a marginalized national/regional cinema in the global film distribution circuit. His association with the discourse of cult cinema also over-shadowed criticisms and concerns over his behaviour. However, with the news of his death coming out after the global #MeToo movement and the wider condemnation of the director in the public domain, those involved in supporting the director therefore have to reconsider their positions based on the new information on the director. As James J. Brown Jr. notes, the notion of ethos does not suggest a stable origin but rather “discussion of a continuous process of becoming author, becoming speaker, becoming writer” (Brown, 2009, cited in Busse, 2013, p. 60) – which also implies the possibility of unbecoming. Interestingly, for audiences on Reddit who have positioned themselves as Korean or as those familiar with the film industry, they share the same sentiment with critics that the problem has existed for some time. On the same Reddit thread mentioned above, A_seoulite_man (2020) offers a reflective comment, as a “South Korean and a movie fan” that “[c]inephiles have always enthusiastically supported and loved his films, but he has always been criticized by female audiences. He has been a subject of criticism in South Korea like Roman Polanski a few years ago” (A_seoulite_man, 2020). This kind of situation, as also discussed by Karen Boyle (2019, p. 78) in the Violence Relief Center” (2018, p. 507). Nevertheless, the above was not mentioned by participants in the English-language public domain discussed in this chapter.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

101

context of Jimmy Saville, further highlights the problem within the larger industry and societal structure that controversies can circulate for some time without effecting the career of the abuser. Nevertheless, with the larger discursive shift on film authorship in the post-#MeToo era, Kim’s authorial position associated with the marketing and reception discourse on South Korean and cult East Asian cinema has become increasingly untenable in the Anglo-European context. To further complicate this kind of global systematic change, the next section explores spaces at the margin of the global film industry by examining localized discourses on film authorship in India and subcinema platforms, which reveal how audiences redefine the function of the director based on their own circumstances. This resulted in persistent interests in Kim’s works despite the decline of East Asian cult authorship and the local and global awareness of his abuses before and after the wake of the #MeToo movement.

Substituted Film Distribution and Persistent Fan Paratexts Drawing attention to the persistence of the idea of authorship associated with a highly controversial director through cinephile paratexts, this section is contextualized within spaces of “informal distribution” (Lobato, 2012, p. 4). This kind of distribution is distinct from formal/official film distribution companies in terms of “the degree to which industries are regulated, measured, and governed by state and corporate institutions” (2012, p. 4). Such informality also extends to the production of discourses that may draw on but also deviate from formal industrial contexts. When exploring the informal spaces of film distribution, the authorial position of the filmmaker can reveal how the localized reception of films affirms or creates conflict with wider discourses regulating the reception of cinema in the global film market. Lobato asserted that “far from being a marginal force at the edges of film culture, [informal distribution] is actually the key driver of distribution on a global scale” (2012, p. 4). As of 2020, the majority of Kim’s early films have been made available by various agents on YouTube along with trailers, interviews, and festival reports. A full video of Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring with English and Spanish subtitles was uploaded on YouTube in 2016 and had over 140,000 views by 2020 and over 270,000 views by early 2021 (Gonzaga, 2016). Remarking on the importance of diverse subtitles, another user provided a Full HD link of the same film uploaded in 2020 with English subtitles and 14 different languages (Vietnamese, Chinese, French, Dutch,

102 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Indonesian, Italian, Malayalam, Thai, Spanish, German, Greek, Albanian, Arabic and Turkish) (48adidaphat, 2020).10 These videos were appreciated by viewers who left comments to thank the uploader for making the content available. One user posted to the video uploaded by Gonzaga in 2016 to express his/her appreciation for the person who uploaded the video, as the film was not available to buy in Australia where s/he was based and YouTube was the only site where they could view the film (Lochlann Thomson, in Gonzaga, 2016). Other users responded to the same video by mentioning the occasion on which they had watched/revisited the work, such as after the Oscar win of the South Korean film Parasite (Mildon Lachica, in Gonzaga, 2016) or on the religious day of Buddha Purnima (which commemorates the birth, enlightenment, and death of Buddha) (Akash S., in Gonzaga, 2016). Comments on the film can be found in English, Vietnamese, Spanish, Tamil, and Turkish, amongst others. Within this alternative channel of circulation, discourses shaping the film’s reception are expanded from those set out by critics of East Asian or South Korean cinema in the global film market, bringing in the spatial and temporal framings associated with audiences’ viewing contexts. Very few comments on Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring (6 out of 254) drew attention to the sexual allegation associated with the director or the sexual consent on screen and animal cruelty debates associated with the film (see Gonzaga, 2016). A large cluster of comments engaged in discussion on the symbolic meanings behind the film, including certain characters, themes, and the subject of Buddhism. This coincided with a paratext framing the film provided by a micro-influencer along with the link to watch the movie on YouTube. Numerous users remarked that they found the link to Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring via this recommendation by Lallantop, one of India’s largest online news services with subscribers reaching 10 million in 2019 (India Today, 2022). The channel has a podcast series “Cine Vela” or “Cinema Time,” discussing films under the themes of “world cinema, auteurs, classics, filmmaking…,” led by the channel’s cinema editor, Gajendra Singh Bhati. In episode 28 of the Matinee Show, published in October 2020, the editor talks about Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring as “[a] film that talks about life, its meaning, Buddhism, human mistakes, greed, repentance, nature, children, upbringing, death, spirituality, humanity, positivity and much more” (Lallantop, 2020). The channel provided a link to watch the full film on YouTube. Through this editor’s framing, the film received an additional paratext that portrayed it in a positive light, creating 10 As of January 2023 this video is no longer available due to a copyright claim.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

103

further social life for the film beyond the networks and discourses of formal distribution. Kim’s other movies can also be found on YouTube, including 3-Iron, which had over 337,000 views in 2021 (Kumar, 2018), The Bow with a Vietnamese introduction shared in 2017 (Kênh Tổng Hợp Chanel, 2017), and Samaritan Girl with a Spanish introduction uploaded in 2014 with over 154,000 views (Patito_G22, 2014), to name but a few. Similar to the responses left in relation to Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring, uploaders and users commented on degrees of (in)accessibility due to copyright restrictions, including the possibility of uploading films without subtitles when versions with subtitles had been reported, or the difficulty of accessing films through other means while displaying appreciation for those who had provided them on YouTube. A self-reflective remark is provided on the personal connection between one uploader and the film 3-Iron, as they had originally found it “on some international channel” after school and “loved it soo much” that it is still their favourite movie (Kumar, 2018). Sanchana Grandmaison added that “this movie was once played on tv and [he] loved it [and has been] looking for it for a long time.” Apart from the cluster of Indian audiences, a series of comments for 3-Iron posted around 2020 are in Indonesian, giving additional information that the Indonesian-based Instagram channel Potonganfilm has recommended the film, leading to its increased number of Indonesian fans. While the Lallantop podcast framed Kim’s Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring through the spatial lens of contemplative and meditative reflection for audiences interested in spirituality in cinema, Potonganfilm (2020) reviewed 3-Iron along with the Korean series The World of the Married (2020), which explores the subject of infidelity. Paratextual endorsement by this local media influencer led to some people’s viewing experience of 3-Iron being framed by a specific thematic focus. The discourse on Kim Ki-duk found in these informal distribution contexts partly continues the auteurist framing set up previously by formal distributors. Nevertheless, the appreciation of individual films is no longer shaped by the transgressive/cultish discourse but instead by context-specific discourses that link film authorship to reception circumstances. Conversations on these films beyond the ones framed by micro-influencers also reveal the diverse cultural interests of audiences. For example, Eli Naydenova commented that Spring, Sumer, Fall, Winter … and Spring is “[o]ne of my favorite movies, I almost know it by heart […] and you can find a new insight every time” (Naydenova, in Gonzaga, 2016). Naydenova connects the film to “similar movies” with a focus on expansive natural landscapes, the subject

104 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

of faith and karma, and the idea of travel and journey, namely Valley of Flowers (2006) and Travelers and Magicians (2003). The former has been described as “a mesmerizing Himalayan epic” (Naydenova, in Gonzaga, 2016) focusing on a thief and a woman, while the latter is a Bhutanese film inspired by a Buddhist fable. In these spatio-temporally specific viewings, the concerns with offensive content and sexism associated with the director’s reputation seldom appear, as the comments tend to be dominated by fans who offer insights and exchanges on different interpretations of various parts of the movies. Lambok Veroniko, among others, drew attention to the Arabic soundtrack featured in 3-Iron (Veroniko, in Kumar, 2018). In these instances, the reputation of the filmmaker is caught between remnants of formal distribution paratexts and geographically specific paratexts created in informal sites. Without official regulating industrial paratexts, each cluster of agents selects their own platforms to reflect on their experiences with the films. Beyond YouTube, another site where many of Kim’s films have been made available is the Internet Archive.11 Several copies of his works with Spanish subtitles can be found, resonating with the large Spanish contingent of fans on YouTube. From a legal viewpoint, the presence of these films is not legitimate as it breaches the copyright law that protects the distribution license holders of the films in respective countries. Yet, from a (sub) cultural viewpoint, this informal distribution, as an alternative archive, has a significant role in recording the social life of the films and filmmaker. For the study of contemporary authorship, this informal distribution context reveals complex relations of agents shaping auteur culture in different geographies and temporalities, and also by drawing on selected paratextual remnants – i.e. Kim’s older status as a consecrated auteur rather than his discredited and damaged reputation since 2008 and post-#MeToo. Apart from this auteur culture maintained through informal film distribution and internet archiving, film authorship has also been sustained through the desire to gain access to the films fostered by niche groups of supporters/ cinephiles at the very periphery of internet culture. This is particularly evident in the short film Dear Kim (2009), directed by Binukumar PP, which portrays the struggle to obtain Kim Ki-duk’s films in the Indian state of Kerala. The 30-minute short film tells a story of a group of agricultural 11 Set up in 1996, the platform offers free internet access to films, books, and other audiovisual content. With a mission to “provide universal access to all knowledge,” the site allows any user with an account to upload to the archive; content is then catalogued into the collection (Internet Archive, n.d.).

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

105

workers who are Kim’s fans in a rural village on a hill a long distance away from the city where the Kerala International Film Festival is to be held, showing a retrospective of Kim’s works. Although it is a fictional story, the circumstances reflect an actual festival event when Kim Ki-duk attended the Kerala film festival during a retrospective screening of his works in 2005. The three friends who are portrayed as avid fans of cinema enjoy learning about Kim’s films from columns written in local magazines. When a series of misfortunes prevents them from attending the festival, these fans rely on their hope of obtaining bootleg copies from a friend who went to the city. The only film by Kim Ki-duk that the friend manages to bring back is Wild Animals. As they gather together friends and families to watch the movie, the CD turns out to be pornography falsely sold as a Kim Ki-duk film on the cover, causing awkwardness and disappointment. Reflecting on the screening of Dear Kim at the Korean Cultural Centre in Delhi after a talk on “Korean cinema and the Malayalam new wave” in 2013, Shahina KK provided further insights into the local contexts shaping such auteur culture. Following the film society movement in Kerala which started in the 1970s and 1980s, local Malayalam-language literary magazines played a key role in fostering knowledge of classic and contemporary auteur films. Shahina KK remarks that “[y]ou can find Kim Ki Duk fans in Kerala who have not even watched his movies” (2013, para. 3), as his name was mentioned in the magazines and subsequently became the talk of the town following the 2005 retrospective of his works. Responding to the Korean Cultural Centre director’s surprise that Kim’s films had gained so much attention in India since they are “thought to be very violent in Korea and we have other art cinema directors too” (2013, para. 7), Shahina KK mentioned “the quest for parallel modernities” (2013, para. 8) and the various contradictions in India which had contributed to an interest in Kim’s movies. These included “the spiritual and materialist, the moral and amoral, the city and the rural” (2013, para. 8) in Kim’s films, all of which Indian fans are said to be able to relate to. Contradictory modernities can also be found in the final part of the short film Dear Kim, when the three fans come up with the idea to send an email to Kim Ki-duk. Initially written on a piece of paper in Malayalam, the letter details the fans’ life stories, their attempt to visit the film festival, and their subsequent failure to acquire even a single film. They ask if Kim Ki-duk could send them some DVDs of his works. Once this has been translated into English by a friend, they then ask for help at an internet café in order to send their letter to the director. Without Kim Ki-duk’s email address, but with a determination to get the email sent, the café owner charges the three f ilm fans for all this hassle and proceeds to send their email

106 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

to a random friend’s email account. As Kim’s films were made available through YouTube channels by a number of fans in different countries, the short film Dear Kim was also re-circulated on social media by a Uu Vaach Media channel with encouragement for audiences to watch and share in 2020 (Uu Vaach Media, 2020). Considering the contexts of informal film distribution and fan paratexts, these location-specific clusters of authorship depend on local circumstances of film distribution and critical discourses that may vary widely from the official endorsement of transnational film festivals and official distributors (although it does not always, given that the paratextual remnants of older official framings can also be drawn on – this is very much an empirical question). The contribution of fannish agents sustains an affective economy surrounding Kim Ki-duk as a particular auteur, allowing the filmmaker to maintain a valued authorial status in informal distribution contexts despite meeting more problematic receptions within both the industry and his country of origin. His reputation has become almost too problematic to discuss in today’s transnational and transmedia contexts, save for revisiting his earlier films as part of a wider discussion on changes within the South Korean film industry and the need for a more inclusive auteur canon, as I’ll now go on to show.

Participatory Paratexts and an Inclusive Auteurism Locating film authorship in the context of film distribution from the 2010s onwards requires consideration of the role of digital video on demand (VOD) in relation to the accessibility of films and the visibility of certain authorial agents. On one level, key players such as Netflix, Amazon Prime Video, iTunes, Google Play, and Mubi seem to sustain the existence of East Asian cinema, which has become one of their searchable categories. The “long-tail model” (Anderson, 2004, 2006) also enabled certain filmmakers to transcend nationally and regionally specific framings in production and distribution contexts. One notable case was the funding and global release of Bong Joon-ho’s Okja (2017), which was distributed and catalogued as a US action and adventure movie on Netflix. Bong’s earlier successful blockbuster hit The Host (2006) was also distributed widely on the platform. A selection of Kim Ki-duk’s films from various stages of his career have likewise been made available in certain countries. Included in the Netflix catalogue as surveyed by the FlixList global database (https://flixlist.co/) as of 2021 are Dream, Pietà, and Moebius. Kim’s Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

107

… and Spring and 3-Iron, acquired by Sony Pictures Classics, are the two films most widely distributed across different VOD platforms, including options to rent or buy on Amazon and iTunes. Kim’s later films, however, have more limited visibility. In the critical domain, Kim Ki-duk has been mentioned when critics revisit the history of South Korean cinema in order to celebrate new national auteurs. In 2014, as Bong Joon-ho’s Snowpiercer (2013) was released theatrically in the United States, IndieWire published an article titled “Primer: 10 Essential Films of the Korean New Wave” (Playlist Staff, 2014). Bong was introduced as being “at the forefront of the so-called Korean New Wave” along with “poster children Park Chan-wook (‘Oldboy’), Lee Chang-dong, Hong Sang-soo, Kim Ki-duk and Kim Ji-woon” (2014, para. 2). While Bong was the focus of the article, film fans in the comments contributed to the Korean canon by adding their favourite films to the list. This form of participation opens up an opportunity to address the limitation of past canonizations of filmmakers. One of the contributions that stood out from other comments came from Adam Hartzell, who drew attention to academic books on “New Korean cinema” (a category that could be traced back to the 1980s) and to the importance of recognizing and including female directors and their films. Recommended films included Take Care of My Cat (2001) by Jeong Jae-eun, Yim Soon-rye’s Waikiki Brothers (2001) and Forever the Moment (2008), as well as the “Comfort Women” trilogy or Najeun moksori (1995, 1997, 1999) by Byun Young-joo, described as “perhaps the most important documentary series made in South Korea.” Hartzell also pointed to the “patiently paced film” Invisible Light (2003) by Gina Kim that may not appeal to a wider audience but was nevertheless his personal favourite. This participatory dimension illuminates attempts by individual cinephiles to expand the conversation on national cinema, in particular so as to include female directors, prior to the #MeToo phenomenon. The wider push to address female South Korean filmmakers in distribution and critical domains can be found more widely around 2016 onwards. Reflecting on the development of South Korean cinema in the light of the London Korean Film Festival in 2016, Darcy Paquet noted that Six directors who debuted in the 1990s have been held up by international critics and festival programmers as Korea’s most important auteurs: Park Chan-wook, Hong Sangsoo, Bong Joon-ho, Lee Chang-dong, Kim Ki-duk and Kim Jee-woon. However, to focus only on this small group of admittedly talented directors obscures much of what is interesting about contemporary Korean cinema. (Paquet, 2017, para. 4)

108 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

At the London Korean Film Festival that year, the special programme “The Lives of Korean Women through the Eyes of Women Directors” drew attention to female filmmakers as well as the gender issue in the South Korean film industry and the global film market (Paquet, 2017, para. 5). Citing sources from the forum “Representing Women on Screen” and the festival catalogue, it was noted that “36 per cent of speaking characters in Korean commercial film are female, and 50 per cent of films have female leads or co-leads – far higher than the global average” (Paquet, 2017, para. 6). Featured in Paquet’s article are quotes from “veteran” female director Yim Soon-rye and director Lee Kyoung-mi. The latter, who won Best Director at the 2016 Korean Association of Film Critics Awards, reflected on online criticism of “female-centred films” which influenced producers and investors (Paquet, 2017, para. 7). The article also set out the view of debut female director, Lee Hyun-joo, on the limitations for female filmmakers imposed by the industry (2017, para. 10–11). A major cultural and cinephilic moment in which the South Korean film canon could be revisited, with an invitation to watch and learn about new films from the country, came after Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite (2019) won the Palme d’Or at Cannes and then a series of Oscars, including “Best Picture” in 2020. Following this historical win, contemporary South Korean films were paratextually grouped together and introduced to readers in the English-speaking world by various critics. Peter Bradshaw (2020), writing for The Guardian, published an article “Classics of Modern South Korean Cinema – Ranked!” with synopses of 20 films along with an embedded YouTube trailer for each. Parasite is one of the 20 films (ranked second after Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden from 2016). Kim Ki-duk’s Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring was ranked fifth, the only film from the director to be included in the list. Importantly, Bradshaw included a number of films by female filmmakers as part of a revised canon. This included Jeong Jae-eun’s Take Care of My Cat (2001) dubbed “a cult classic for Korean film fans,” Kim Bora’s quasi-autobiographical film House of Hummingbird (2018), and Lee Jeong-hyang’s The Way Home (2002). The article was subsequently shared on Reddit, where fans again participated by adding and commenting on films that had been left out, as well as remarking on those presented that were their own personal favourites (Conscious_sleep, 2020). While critical writings on South Korean cinema continue to revisit the recognizable auteurs of the early 2000s,12 there have also been more online 12 In the US market, Scott Tobias (2020) introduced a list of Korean films as part of an article in the New York Times on where to watch Parasite. Focusing on the authorship of Bong Joon-ho, Bong

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

109

dialogues about the limitations of this canon and female inclusivity. The 2020 edition of the London Korean Film Festival, as reflected on by Vice, further highlighted the limited exposure of female filmmakers leading up to Parasite, noting that “even the most self-proclaimed film buff would struggle to name more than a single female filmmaker from South Korea” (Goh, 2020, para. 3). The article drew attention to the #MeToo movement and the court cases associated with Kim Ki-duk, which had led to a growing “female film new wave” (Goh, 2020, para. 7). The article specifically draws attention to two female directors, Lim Sun-aw, whose directorial debut An Old Lady (2019) addresses the case of sexual violence against older women, and Kim Mi-jo, whose film Gull (2020) unpacks the subject of sexual assault in South Korea (Goh, 2020, para. 5–6). In the wider cultural domain, the online film collective focusing on East Asian content Filmed in Ether also released a video essay under the title “The Women Directors Leading South Korean Cinema into Its Next Century,” which was published across the group’s different social media platforms (Chau, 2020). This 10-minute video begins with the story of Parasite and the coinciding celebration of the 100th anniversary of South Korean cinema and its contribution to world cinema. The key argument of the video is formed around the question “But what about the next century of Korean cinema?” Reviewing film festival selections from 2019 and 2020, the site reviewed film catalogues from the New York Asian Film Festival, the International Film Festival Rotterdam, and the Korean Film Festival in Australia to highlight the increasing visibility of female filmmakers. The video further reflected on “some of the women who paved the way” in the Korean film industry, namely Yim Soon-Rye (Little Forest, 2018), Jeong Jae-Eun (Take Care of My Cat, 2001), Lee Kyoung-Mi (The Truth Beneath, 2016), Lee Kyoung-Mi (The School Nurse Files, 2020), Lee Kyoung-Mi (Persona (Love Set), 2019), and Park Chan-Ok (Paju, 2009). The next part of the video introduces debut female filmmakers and reviews their work in close detail. Featured directors here include Yoon Dan-bi (Moving On, 2019), whose work is compared to East Asian auteurs Yasujiro Ozu, Hou Hsiao-hsien, and Edward Yang; Yoon GaEun (The House of Us, 2019), whom the director Bong Joon-ho vouched for as “one of 20 filmmakers to watch out for in [the] 2020s”; and Han Ka-ram (Our Body, 2019), whose graduate film has been included as part of the “10 was positioned as the South Korean filmmaker who most “consistently defied categorization.” The writer recalled the film festival circuit where Korean cinema had been booming via familiar names such as Kim Ki-duk (The Isle), Park Chan-wook (Oldboy), and Kim Jee-woon (A Tale of Two Sisters).

110 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

best Korean films released in 2019” chosen by critics for the Korean Film Archive. The video also includes interviews with different filmmakers in Korean with English subtitles, allowing both the portraits and voices of these filmmakers to emerge. Through these new paratexts circulating across social media platforms, the notion of film authorship in relation to national and regional cinema has been re-evaluated via the critical lens of gender inclusivity. As the commercial market related to transnational East Asian cinema has tended to be short-lived, the exploration of remnants of older paratexts alongside revisionist newer ones at both formal and informal distribution sites and through fan groups can reveal the profound fluidity of film authorship as a concept over time.

Conclusion This chapter has examined paratexts shaping film authorship that are linked to East Asian cinema’s different distribution sites. Tied to the logic of market economies, sociopolitical circumstances, and diverse clusters of agents in different countries, the notion of authorship has fluctuated significantly across the past two decades. My case study revisited a problematic auteur figure, Kim Ki-duk, in connection with the category of East Asian “cult” and “extreme” cinema in the home video market. Initially this frame of reference was shaped through discourses associated with national and regional cinema, and taste cultures contextualized by distribution agents. Highlighting the importance of geographical and temporal contexts in shaping contemporary auteur culture, the chapter then traced clusters of authorship through paratexts circulating in official and informal distribution channels. In the 1990s, the US Chinatown video market revealed the repackaging of South Korean films to fit diasporic pan-Asian audiences. The framing of the filmmaker-as-auteur was subsequently markedly reconfigured following the transatlantic success of art-cult East Asian cinema in the DVD market. And following a period of self-exile and the decline of pan-Asian cult film distributors, a new generation of multi-platform distribution helped to rebrand the problematic figure of Kim Ki-duk as an authorial “master” through a retrospective release of his first movie, along with promotional paratexts generated around a distributor-driven film festival. Once this new period of authorial recognition moved into decline, Kim’s auteur status was maintained through informal distribution channels fostered by fans in various locations. Each site of informal distribution that

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

111

I explored had its own localized discourses that were employed to support the filmmaker. In the context of South India, fans’ circumstances did not necessarily acknowledge the director’s faded and damaged reception in broader transnational film markets and critical domains. Instead, fans’ informal distribution tended to draw on the paratextual remnants of Kim’s older positionings as a consecrated auteur, combined with new paratextual framings by micro-influencer critics and cinephiles. Reflecting on the wider context of South Korean cinema in the transnational landscape, Kim’s authorial position is now highly problematic; it no longer reflects the sociocultural circumstances of an industry that seeks to progressively pave the way for a more equal field for women filmmakers. New transmedia sites that promote discourses on East Asian cinema have further revised the auteur canon by selecting works that continue to find relevance in today’s film culture. If the 1990s and early 2000s saw a push towards diverse films from Asia that expanded “world cinema” and “cult/ transgressive” taste cultures, the 2010s and 2020s have led to ethical reflections as well as better gender representation in the auteurist canon. Viewing auteur culture as a form of participatory culture at film distribution sites, the position of a filmmaker as auteur – as I’ve shown here for the late Kim Ki-duk – can always be adjusted and contested depending on commercial and critical discourses, and changing circumstances in global and local film markets.

Works Cited 48adidaphat. (2020). [Full HD – English sub & 14 sub] Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring – 봄 여름 가을 겨울 그리고 봄 (2003). [Video]. YouTube. https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwCHBJYOi5E&ab_channel=48adidaphat A-Dumb-Ass. (2020). Half the comments here are about how great his f ilms are. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/ kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/gfejek5?utm_ source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3 Ahn, S. (2012). The Pusan International Film Festival, South Korean cinema and globalization. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Álvaro T. (2020). It wouldn’t be fair to consider the movies “his.” [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/toktokhanalvaro/status/1337447408096120833 Amazon.com. (n.d.-b). Real fiction. https://www.amazon.com/Real-Fiction-Jinmo-Ju/dp/B000AOENAO

112 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Anderson, C. (2004, October 1). The long tail. Wired, 10(2). http://www.wired.com/ wired/archive/12.10/tail.html Anderson, C. (2006). The long tail: How endless choice is creating unlimited demand. New York: Hyperion. Andrews, D. (2013). Theorizing art cinemas: Foreign, cult, avant-garde, and beyond. Austin: University of Texas Press. Armstrong, D. (2004, March 6). A risky leap into action: South S.F. importer of Asian films releases one on Stuntmen, made on a shoestring. SFGate. https:// www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/A-risky-leap-into-action-South-S-F-importerof-2813402.php A_seoulite_man. (2020). I am South Korean and a movie fan. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/ Badley, L., Perkins, C., & Schreiber, M. (2016). Indie reframed: Women’s filmmaking & contemporary American independent cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. BelgianBond. (2020). Talk about a rollercoaster article. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/korean_ director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/gfdwyrm?utm_source=share&utm_ medium=web2x&context=3 Berlinale. (n.d.). Panorama. Berlin International Film Festival. https://www. berlinale.de/en/festival/sections/panorama.html Boyle, K. (2019). #MeToo, Weinstein and feminism. Glasgow: Palgrave Macmillan. Bradshaw, P. (2020, February 13). Classics of modern South Korean cinema – ranked! The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/f ilm/2020/feb/13/ classics-of-modern-south-korean-cinema-ranked Brookey, R. A., & Westerfelhaus, R. (2002). Hiding homoeroticism in plain view: The Fight Club DVD as digital closet. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 19(1), 21–43. Brzeski, P. (2018, February 17). Berlin: South Korean filmmaker Kim Ki-duk responds to on-set abuse controversy. Hollywood ­Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter. com/movies/movie-news/berlin-south-korean-filmmaker-kim-ki-duk-respondsset-abuse-controversy-1085852/ Busse, K. (2013). The return of the author: Ethos and identity politics. In J. Gray & D. Johnson (Eds.), A Companion to media authorship (pp. 48–68). Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Charles, J. (2009). The Hong Kong filmography: A complete reference to 1,100 films produced by British Hong Kong studios, 1977 through 1997. Jefferson: McFarland.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

113

Chau, H. (2020, October 26). The women directors leading South Korean cinema into its next century. Filmed in Ether. https://www.filmedinether.com/video-essays/ the-women-directors-leading-south-korean-cinema-into-its-next-century/ Choi, J. (2010). The South Korean film renaissance: Local hitmakers global provocateurs. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press. Chung, H. S. (2012). Kim Ki-duk. Champaign: University of Illinois Press. Chung, H. S., & Diffrient, D. S. (2015). Movie migrations: Transnational genre flows and South Korean cinema. New Brunswick and London: Rutgers University Press. Conscious_sleep. (2020). Classics of modern South Korean cinema – ranked. [Online forum post]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/f4isfs/classics_ of_modern_south_korean_cinema_ranked/ Crisp, V. (2015). Film distribution in the digital age: Pirates and professionals. Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Desser, D. (2016). Chungking Express, Tarantino and the making of a reputation. In M. Nochimson (Ed.), Companion to Wong Kar-wai (pp. 319–344). Chichester: Wiley Blackwell. Dew, O. (2007). “Asia Extreme”: Japanese cinema and British hype. New Cinemas: Journal of Contemporary Film, 5(1), 53–73. Dorey, T. (2012). Fantastic Mr Filmmaker: Paratexts and the positioning of Wes Anderson as Roald Dahl’s cinematic heir. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 10(1), 169–185. Egan, K. (2015). Precious footage of the auteur at work: Framing, accessing, using, and cultifying Vivian Kubrick’s Making the Shining. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 13(1), 63–82. Egan, K. (2017). The Criterion Collection, cult-art films and Japanese horror: DVD labels as transnational mediators? Transnational Cinemas, 8(1), 65–79. Godspeed_guys. (2020). I honestly loved 3-Iron. I watched back in 2005. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/ korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/ Goh, K. (2020, November 10). A new wave of Korean filmmakers are tackling sexual violence through cinema. i-D. https://i-d.vice.com/en_uk/article/akdg4p/londonkorean-film-festival-new-wave-of-female-directors-tackling-sexual-violence Gonzaga, J. (2016, June  17). Spring Summer Fall Winter and Spring 2003 – English, Spanish subtitles. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=H1GG6o-hPEA&ab_channel=JoseGonzaga Grant, C. (2001). Secret agents: Feminist theories of women’s f ilm authorship. Feminist Theory, 2(1), 113–130. Grant, C. (2008). Auteur machines? Auteurism and the DVD. In J. Bennett & T. Brown (Eds.), Film and television after DVD (pp. 101–115). New York: Routledge.

114 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Gray, J. (2013). When is the author? In J. Gray & D. Johnson (Eds.), A companion to media authorship (pp. 88–111). Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Harrison, R. (2018, November 9). Fuck the canon (or, How do you solve a problem like von Trier?): Teaching, screening and writing about cinema in the age of #MeToo. Mai Feminism. https://maifeminism.com/fuck-the-canon-or-howdo-you-solve-a-problem-like-von-trier-teaching-screening-and-writing-aboutcinema-in-the-age-of-metoo/ Hawkins, J. (2010). Culture wars: Some new trends in art horror. In I. Conrich (Ed.), Horror zone: The cultural experience of contemporary horror cinema (pp. 125–138). London: I. B. Tauris. Hendrix, G. (2005, February 18). The redeeming violence of Korea’s least popular director. New York Sun. https://www.nysun.com/article/arts-redeeming-violenceof-koreas-least-popular Herbert, D. (2013). Auteurs at the video store. In J. Gray & D. Johnson (Eds.), A companion to media authorship (pp. 485–505). Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Hong Kong Cinema. (2008, May 31). Release news – Tai Seng new releases. http:// www.hkcinema.co.uk/Articles/newsarchiveq22005.htm Hunt, L. (2008). Asiaphilia, Asianisation and the gatekeeper auteur: Quentin Tarantino and Luc Besson. In L. Hunt & W.-F. Leung (Eds.), East Asian cinemas: Exploring transnational connections on film (pp. 226–236). London and New York: I. B. Tauris. India Today. (2022, April 5). “TheLallantop.com” becomes the only digital f irst original news brand to cross 10 million subscribers on YouTube. https://www.indiatoday.in/india/story/-the-lallantop-com-becomes-theonly-digital-f irst-original-news-brand-to-cross-10-million-subscribers-onyoutube-1620072-2019-11-18 Internet Archive. (n.d.). About the Internet Archive. https://archive.org/about/ K20132019. (2020). He’s accused of harassing his actress during filming. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/k20132019/status/1337601156961341444 Kendrick, J. (2001). What is the criterion? The Criterion Collection as an archive of film as culture. Journal of Film and Video, 53(2/3), 124–139. Kênh Tổng Hợp Chanel. (2017, November 7). Phim Cánh Cung HD có hổ trợ tiếng việt nha các bạn. [Video]. YouTube. https://w w w.youtube.com/ watch?v=OuGKYTzxXW4 Kim, B. (2020, December 11). He most certainly was not. [Tweet]. Twitter. https:// twitter.com/ubi905/status/1337433850276876288 Kim, J. (2018). After the disclosures: A year of #sexual_violence_in_the_film_industry in South Korea. Feminist Media Studies, 18(3), 505–508. Kim, M. J. (2007). Race, gender, and postcolonial identity in Kim Ki-duk’s Address Unknown. In F. K. Gateward (Ed.), Seoul searching: Culture and identity

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

115

in contemporary Korean cinema (pp. 243–263). Albany: State University of New York Press. KK, Shahina. (2013, December 25). Kerala loves Kim. The unlikely popularity of one South Korean filmmaker among Malayalee cinephiles. Open the Magazine. https://openthemagazine.com/cinema/kerala-loves-kim/ Klein, C. (2004). Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: A diasporic reading. Cinema Journal, 43(4), 18–42. http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/cinema_journal/v043/43.4klein. pdf Kumar, P. (2018). 3 Iron 2004 720p Korean. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=r849TTlSbIQ&ab_channel=PIYUSHKUMAR Lallantop. (2020, October 11). वो Korean film जो negative thoughts भगा द ेग ी । Spring Summer Fall Winter & Spring । Meaning of Life. [Video]. YouTube. https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=1Ukwq6gv-Ow&ab_channel=TheLallantop Leona5. (2020, December 12). Thanks! That’s exactly what I wanted to say. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/Leona598792397/status/1337742494323286024 Leong, A. C. Y. (2002). Korean cinema. Victoria: Trafford. Leung, J. (2014). Welcome. Terracotta Festival. http://terracottafestival.com/ festival-brochure-available-download/ Lobato, R. (2007). Subcinema: Theorizing marginal film distribution. Limina: A Journal of Historical and Cultural Studies, 13, 113–120. Lobato, R. (2012). Shadow economies of cinema. London: BFI. Macnab, G. (2018, June 20). Acquisitions director at Arrow Films makes surprise exit. Screen Daily. https://www.screendaily.com/news/acquisitions-directorat-arrow-films-makes-surprise-exit/5130273.article Mannino, A. (2012a, July 26). BREATH: Free screening of a Kim Ki-duk f ilm!! Kickstarter. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/mannino/breath-freescreening-of-a-kim-ki-duk-film Mannino, A. (2012b, August 15). Without a screen: Ki-duk Kim. Cinedelphia. https://web.archive.org/web/20210516094646/http://cinedelphia.com/ without-a-screen-ki-duk-kim/ Marghitu, S. (2018). “It’s just art”: Auteur apologism in the post-Weinstein era. Feminist Media Studies, 18(3), 491–494. Martin, D. (2009). Asia Extreme: The marketing and critical reception of cult Asia cinema in the UK. [Doctoral dissertation, University of East Anglia]. EThOS e-theses online service. https://ethos.bl.uk/OrderDetails.do?uin=uk.bl.ethos.520428 Martin, D. (2015). Extreme Asia: The rise of cult cinema from the Far East. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. McDonald, P. (2009). Miramax, Life is Beautiful, and the indiewoodization of the foreign language film market in the USA. New Review of Film and Television Studies, 7(4), 353–375.

116 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

McKenna, M. (2017). Whose canon is it anyway? Subcultural capital, cultural distinction and value in high art and low culture film distribution. In J. Wroot & A. Willis (Eds.), Cult media: Re-packaged, re-released and restored (pp. 31–47). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Noh, J. (2018, March 7). Kim Ki-duk, Cho Jae-hyun accused of multiple sexual assaults in TV expose. Screen Daily. https://www.screendaily.com/news/kimki-duk-cho-jae-hyun-accused-of-multiple-sexual-assaults/5127278.article Northampton, M. (2008, June 12). Tai Seng Entertainment has partnered with EZTakes to sell a catalog of Asian movies as DVD downloads. PR Web. https:// www.prweb.com/releases/2008/06/prweb1016184.htm Paquet, D. (2009). New Korean cinema: Breaking the waves. London: Wallflower. Paquet, D. (2017, August 3). The (few) women breaking through in Korean cinema. Sight & Sound. https://www2.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/sight-sound-magazine/ features/women-korean-cinema Paquet, D. (2020a, December 11). I stopped teaching Kim Ki-duk’s films. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/darcypaquet/status/1337426712234115073 Paquet, D. (2020b, December 12). Here is an article that explains some of it. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/darcypaquet/status/1337705345485979648 Paquet, D. (n.d.). The Kim Ki-duk page. Koreanfilm.org. http://www.koreanfilm. org/kimkiduk.html Patito_G22. (2014, January 11). Samaritan Girl sub Español completa. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHUaYOtBl10 Perkins, C., & Verevis, C. (Eds.). (2014). B is for bad cinema: Aesthetics, politics, and cultural value. Albany: State University of New York Press. Pesce, S., & Noto, P. (Eds.). (2018). The politics of ephemeral digital media: Permanence and obsolescence in paratexts. London: Routledge. Pett, E. (2014). A contested category: British audiences and Asian extreme films. [Doctoral dissertation, Aberystwyth University]. EThOS e-theses online service. https://ethos.bl.uk/OrderDetails.do?uin=uk.bl.ethos.606504 Playlist Staff. (2014, June 26). Primer: 10 essential films of the Korean new wave. IndieWire. https://www.indiewire.com/2014/06/primer-10-essential-films-ofthe-korean-new-wave-84413/ Potonganfilm. (2020). Awal tahun kemarin rame drakor TWOTM (The World of The Marriage) tentang perselingkuhan. [Photograph]. [Instagram post]. Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/p/CLjbDyABMPW/ Rayns, T. (2004). Sexual terrorism: The strange case of Kim Ki-duk. Film Comment, 40(6), 50–52. Regelman, K. (1997). Asian filmmakers make their presence felt. Variety, 49. Richards, S., & Harris, L. C. (2020). From the event to the everyday: Distributordriven film festivals. Media International Australia, 1–10.

Remnants from Distribution Channels and (Un)tenable Authorial Positions

117

RipMortan88. (2020). Sadly, I just realized I hadn’t watched any of his work since 3-Iron. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/ comments/kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/ gfg2rk9?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3 Rivière, D. (Ed.). (2006). Kim Ki-duk. Paris: Dis Voir. Samardzija, Z. (2010). DavidLynch.com: Authorship in the age of the internet and digital cinema. Scope, 16. https://www.nottingham.ac.uk/scope/documents/2010/ february-2010/samardzija.pdf Schilling, M. (2010, September 2). Crunchyroll links up with Tai Seng. Variety. https:// variety.com/2010/biz/news/crunchyroll-links-up-with-tai-seng-1118023652/ Sev1nk. (2020). Whao. He was responsible for those? [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://w w w.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/gfej0wz?utm_source=share&utm_ medium=web2x&context=3 Shaneo632. (2020). One of the f irst directors to really open my eyes to “world cinema.” [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/ kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/gfee6sx?utm_ source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3 Shin, C.-Y. (2008). Art of branding: Tartan “Asia Extreme” films. Jump Cut: A Review of Contemporary Media, 50(Spring). http://www.ejumpcut.org/archive/jc50.2008/ TartanDist/text.html Shin, C.-Y., & Stringer, J. (Eds.). (2005). New Korean cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Srinivas, S. V. (2003). Hong Kong action film in the Indian B circuit. Inter-Asia Cultural Studies, 4(1), 40–62. Supervastguru. (2009, February 18). Tai Seng entertainment ident. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daOLTlePmbk Taylor-Jones, K. E. (2013). Rising sun, divided land: Japanese and South Korean filmmakers. New York: Columbia University Press. Terracotta Far East Film Festival. (2013). Prize winner trip to Hong Kong. http:// terracottafestival.com/prize-winner-trip-to-hong-kong/ Terracotta Far East Film Festival. (n.d.-a). About us. http://terracottafestival.com/ about-us/ Terracotta Far East Film Festival. (n.d.-b). Terracotta Festival in the press. http:// terracottafestival.com/press/ Thomas, B. (2003). VideoHound’s Dragon: Asian action & cult flicks. Canton: Visible Ink Press.

118 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Tobias, S. (2020, April 9). “Parasite” director Bong Joon Ho’s must-see movies: Where to watch. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/article/bong-joonho-movies.html Totaro, D. (2004). Seom/The Isle. In J. Bowyer (Ed.), The cinema of Japan and Korea. London: Wallflower Press. Trice, J. (2015). Manila’s new cinephilia. Quarterly Review of Film and Video, 32(7), 611–624. U/zuff. (2020). Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID. [Online forum post]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/korean_director_ kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/ Uu Vaach Media. (2020, May 16). “Dear Kim Ki Duk” A Malayalam short film English subtitles … about the dreams of rural youths. [Video]. YouTube. https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=mywHpZZsb58 Van Staden, C. (2017). Watching Hong Kong martial arts film under Apartheid. Journal of African Cultural Studies, 29(1), 46–62. Wall, B., & Petersen, C. N. (2019). Questioning ethical possibility: Thigh slicing as ritual for the initiation of compassion and filial piety in Kim Ki-duk’s Pietà (2012). Journal of Japanese and Korean Cinema, 11(2), 170–185. White, P. (2015). Women’s cinema, world cinema: Projecting contemporary feminisms. Durham: Duke University Press. Wroot, J. (2015). Reviewing distinctive DVD experiences: NEO magazine and the critical reception of Asian media distributors. Participations: Journal of Audience & Reception Studies, 12(1), 82–101. http://www.participations.org/Volume%20 12/Issue%201/6.pdf Wroot, J. (2019). Distributing Asian cinema, past and present: Definitions from DVD labels. In A. H. J. Magnan-Park, G. Marchetti, & S. K. Tan (Eds.), Palgrave handbook of Asian cinema (pp. 201–219). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Xxdismalfirexx. (2020). The South Korean new wave has done so much. [Comment on the online forum post “Korean director Kim Ki-Duk has died from COVID”]. Reddit. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/kb05no/korean_director_kim_kiduk_has_died_from_covid/gfg4qu8?utm_source=share&utm_ medium=web2x&context=3

3.

Textual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Transmedia Auteur Culture Abstract: Placing the growth of East Asian film authorship within the context of new cinephilia and transcultural f ilm fans, this chapter draws attention to the vernacular participations of auteur culture via user-generated paratexts. Examining official and fan-made mash-ups, collectible objects, and stories of cinephile pilgrimages related to the Hong Kong filmmaker Wong Kar-wai, the chapter explores the way film authorship has proliferated outside the domain of the film industry, and through discourses that both reaffirm and challenge previous conceptions of film authorship in relation to East Asian cinema. Keywords: cinephilia, fan culture, intertextuality, collectibles, fan pilgrimage

Wong Kar-wai made his directorial debut with the Hong Kong action-drama film As Tears Go By in 1988, compared to Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets (1973) by critics (Lee, 2021, para. 5; Tambling, 2003, p. 1). The movie gained good box office receipts, won two Hong Kong Film Festival awards and was screened non-competitively at the Cannes Film Festival (Lee & Lee, 2017, p. 20; Semaine de la Critique, n.d.). By 2018, the film had reached its 30th anniversary and the Hong Kong-based newspaper South China Morning Post published a reflection on Wong’s career covering all of his ten films to date, ranking them “from good to great” (Lee E., 2018). Noting that Wong turned 60 the previous year, the article encouraged its readers to check out “some of the finest Chinese-language films ever made” (Lee E., 2018, para. 2) in case they were not familiar already. In 2016, despite not having released new films for a few years, the director continued to gain extensive attention through a network of paratextual

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch03

120 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

references to his past body of work by academics, news outlets, and a growing generation of fan artists. Apart from English-language monographs on the director published from 2005 onwards (cf. Bettinson, 2015; Brunette, 2005; Teo, 2005), a substantial edited collection, A Companion to Wong Kar-wai, was also released with 25 essays on various dimensions of the director’s works (see Nochimson, 2016). In the same year, there was a children’s book, The ZOO-vre of Wong Kar-wai, being shared on Twitter; this was made by the filmmaker and art therapists Isaac and Valerie Chung and featured all of Wong’s ten films with quirky pages such as an image of two cows eating in a restaurant with the caption “in the moo for love” (Chang, 2016). Beyond print media, 2016 was also a busy year for paratextual circulation. The Criterion website published an article along with a video interview with American f ilmmaker Barry Jenkins, whose f ilm Moonlight (2016) was an Oscar contender. Titled “What Wong Kar-wai Taught Barry Jenkins about Longing,” the interview presented Jenkins describing his encounter with Chungking Express (1994) and its influential montage sequence using “What a Difference a Day Makes” (1959) (Criterion, 2016). Shortly after the news that Moonlight had won the Oscar, a film fan from Italy, Alessio Marinacci, released a video on YouTube juxtaposing footage from Wong’s various films with a soundtrack and sequences from Moonlight (Marinacci, 2017). Marinacci’s “homage to two extraordinary filmmakers” rapidly went viral with over 230,000 views, followed by reports in the industry press and media sites, including IndieWire (Erbland, 2017), The Film Stage (Raup, 2017), Quartz (Huang, 2017), and AsiaOne (Yap, 2017). In 2020 as the Covid-19 pandemic suspended cinema-going activities worldwide, a meme with stills from Chungking Express was made and circulated via VCinema (2020) and various Facebook pages followed by fans of East Asian films. Juxtaposing two images from the movie, the top image is of Cop 223 (Takeshi Kaneshiro) walking closely past May (Faye Wong) with text that reads “Poor social distancing.” The bottom image is of May with Cop 663 (Tony Leung), as she stands a good distance away from him in front of the Midnight Express takeaway stall. The text this time reads “Proper social distancing.” The post is accompanied with a message: “We hope our readers practice proper social distancing while California Dreaming.” Since then, non-surgical face masks with designs associated with Wong’s films have also been circulated via the print-to-order website Redbubble. These instances, selected from a trail of materials across recent years, give just a glimpse of the ongoing traffic of paratextual production that still circulates in relation to a film auteur who emerged in the same period as those discussed in the previous two chapters.

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

121

So far in this monograph, I have contextualized the global recognition of contemporary East Asian auteurs through paratextual assemblages associated with film festival networks and formal/informal distribution platforms. In Chapters 1 and 2, some of these paratexts revealed instances when film fans/cinephiles had asserted their individual voices in support of specific filmmakers/collectives. This dimension is elaborated on further in this chapter, particularly through audience networks that do not have any direct associations with the film industry. Addressing links between the subject of film authorship, paratexts, and committed audiences, I will begin by grounding this discussion within the realms of cinephilia and a segment of fan studies, both of which have contributed to the investigation of film authorship and participatory culture from the early 2000s onwards.

Film Authorship and Participatory Culture: Roots in Cinephilia and Fan Studies The growth in analyzing film authorship (and authorial discourses) in relation to audiences has been associated with two deaths. One is the death of cinephilia discussed by Susan Sontag in the 1990s, as the medium of film turned 100 years old. Sontag’s eulogy gave rise to the “new cinephilia” and ways of talking about film history through the point of view of those who loved films. The other death is the continuous resonance in media and audience studies of Roland Barthes’s “death of the author” (Barthes, 2008 [1968]). Titled “The Decay of Cinema,” Sontag’s (1996) article published in the New York Times pointed to the lack of an “intense loving relationship with cinema” amongst contemporary cinephiles, particularly compared to the generation of committed film audiences who attended theatrical screenings with a dedicated attention to the moving image whilst being immersed in the appreciation of film art. Part of the discussion pointed to the canon of films that Sontag found enriching – these were by directors who were not defeated by commercial systems of film, including French and Italian new waves. The spirit of cinephilia fostered by film magazines and discussed in Sontag’s article was highly medium-specific; it emphasized audiences’ fascination with the cinema to the extent that cinema was dead if cinephilia were dead, unless it could be “resurrected” through “a new kind of cine-love” (Sontag, 1996, p. 60). This new kind of cinephilia took place in the wake of interest in East Asian filmmakers and through the expanded canon of world cinema.

122 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Writing on “cinephilia in the new media age,” Marijke de Valck and Malte Hagener (2005, p. 13) reflected on two developments in cinephilia in the early 2000s. One was the exploration illustrated in Movie Mutations (Rosenbaum & Martin, 2003), which focused on the growth of world cinema and professionalized cinephiles who were connected through film festivals and the internet. Invoking the idea of a film canon, the editors Jonathan Rosenbaum and Adrian Martin noted that their book looks into a number of the “masters” of this new map of world cinema, like Kiarostami, Hou and Tsai – which is maybe an old-fashioned, auteurist way to proceed, but absolutely necessary when you flip open the latest edition of David Thomson’s The New Biographical Dictionary of Film and still read the ill-informed lament that “there are so few masters left now.” (Rosenbaum & Martin, 2003, pp. vii–viii)

Wong Kar-wai was mentioned in the long opening exchanges by various contributors. As observed by Kent Jones, Wong’s works were seen as part of a new strand of modern genre film combined with musical experience (Rosenbaum & Martin, 2003, p. 9). In the same book, Nicole Brenez noted that Wong’s movies were so influential that they had “accustomed” young viewers at the Cinémathèque Française to “the contemplation of faces, chromatic research and narrative destruction” (Rosenbaum & Martin, 2003, p. 22). A broader definition of cinephilia was proposed by De Valck and Hagener’s anthology “as an umbrella term for a number of different affective engagements with the moving image” (2005, p. 14). They suggested the notion of “videosyncrasy” to highlight the shift across different “technologies, platforms and subject positions in a highly idiosyncratic fashion that nevertheless remains collective and flexible enough to allow for the intersubjective exchange of affect, objects and memories” (De Valck & Hagener, 2005, p. 14). Further elaborating on this idea is the writing of the late Thomas Elsaesser published in the same collection, which discussed emerging engagements through digital media, and the different kind of intimacy that could be attained through DVD and home distribution culture. Dubbed “cinephilia: take two,” this latter type is linked to the concept of media fandom through practices of reviewing, collecting, and collapsing divisions between art cinema, genre films, and B-movies. Instead of reproducing discourses of authenticity derived from the cinematic experimentation of filmmakers, these new cinephiles embraced directors who expressed their love of cinema through blurring the divide between highbrow and lowbrow aesthetics. Practices such as intertextual referencing in a film have also been explored

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

123

as a kind of cinephilic filmmaking linked to a transcultural taste culture (Ng, 2005, p. 67). Grounded in innovative new films and the presumed ontology of cinema, subsequent works on cinephilia have expanded forms of film criticism and writing to cover new cinematic experiences and film objects. Through an examination of Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, released on DVD with extra materials by Criterion, Catherine Russell discussed “the world of things” in the film which shaped cinephilic appreciation, including the DVD itself, the props, and décor (2012, p. 115). Through the metaphor of a phantasmagoria, these “things” bring back the cultural memory of the objects in historical context while they also allow the “reclaiming [of] the sensual, experiential world of audio-video culture from within its commodification” (Russell, 2012, p. 128). With its intertextuality and certain cinematic motifs, the film has also been linked to other canonical movies such as Alain Renais’s Last Year in Marienbad (1961), Fei Mu’s Spring in a Small Town (1948), and Henry King’s Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing (1955) (Russell, 2012, pp. 121–124). In more recent years, work on cinephilia has expanded to explore the discourse of cosmopolitanism, the sociology of taste culture outside Anglo-European contexts (Radakovich, 2020), and the love of cinema despite a lack of access (Trice, 2015). There are moments when new cinephilia practices seem to resonate with the rituals of cult film fans, e.g. through textual citations of favourite movies (Klinger, 2010), and re-enactments and pilgrimages (Cunningham, 2008; Promkhuntong, 2019), despite the two areas of academic work often having been situated apart. Case studies on cinephiles and fans tend to choose their own separate objects of study and expressions associated with the structuring of the art-commerce divide. An occasion when critics/academics responded negatively to fans in a specific taste culture has been discussed through the notion of “ontological insecurity” by Lori Morimoto. Morimoto illustrated the concept through the way film critic Richard Corliss described the experience of meeting the late Hong Kong superstar Leslie Cheung for an interview just as Cheung was caught between “a global cinephilic calculus that equates unapproachability with exclusivity and seriousness” and what Corliss referred to as “Japanese groupies” seeking access and proximity to Cheung, resulting in the star shouting to try and shoo away a group of these passionate fans in the US. This moment, amongst others, reveals the nuances of differing cinephile/fan expectations in different cultural contexts and geographies, also highlighting the transcultural tensions of cinephilia/fandom (Morimoto, 2018, p. 257). In the broader context of academic work, past explorations of cinephile culture tend to examine mutual affection through film magazines, letters,

124 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

emails, and online discussions. Frequently, it is the individual encounter with films by specific auteurs that sparks aesthetic discussions. These encounters have been discussed in relation to theories on spectatorship and different kinds of selves, along with the anxiety around technological changes (see Keller, 2020). In the realm of fan studies, early interest in East Asian auteurs focused on fan communities both on- and offline and their collective textual productions. Discussions of East Asian cinema have paid attention to the practices of being a fan/part of fandom for certain stars/genres more than for specific filmmakers (cf. Chin, 2007; Lau, 2020; Morimoto, 2013). However, certain stars and filmmakers reveal an interesting case in which their personas and their films draw attention from different taste cultures. In the context of fan studies, and expanding from a focus on subversive fan engagements to cover fan-auteur affective relations, Bertha Chin (2007) explored a group of fans of Wong Kar-wai via Wongkarwai.net as part of the larger body of East Asian cinema fandom. Her work drew attention to aspects of cultural identity and taste culture which correlated with the cultural specificity of Asian pop culture fandom and idol culture. Chin revealed how the increased popularity of East Asian cinema in the West allowed fans to use their knowledge of a specific director, and of East Asian cinema in general, as a kind of “popular cultural capital” positioning them as cultural connoisseurs. In this context, Wong’s works were situated by fans in the realm of popular culture and the transnational recognition of Hong Kong cinema, expanding on the group of “new cinephilia” works which located Wong Kar-wai very differently in the context of world cinema. In some writings, however, cinephiles and fans are used interchangeably. Discussing the growth of Hong Kong cinema in the early 1980s and mid-1990s, fostered by the introduction of VCR and VCD as well as TV networks, David Desser mentions “the new cinephilia” or “the film fan and the film scholar” who paid attention to authorial agents such as John Woo, Ringo Lam, and Tsui Hark along with stars like Jet Li and Chow Yun-fat (2005, pp. 207, 209). Despite its different disciplinary origins, the meeting of fandom and cinephilia alongside the growth of social media and participatory culture has significantly benefited East Asian auteurs and a new generation of media practitioners. In this chapter, I particularly explore the notion of “micro-authorship” as a key contributing factor of transnational East Asian cinema since the early 2000s. Micro-authorship can be conceptualized in relation to the micro- and macro-structure of media and gatekeepers of media content (Freeman, 2016) as well as terms such as “micro-celebrity” (Khamis et al., 2017).

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

125

The scale of authorship has been drawn on by Matthew Freeman (who also cited the work of Michele Hilmes and John Thornton Caldwell) as a way to explore “multiple creative personnel, subdivisions, and subsidiary corporations” (2016, p. 66). These multiple sites involve different scales of authorship from the nation, the social context of the media industries, individual relations within the corporate world of media industries, and different networks that shaped the media content or “the discursive context of the media industries” (2016, p. 80). So far, Chapters 1 and 2 of this book discuss the macro-contexts of film festival and film distribution and their associated agents. The micro-scale to be discussed in this chapter draws attention to individuals who were previously not part of the academic or industrial discourses of film authorship. With the design of social media platforms, the “ordinary” media users are encouraged to take part in textual, spatial, and discursive interactions, allowing them to create alternative knowledge of film authorship beyond the past monopoly by industry professionals. The notion of “micro-authorship” can also be seen in relation to “microcelebrity” as media users have become creators with their own online followers. While “micro-celebrity” engages with discourses on self-mediation and self-branding that converse with “mainstream” star/celebrity culture and marketing, “micro-authorship” converses with discourses associated with auteur culture. These include originality and intertextuality, ownership and fair use related to the increase accessibility of resources and lower barrier to engage in creative works in the digital era. Engaging with but also challenging the notion of “aesthetic ownership,” Stein and Busse (2009, p. 193) remark that fan authorship engages in “intertextual production” which highlights the aspect of “repetition” that resonates with the context of mechanical and digital culture. Yet, this deviates from the traditional concerns of authorship that emphasizes aesthetic “authenticity” of an individual. Instead of exploring the creative limits shaped by the above logic of intertextuality (on this point, see Stein & Busse, 2009), this chapter focuses on the evolvement of fan works/cinephile practices into different textual, material, and spatial culture that benefit the wider screen and “alternative experience economy” (Pett, 2021, p. 140). As will be discussed through case studies related to Wong Kar-wai, this kind of paratextual practices also engage with other kinds of music and pop culture beyond the confine of traditional cinephilia. It is also worth noting that the notion of “micro-authorship” has also been used in the context of copyrights and fair use. Thomas J. Loos (2007) adopted the term to refer to the way consumers engage in their “creative self-expression” that falls under the active copyright discussion, which is

126 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

legitimate under fair use. Loos’s paper gave example of micro-authored activities such as “annotated copies of books, music, and video, [which] should be projected for personal use” (Loos, 2007, p. 615). However, if these works were sold, they are turned into derivative works under the copyright law in the US context (Loos, 2007, p. 615). Loos drew on the lawsuit of Micro Star v. Formgen Inc. (1998) (LexisNexis, n.d.), in which Formgen downloaded user-created game related data that were available (because the game creator, Micro Star, encouraged users to share them) for commercial purpose (by repackaging and selling them on CDs) (Loos, 2007, p. 613). Coinciding with Loo’s remark that “tenuous projection for ‘micro-authorship’ users may be forbearance of the copyright owner” (2007, p. 613), in this section I draw on such forbearance from the side of the filmmaker. This in turn encourages fans to generate extensive intertextual materials. Arguably, without expanded micro-practices ranging from homage YouTube videos, collectible items, to film pilgrimages, East Asian film authorship would not have expanded to the wider global screen culture today.

Film Authorship in Multiple Cultural Sites and Mixing Cultural Discourses Considering the different degrees/types of involvement shown by fans and cinephiles that form the auteur culture surrounding Wong Kar-wai, in this chapter I will explore the different sites participated in by fans and cinephiles, as well as audiences who may not identify themselves in either category. My examination of each paratextual format – involving textual, material, and spatial practices – will cover recurring forms of engagement and tease out discourses surrounding film authorship in relation to cinephilia and fandom. The f irst paratextual cluster addresses shared practices between cinephiles and fans who are concerned with the textual aspect of paratexts. One of the long-standing activities of fans/cinephiles in relation to auteur culture is an engagement with specific film aesthetics and memorable moments expressed through intertextual references. Digital technology and home video distribution formats have also made possible the playful (re)mixing of audiovisual content from pre-existing films along with one’s reflections on being a fan/cinephile. One approach to these textual practices focuses on “cinephiliac” moments, or moments of “epiphany” which bring out reflections on personal memories of film viewing, the power of cinema, and a particular thought, feeling, or idea that may have been overlooked (Keathley,

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

127

2006, p. 30). Scholars such as Catherine Grant (2013) have expanded on this through the format of essay film, which applies the idea of textual productivity to experiments in film criticism. By focusing on a specific filmmaker, such (para)textual practice can work to highlight a filmmaker’s recognizable aesthetic traits and canonical connections in the form of a tribute or homage. The fusion of different sources of inspiration can draw attention to a diverse range of cinema movements and categories such as the “transcultural fusion” between art, cult, and Asian cinema (Ng, 2005). In the context of Wong Kar-wai, this kind of fusion has led to extensive productivity by different participants beyond academics and film students. Here, I’m firstly going to draw attention to two kinds of (para)textual fusion: fan-generated mash-ups of indie music with Wong Kar-wai’s film sequences, and official K-pop music videos. These materials reveal not only individuals’ reflective film appreciation/criticism but a set of arguments and discourses linking authorship to popular culture. Partly located in the vidding culture of media fandom, these works reveal a celebration of collective voices which challenges previous views of visual authority. The second cluster of fan/cinephile related paratexts I will look at are forms of material rather than textual production, something which has not typically been discussed in relation to cinephilia except through primary material objects such as DVDs. My exploration extends to the marketplace of memorabilia, everyday objects, and collectible items that are created by various institutional agents in collaboration with filmmakers as well as through the growing realm of fan craft and print-to-order sites or thrift shop products. These contexts allow an exploration of authorship in relation to expanded fan canons and the agency of a younger generation of creative entrepreneurs. The last site of exploration in this chapter highlights the growth of East Asian film authorship in relation to spatial practices, something which has been a subject of interest in both cinephilia and fan studies from the early 2000s onward. In more recent years, fan pilgrimages to recall and create cinematic memories have been facilitated by a digital and video culture that allows fans to present alternative travel stories and personal memories. Spatial engagement also extends to the creation of new sites such as restaurants and bars that invite both fans and non-fans alike to participate in stylized or themed mediatized spaces. In these instances, discourses of film authorship have become a mode of self making as well as place making. The paratextual clusters in these three cultural domains reveal multiple agencies such as textual and material producers as well as the audiences for these fan works that appear explicitly through comments or implicitly through view counts and content circulation. Via the cases discussed

128 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

throughout this chapter, I intend to provide a bigger picture of the way auteur culture has continuously been (re)shaped by different forms of participation. At the same time, examples have been chosen to highlight the agency of individuals and their engagement with, and expansion of, discourses associated with East Asian cinema and film authorship. These discourses can be found in the multimodality of the works (i.e. design and formal elements) as well as in the connections to other paratexts ranging from interviews and personal blogs to video responses and comments. The decision to analyze selected paratexts in each section is based on the development of my work in relation to Wong Kar-wai and fan/cinephile cultures over time. In my earlier work on the topic, I saw significant growth in engagement with Wong’s films via the social media platform YouTube. In the period between November 2013 and May 2014, there were 16,765 (Google estimated) results on YouTube including the search term “Wong Kar-wai.” That figure has increased to approximately 125,000 results by 2021. I began my work by exploring the most recurring genre of user-generated YouTube content in relation to Wong Kar-wai which reveals a taste homology between a range of “indie” music fans and Wong Kar-wai’s films (see Promkhuntong, 2015). The exploration of fans’ textual participations in relation to K-pop music videos in the following section is an extension of the growth of auteur culture in relation to pan-regional links, fan-industry relations, and film-music genre extensions. Discussion in the second and final parts of the chapter focuses on material objects in relation to the production of gifts and merchandise, both officially and by individual fan artists, as well as considering spatial extensions of auteurism through visits to locations, and the construction of material spaces resembling Wong Kar-wai’s auteurist cinematic universe. This last aspect seeks to extend the conversation on textual transmedia to material and spatial transmedia which have previously been under-explored. In this context, I engage with the analysis of “haptic fandom” (Williams, 2020) that explores auteur-fan relations through the ownership of things, intimacy through objects and touch, and visceral bodily experiences. Such materials, I will argue, also highlight the growth of micro-authorship and everyday film culture.

Authorship and Audiovisual Homage: From Mash-ups to K-pop Music Videos Facilitated by video-sharing sites and access to films and extra materials via DVD releases, fans/cinephiles interested in Wong’s films have collectively

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

129

produced an extensive number of videos, mixing film sequences across the director’s body of work or mixing them with materials from other artists. The audiovisual mash-up was the most recurring genre of videos found on YouTube in relation to Wong Kar-wai. Similar to a music video, a mash-up is a combination of a specific soundtrack and visuals edited together and based on the average length of a pop song, 3 to 5 minutes. Fan mash-ups have grown extensively in popularity and circulation, with some going viral such as the aforementioned combination of Wong’s film sequences and Barry Jenkins’s Moonlight. According to a survey of YouTube content carried out by Burgess and Green, this type of video has been amongst the most common type of user-generated content on the platform (2009, p. 43). Around 2013–2014, there were approximately 400 user-generated videos1 in relation to Wong’s films on YouTube. Amongst these 400 works, nearly half could be considered mash-ups, followed by around 100 short films, and a small number of film reviews and other genres such as edited trailers/ teasers, plus candid videos generated at film events. One recurring aspect in fan/cinephile mash-ups associated with Wong Kar-wai is the choice of alternative music selected by video makers. One of the most revisited music genres is Anglo-American “indie,”2 which has elements of DIY, evident in its lo-fi and minimalist sound, as opposed to the typical sleek grandeur of the output of the commercial pop music industry (Fonarow, 2006, p. 39). Songs adopted for Wong Kar-wai mash-ups are mostly associated with female vocalists or musicians presented as collectives. Melancholic moods reflected in songs’ lyrics resonate with the characters in Wong’s early movies. Music from bands such as Portishead, Broadcast, Burial, and the XX has all been combined with contemplative/cinephilic moments from Wong’s films which have been highlighted by critics and fans as sequences internalizing characters’ feelings. These include moments when a character smokes, and the recurring stairway walk of the two protagonists in In the Mood for Love. Visual elements are often selected/edited to match the pace of the music with characters’ movements. One example is a mash-up of sequences from In the Mood for Love and Portishead’s “Undenied” by a video maker going under the name of Safeye (2006). In this case, sequences from the film are smoothly edited in accordance with the slow tempo of the music. The mash-up focuses on the shared 1 These are videos that are not explicit marketing materials found via traditional media, excluding clips taken directly out of a film. 2 The term is used here to identify music used in the mash-ups that resonates with the characteristics identified in literature on indie music (cf. Azerrad, 2002; Fonarow, 2006; Hibbett, 2005).

130 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

feelings of Mr. Chow (Tony Leung) and Mrs. Chan (Maggie Cheung). During the instrumental intro of the song, the mash-up shows Mr. Chow at his newspaper office smoking, followed by a dark shot of him walking up the stairs (to rent a flat in which he meets Mrs. Chan). Subsequent shots of the two show Mrs. Chan’s smile, seen through a reflection in the mirror, while Mr. Chow is in the same room, writing while holding a cigarette in his hand. The first part of the lyrics begins along with sequences of Mrs. Chan with a glass in her hand staring out of a window and Mr. Chow smoking in a corridor. The lyrics of the music, about “undenied” desire, connect with the unconsummated relationship between the two characters. Half way into the mash-up, there is a shot of Mr. Chow’s spouse walking into a room where a group of people are playing mahjong, including Mrs. Chan’s husband. This is followed by Mr. Chow walking out of the room. This scene from the film offers a pivotal clue to the affair between Chow’s spouse and Chan’s husband. The camera focuses on Mr. Chow’s tie (later referred to in the movie by Mrs. Chan as being the same as her husband’s). At this point, the lyrics describe an inability to “hide” the “bare” heart, wondering where it “belongs.” Loosely following the narrative of the film, sequences of Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan meeting at the side of the street (often to discuss and re-enact their partners’ affairs) are correlated with the lyrics, “How can I carry on?” The mash-up ends with shots of Mr. Chow’s cigarette smoke rising to a fluorescent light, and of him closing a door. The idea of “mashing up” elements in this fan-made music video coincides with how the term “mash-up” is used in the contemporary music industry, where it suggests a “hybrid work” (Sexton, 2007, p. 7) created by combining music samples. New content comes from isolating parts of existing works and editing and combining them with other pieces to create a collage which turns the process of consumption into production. On YouTube, the notion of a collage can also extend to the video’s blurb and comments, which shape the overall meaning of these mash-ups. Of the 17 comments on Safeye’s In the Mood for Love/“Undenied” mash-up, hailing from the US, Mexico, Poland, and the Philippines, 14 praised the “perfect” and “nice” combination of elements. Various posts revealed emotional responses that had been generated through the combination of commenters’ favourite works, e.g. “i love this song and in the mood for love […] incredible together” (elenalovesxjapan) or “i love both […] portishead […] and this amazing movie” (luni.ro). Correlations between film and music were commented on by different users; they were both felt to be “depressing” (Bluzme), and it was suggested that the music fitted “perfectly with the emotion of these two people [Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan]” (Emgee78).

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

131

Safeye (2009) also produced another mash-up with sequences from Happy Together (1997) and the track “Island” from an electronic indie band from Germany, the Whitest Boy Alive. Both Portishead’s and the Whitest Boy Alive’s tracks along with Wong’s films share similar cultural positions, either at the cultish end of commercial indie music in the early 1990s, or the popular end of art house film. The video speeds up iconic sequences from Happy Together to correlate them with the pace of the music. The visuals are not edited in strict chronological order and rely on the music’s lyrics to tell a story. The lyrics of the song, about isolation and being left alone by a lover, again connect with selected visuals from Wong’s film, including a black-and-white dimly lit Tango bar, an empty street, and saturated-colour sequences of characters alone in various places. Similar to responses to the first video, the majority of users commented on the appropriate combination of film, music, and editing, acknowledging the agency and authorship of the video maker.3 For example, Maria Alexandra Candeias offered a long comment on the “unexpected” meeting “somewhere out there” between one of her favourite Norwegian musicians based in Germany and her “favourite Asian director.” Viewed in relation to Virginia Kuhn’s discussion of remix content as “a digital utterance” or “argument” (2012, para 1.5), these early fan mash-ups combining scenes from Wong’s films with alternative music reveal a kind of discursive formation or “indie” taste homology between film and music. The borrowing of Western “indie” music with a cultish bent could be seen as fans’ recognition of a “transcultural homology” or symbolic match between the different objects, texts, and tastes. Developed from Paul Willis’s theory of “cultural homology,” the term “transcultural homology” was used by Matt Hills (2002) in his work on how Western fans adopted and mediated the notion of the otaku, a Japanese word for people obsessed with anime, manga, video games, or computers and, in a pejorative sense, being social outcasts. Initially the label otaku was used to pathologize fans of popular culture in Japan, but in the Western context, otaku has been positively transformed to become a badge of cultural distinction for those having knowledge of non-mainstream cultural objects. In the context of YouTube mash-ups associated with Wong, the recognition of a subcultural taste homology between a Hong Kong “indie” movie and British/European “cult” 3 These comments include “[a]ce combo” (emantle, UK), “[i]t goes together so well” (arallen04, US), and “great work, good timing with the cuts” (ulaowkmte, Australia). There is also one user who “love[s]” the director and the band but is “not sure” about the combination (Safeye, 2009).

132 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

or “indie” music from the 1990s has formed a kind of “fan canon,”4 shaping the reception of other mash-ups associated with Wong. As a result, videos that use music that deviates from or problematizes this fan canon are often marginalized. This includes mash-ups using a far more “popular” music track such as Snow Patrol’s “Set Fire to the Third Bar” set to In the Mood for Love, which was commented on as being “tasteless.” While the commenter did not give any further explanation, when contextualizing this response in relation to other comments on mash-ups associated with Wong’s films, the soundtrack choice evidently deviates from genres or texts that would be classified as belonging to the previously established taste culture paradigm. Participation in auteur culture here means enacting a form of taste distinction among film and music fans, which functions to expand audiences for the Hong Kong director. Contra the Anglo-European framing and genre/taste homologies of early fan mash-ups, by the 2010s a series of off icial music videos from K-pop bands had also drawn explicit references to Wong’s movies. A comparison between these two sets of videos reveals expanded groups of crossover fans and the appropriation/interpretation of Wong’s aesthetics for commercial functions. Accompanied by extensive fan responses, each music video has its own micro-ecology of comment-driven discourses that are related to film and music culture as well as location-specific and sociocultural circumstances. In 2014, the musical group Beast (now known as Highlight) released a single called “Good Luck” with an opening video sequence that drew direct references from Wong Kar-wai’s 2046 along with making a textual reference to Chungking Express. In an interview with South Korea’s news site Newsen, the music video director explained that he took inspiration from Wong’s movie, remarking that he wanted to shift away from the European or Japanese sentiments in a lot of K-pop music videos. Hong Kong movies of the 1990s, particularly his personal favourite, Wong’s 2046, coincided with Beast’s lyrics, thereby allowing him to pay “homage” to the film (KurStore, 2014). In this instance, the agency of a fan is combined with that of a professional music video creator, linking Wong’s movies to one of the largest, most successful pop music industries of the past decade. 4 The notion of “fanon” or a canon generated by fans has been developed in the context of fan fiction. The account of fans by Karen Hellekson and Kristina Busse (2006) discusses the communal nature of fan production and consumption of fan works, instead of individual/ private responses. Fans engage in canon formation by both selecting and excluding fan works as part of the accepted “fanon.”

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

133

Unlike the archetypal mood of indie music, the R&B sound of Beast’s song is highly distinct from the soundtracks of Wong’s movies. The music video addresses this by staging a homage to Wong at the very beginning via a different, more operatic tune. This part is used to set up the story of a man being heartbroken after witnessing, through the gap in a hotel room doorway, his female partner with another man. The construction of a set intended to homage Wong’s film featured a room number on the door showing the letters 2046. The shot inside the room showed a man taking a high heel shoe off a woman sleeping on the bed, resonating with an analogous scene in Chungking Express. As this part ends, the rest of the music video is then a combination of a hip-hop/sci-fi scene with Las Vegas neon signs in the background while the band stages a dance sequence and a re-enactment of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. The video received mixed reviews. A self-declared American K-pop fan remarked that the music video was “a hot mess,” particularly for combining things that were “not aesthetically compatible” (YellerVan, 2014). Nevertheless, a Hong Kongbased fan expressed his extreme appreciation for the references to “a Hong Kong film (which is not a Kungfu film)” and described the opening scenes as intriguing, contributing to “a very one-of-a-kind K-pop music video” (Spreadingkpoplove, 2014). More unified comments/appreciations of references by K-pop bands to Hong Kong films and Wong Kar-wai can be found in relation to other music videos. For instance, a single called “Wind Flower” by the female retro jazz-influenced band Mamamoo was released in 2018. Mamamoo has been described by fans as South Korea’s most “trusted and respected girl group” and is known for its “high quality music,” which elevates the band members to the status of artists rather than commercial idols (YamaChan, 2018). The “Wind Flower” music video takes viewers back to a pre-digital time as the opening sequence presents one of the singers putting a cassette into a pink tape player. The intro tune begins with the band members walking around the streets of Hong Kong at night, contemplating a breakup. The story then cuts to individual singers in their own spaces as days pass, before ending with a party involving all the group’s members. In the contemplative section of the music video, each singer is allocated a setting and activities that are highly reminiscent of characters in Wong’s movies. The short-haired singer, Jung Whee-in, is seen sprawling on her bed and looking through a fish tank, imagery that resonates with the actions of Faye Wong in Chungking Express. Another singer, Moon Byul-yi, is shown brooding at a restaurant with bowls of noodles and sharing a colour palette similar to those in Fallen Angels.

134 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

This original music video on the band’s YouTube channel had over 25 million views from 2018 to mid-2020. An LGBT content producer, Lez Be Happy (2018), also created a video essay designed to explain all the connections between Wong’s films and Mamamoo’s music video. This response video begins with a series of taxi scenes from Happy Together, In the Mood for Love, and 2046, described as Wong Kar-wai’s “trademark.” Other elements listed include the influence of Christopher Doyle’s camera work, the Mamamoo music video’s use of Wong’s colour palette, similar props (a clock and an aquarium), and one of the video’s locations (the underground McDonald’s venue featured in Fallen Angels). Apart from this response video, different YouTube channels also shared the K-pop music video, generating their own views and comment clusters. Amongst the themes discussed on the posting of the video by the 1theK channel were its highly underrated aesthetic and the quality of the song in comparison to those of other K-pop bands. Another prominent discussion was the music video’s connection to Hong Kong as a city. For instance, the commenter F. T. noted that as someone who lives there, s/he never knew that it “could look so beautiful” (F. T., 2020, in 1theK, 2018). Responding to this comment was a European who lives in the United States and “had the pleasure of visiting Hong Kong a few times,” highlighting that it would be a place they’d choose to live but remarking on the territory’s political turmoil and hoping that F. T. would stay safe (Liz TurtleRabbit, 2020, in 1theK, 2018). Others chimed in to express solidarity with Hong Kong, one of whom also included a notable hashtag, #MilkTeaAlliance (Wo000hh, 2021, in 1theK, 2018), referring to the expression of support amongst various fans of pan-Asian pop culture and yaoi series for those who had been the target of pro-Chinese media fans in 2020. As well as more politically aware fans, comments on the official music video also drew attention to the song’s lyrics, which promoted women’s selfesteem and LGBT expressions (Mamamoo, 2018). Piali Mondal distinguished Mamamoo’s music from other K-pop break-up songs, suggesting that the song distinctly empowered women to let things go and to heal themselves (Mondal, 2021, in Mamamoo, 2018). The taxi scene in the music video was also viewed as a direct reference to Wong’s Happy Together re-enacted by the singer Solar, who leans her head onto the shoulder of another female singer, Moonbyul (Elizabeth, 2021, in Mamamoo, 2018). In the same thread, no. expressed her love for the video’s progressive content and her excitement for all the “shippers” of these two singers who discuss them as a couple under the combined fan name of “moonsun” (no., 2021, in Mamamoo, 2018). Elizabeth also noted the importance of Happy Together as “one of the most celebrated LGBT films of the city” (Elizabeth, 2021, in Mamamoo, 2018). These responses

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

135

resonate with a tradition in mash-up and fan videos that these can be adopted and used as a way to challenge dominant ideas of gender politics and taste cultures (Booth, 2012). Francesca Coppa has described this fan strategy of production as a way “to heal wounds created by the marginalization, displacement, and fragmentation of female characters” (cf. Coppa, 2008; Hill, 2009; Jenkins, 1992). While the video does not explicitly position itself as a form of cultural critique, fan discussions interpret it as such. Through such paratextual assemblages, being a fan of Wong Kar-wai and/or Mamamoo is a form of cultural distinction with a sociopolitical valence. The symbolic universes of Wong’s films and K-pop music have been further extended and hybridized by other bands, additional fan recognition, and regionally specific content producers.5 Another relevant work is a single by the female singer Suzy, who is a transmedia star in Korean pop culture, featuring in the South Korean Netflix original series Vagabond (2019). Accompanying a song titled “Yes, No, Maybe,” Suzy’s music video was shot in Hong Kong and used formal elements drawn from Wong’s films, including the iconic style of intertitle deploying a white font on a red background. An Australian website making video essays on Asian film and media, Filmed in Ether (2017), further created a mash-up of Suzy’s song with matching sequences from Wong’s various movies. After positive feedback, the channel did more mash-ups of K-pop content and Asian films with intertextual aesthetics, such as making links between the Korean hip-hop single “Lies” by Mad Clown (2016) and Hou Hsiao-hsien’s Millennium Mambo (2001) (Filmed in Ether, 2019). Wong Kar-wai was cited again in the video that compared Twice’s music videos with references from Chungking Express and Love Letter (1995) (Chau, 2018). These expanded works illustrate broader pan-Asian intertextual citations that both affirm the canon of established auteurs such as Wong Kar-wai and establish specific taste homologies, as well as shifting authorial discourses associated with film history to focus on fans’ own identities – such as the Mamamoo “shippers” and on regional collectivities linking Mamamoo fans with political activism in East Asia and Hong Kong, such as “Proud of Hong Kong” (C. Jan, 2021, in 1theK, 2018) or We stand with HK #MilkTeaAlliance (Wo000hh, 2021, in 1theK, 2018) mentioned earlier. As the domain of (para)textuality and fan participation has expanded, auteur culture has also proliferated through various material productions. I will consider this in the next section. 5 In a thread on Reddit asking about “film inspired kpop videos,” Wong Kar-wai was mentioned as an example in relation to Sistar’s “I Like That” (Ailander, 2018).

136 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Official Auteur Collectibles, Print-on-Demand Markets, and Thrift Shop Mediations Following “new cinephilia,” the interest in film objects has stretched to an ever-wider array of artefacts, including the availability not only of soundtrack CDs but also limited-edition/standard vinyl releases. In relation to Wong Kar-wai, the marketplace of products for fans has been occupied by a number of companies. Regarding the popular fan mash-up of Portishead’s track “Undenied” with Wong’s film sequences that I described earlier, in 2004 Universal Distribution released a CD titled Memories of Sound & Light: Unofficial Wong Kar Wai Songbook featuring tracks from Wong’s key films as well as Portishead’s Glory Box (Amazon.fr, n.d.). Despite many of the songs featured in Wong’s films being made available on YouTube and other streaming sites, the market for collectibles strongly related to his films was clearly expanding. In 2016, it was announced that special editions of soundtracks from his past four films would be released on vinyl and Super Audio CD, along with “never-before-seen stills,” as part of the 25th anniversary of Wong’s production company, Jet Tone (Tsui, 2016, para. 1). To commemorate the success and history of the company, the idea of this transmedia promotion was adopted to extend the auteur’s brand. Official Wong Kar-wai collectibles such as a “Special Edition Notebook” from Moleskine were released on the occasion of the 40th Hong Kong International Film Festival in the same year that Jet Tone celebrated its 25th anniversary. The notebook could be imagined by fans to be an extension of diegetic objects used by characters in Wong’s movies, such as Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung), who writes professionally (for newspapers) and also as a substitute or displacement for a love affair when he later collaborates with Su Li-zhen/Mrs. Chan (Maggie Cheung) on martial arts novels in In the Mood for Love. Noting in the film festival catalogue that the product “pays tribute to acclaimed film director Wong Kar-wai,” the design of the notebook acted as an extension of Wong’s aesthetic traits, using red for the cover with the director’s acronym “WKW” printed in gold. Considering the high-end brand positioning of Moleskine, which prides itself as “the heir and successor to the legendary notebook used by artists and thinkers over the past two centuries: among them Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway and Bruce Chatwin” (Moleskine, n.d.), the correlation between these figures and Wong Kar-wai places him, as well as purchasing film fans/ cinephiles, in the elevated paradigm of the artist-thinker. A related transmedia extension of auteur culture, again working through material products, was also taken up for the premiere of Wong’s Hollywood

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

137

film My Blueberry Nights in 2009 in partnership with the boutique T-shirt brand “Opening Ceremony.” The design of the T-shirt featured the names of the locations – California, Nevada, Tennessee, New Mexico, and New York – that the protagonist visited in the movie (Fashionisto, 2017). In an extended imagined narrative, these T-shirts could conceivably be something that the character bought along the way. From a marketing viewpoint, the expansion of the auteur’s textual universe into collectible objects reveals the commercialization of auteur-related memories and auteur brand identifications that paradoxically pride themselves on exclusivity. Nevertheless, these products by associated brands were careful to negotiate the divide between art and commerce. The boutique T-shirt brand with a fitting name was sold as part of the ticket to attend the film’s premiere, and the revenue from Moleskine notebooks was donated to the Hong Kong International Film Festival “in support of the local film industry” (HK International Film Festival Society, 2016, p. 37). Apart from official branded products, the growth of authorship discourse through material culture has also been contributed to by artists/fans in different locations. Around the early 2000s, several manufacture-on-demand or print-on-demand websites were set up as online markets for fan artists to share and monetize their works. These sites included Redbubble, Society6, and Etsy. By the 2010s, all of these sites featured multiple products with Wong Kar-wai-related designs. Addressing fandom as a marketing strategy, Redbubble positioned itself as a meeting point for “independent artists” and “adoring fans.”6 The auto-generated images of models sporting different products feature men and women in their 20s–30s with various looks and styles. Despite limited works relating to East Asian cinema in general, Redbubble has 225 designs by 79 artists in relation to Wong Kar-wai specifically as of mid-2020. The majority of these works are slight redesigns and reworkings of iconic moments from the films, or different versions of film posters. The reconfiguration of Wong’s authorial aesthetics can be found through the selection of certain iconic images, figures, and the reworking of colour palettes to be either bright and poppy, or pastel. One particular example is an edit of the Chunking Express poster by Dani-design; this has the bright yellow pineapple at the centre of the image and a background of grey sky (Dani-design, n.d.-a). Another fan work is a drawing of the Days of Being 6 Founded in 2006 in Australia, Redbubble has a list of everyday products which designers can choose to have their artworks printed on, such as T-shirts, hoodies, mugs, tote bags, wall art, and, more recently, non-medical facemasks (Redbubble, n.d.).

138 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Wild poster by the artist Moviemadness, rendered in different shades of green and highlighting cigarette smoke and a clock and character figures (Moviemadness, n.d.). When considering these products in the context of each designer’s own artworks, Wong’s films are circulated along with art from action and kung fu genre films from Hong Kong (Moviemadness, 2017) or alongside designs from Indiewood movies such as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) and Good Will Hunting (1997) (Dani-design, n.d.-b). Exploring themes across the many designs, these works tend to expand Wong’s universe into the realms of pop art and pop/cult film canons. Another interesting strand of work involves designs that expand the existence of diegetic matter such as transforming the Sing Man Yit Pao Daily News from In the Mood for Love (OnassisYumul, n.d.) and the Midnight Express from Chungking Express (QuickShotGunman, n.d.) into T-shirt designs. Both are places that the protagonists of Wong’s films have worked for or spent a lot of time contemplating. By searching, purchasing, and wearing the T-shirt, fans can express their fan identity to others through subcultural capital as well as experiencing a sense of somatic film experience beyond cinematic visuals and soundscapes. Considering other sites that the artist OnassisYumul has chosen, such as Mystic Pizza (derived from the 1988 film of the same name), St. Elmo’s Bar from St. Elmo’s Fire (1985) or Seaside Motel or Shîsaido môteru (from the Japanese film released in 2010), these designs work to expand film narratives into wearable objects, displaying what Rebecca Williams has referred to as “haptic fandom” (2020, p. 80). This type of fan activity invokes the somatic experience that fans have when viewing a film that goes beyond the visual encounter but remains an affective bodily experience. Williams offers useful background on studies that have begun to explore haptic fandom (see Williams, 2020, pp. 80–81). Grounded in fan studies, Matt Hills’s work highlights the aspect of haptic control over images when fans engage in transmedia experience with replica “diegetic objects” that can “be touched and photographed as well as purchased” (cited in Williams, 2020, p. 81). Significantly, this “haptic dominance” allows for “the discovery of minutiae that could pass unnoticed or unrecorded onscreen” (Godwin, in Williams, 2020, p. 81). This resonates with Catherine Russell’s writing on the cinephilic mode of reading objects in In the Mood for Love by paying attention to collectible things such as the handbags or the food pail of Mrs. Chan, thereby revealing the agency of cinephiles over the industry’s gaze (2012, pp. 120–121). Objects from melodrama (particularly those of classical Hollywood films associated with the male gaze) are discussed in relation to discourses of cinephilic desire. A shift away from the gaze to the

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

139

affective domain can be found in product advertisements that encourage cinephiles to create “the look” (Joyrich, in Russell, 2012, p. 120). Instead of the imagined and unfulfilling cinephilic desire associated with the film’s materiality, in the context of today’s participatory culture then T-shirts, amongst other items inspired by Wong’s films, can be easily ordered and owned through the internet. For Williams, the creation of objects by the transmedia industry, such as Disney’s wearable MagicBands, leads to a conversation on the labour of fans in generating data for the company while wearing the device (2020, p. 83). In the case of various objects available on print-on-demand websites, the process of haptic engagement is not without data collection by tech companies, who also regulate the pricing and products available to be printed on. Nevertheless, when contextualizing this process in relation to authorship debates, such fan-desired objects give visibility to the microauthorship of individual artists/designers/illustrators – diverse product creators from various transnational and transcultural contexts. A number of designers provide links to their own portfolios, such as the artist ShahS1221 from Malaysia, who has produced a portrait of Maggie Cheung’s character from In the Mood for Love and introduces herself as “Sharon. 24. Illustration major graduate. Aspiring concept artist/graphic designer” (ShahS1221, n.d.). Rohanchak from Nagpur, India, has produced a cartoon of Faye Wong dancing, inspired by Chungking Express, and introduces himself as “Cartoonist, illustrator, creator of Green Humour (a cartoon for wildlife and nature conservation)” (Rohanchak, n.d.). Another artist, Emari Pedersen, who created a stylized sticker of Faye Wong, introduced herself as a “27 year old fledgling artist from Sweden” (Pedersen, n.d.). Significantly, this younger generation of creative fan-entrepreneurs take part in the exchange of data/ labour through their public visibility. Within the ecology of film culture, their contributions help to extend film memories and auteur culture into the realm of participatory culture and haptic fandom. The following example explores the marketplace on- and offline and the use of fan networks to generate attention to second-hand clothes which had initially started as a playfully textual-material piece of storytelling. In Manila, the Philippines, two friends followed by a group of young supporters appropriated Wong’s aesthetics in an unusual way – this time, for a thrift shop brand called “Banquetta.” The brand went viral in 2018 as Unreel reported on its memes with the headline “This ‘In the Mood for Love’ Parody is the Goto Nirvana of Memes” (Dela Cruz, 2018). Titled “In the Mood for Lugaw,” the memes are a series of photos published on the brand’s Facebook page (Banquetta, 2018) which have subsequently attracted broader attention

140 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

and been reported on by different internet community sites (see Coconuts Manila, 2018; Celera, 2018). The online “look book” was created through a series of choreographed photos depicting a Filipino woman wearing different clothing (a cheongsam, a coat, and vintage dresses) looking self-consciously lonely and stopping at different street stalls while searching for some lugaw, a local rice congee. Shot around the streets of Binondo, Manila’s Chinatown, the images depict scenes of the local culture with a takeaway food cart, a veggie stall, a side-street restaurant, a convenience store, etc. The caption for each photo is written in “beki” gay slang, creating humour based on mixing the style and character of Wong’s films with local situations. Coconuts Manila (2018) published the photos along with their translated captions. For example, the photograph of the young Filipino woman in a cheongsam, standing on the street looking deep in thought, is featured with the caption: “[Someone’s being mugged on the sidewalk.] Oh no, where’s my wallet tho?” As she walks down steps with a wall painted in red and neon road signs in the background, the woman looks directly into the camera with the caption: “Jk, I forgot it at home the same way you forgot about me.” The attention given to queer humour and the search for lugaw extends the framing of Wong’s films into hyper localism, low-cost glamour, and retro culture. When asked about the creative force behind these memes, their cocreators described themselves as Just two gay guys who studied Advertising and PR from PUP (Polytechnic University of the Philippines). One works in media and battles the daily struggle of picking the right outfit, the other, unemployed and is still going through post-grad existential dread, both wanting to ease the brooding and inevitable mundanity of daily life, by excessive thrift shopping and movie binging. (Dela Cruz, 2018)

After the success of their first collection, Banquetta followed up with a series of look books, including A Clockwork Orange (1971), Pulp Fiction (1994), Fallen Angels (1995), Happy Together (1997), and Lost in Translation (2003). The brand also started a pop-up shop at the Escolta Block Festival with thrift items advertised such as “In the Mood for Lugaw Bowls” and “Pop f iction” shot glasses. Resonating with Jonathan Gray’s discussion of audience-created paratexts that can reveal both industry-intended meanings as well as alternative values that “call for subtle changes in interpretation” and open “new paths of understanding” (Gray, 2010, pp. 146–147), each of the materials produced in relation to Wong’s films

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

141

in this section reveals the fluidity of auteur culture as it is fused, say, with upmarket boutique branding or localized creativity around Manila’s sidewalks, aka bangketa.

Film Location Pilgrimages and Spatial Reproductions Since the early 2000s, fan and cinephile culture have seen an increased interest in visiting film locations and sharing experiences in, or connected to, these places. The practice of visiting film locations as a way to engage with film authorship and East Asian cinema is not new; early writings on East Asian film by historians and critics were sometimes shaped by living in, working in, or frequently visiting the specific locations where the filmmakers were based (see, for example, an obituary reflecting on Donald Richie’s time in Japan [Fackler, 2013] and David Bordwell’s [2011] account of frequently visiting the Hong Kong International Film Festival). Beyond writing about films, many critics joined regional/local film festivals and paid visits to filmmakers, while also exploring local film distribution markets and film receptions. Notable examples in relation to East Asian cinema are Jonathan Ross’s visits to Japan, Hong Kong, and South Korea to interview film auteurs for the three-part BBC TV series Asian Invasion first aired in 2006 (Desmond, 2015) at the height of the East Asian cinema phenomenon in the 2000s. Ross began the first episode with the Japanese greeting “konnijiwa” as he walked the streets of Tokyo. The Shibuya crossing, made famous in 2003’s Lost in Translation, was shown while the critic-cum-presenter proposed an argument that Japanese cinema at the time was “the most exciting in the world.” Ross cited the classic auteur name of Akira Kurosawa and more recent cinephile fascinations with Beat Takeshi Kitano’s “extremely extreme films” along with notable films such as the anime Akira (1988). The selection of movies highlighted the combined cultish and auteurist appeal of titles which had shaped the reception of Asian cinema in the UK and the US at that time. Ross talked about Japan as marked by memories of its past (shown through footage of a man pulling a cart with piles of long wooden sticks on it, along with other items that looked like a hawker stall) while simultaneously projecting itself as “a leading style-setter in world cinema” (depicted through a woman walking with a UV umbrella, and a man with long purple hair sporting a glittery golden top and carrying a hand fan). This kind of critical-authorial experience framed through the lens of national cinema was repeated in subsequent episodes.

142 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

In the second episode, Ross was seen on a pier awaiting a ferry crossing and on the streets of Hong Kong where he described the circumstances of Hong Kong cinema. References were made to Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, and John Woo, along with Tsui Hark and Yuan Wu Ping as names known by movie fans in the 1970s through to the mid-1990s. The condition that Hong Kong was to be handed back to China in 1997 was described as a time when big name action stars migrated to Hollywood. Ross remarked that fans, including himself, “mourn the inevitable demise of the Hong Kong f ilm industry.” Yet before long, new star talents and new directors emerged; Hong Kong was introduced, rather similarly to the case of Japan, as “the place to look for state-of-the-art cinema.” Ross interviewed director/ actor Stephen Chow and Wong Kar-wai. The latter was featured towards the end of the episode as Ross switched to talk about Hong Kong drama. Wong was introduced through the ideas of “retro décor, chic clothes, and elegant lounge music.” The director talked to the camera while wearing his iconic sunglasses and discussing Hong Kong as a city that “moves very fast” and eats “its own history.” Locations, places, dresses, and people’s manners were all mentioned as things that the director and his team wanted to capture. The same theme of Ross walking around the city continued in episode three, focused on South Korean cinema. The show’s formal structure (highlighting the importance of understanding the history, f ilm industry developments, and the localities that had shaped f ilmmakers’ works) resonated with a long-standing trope in writings about East Asian film authorship in relation to accurately perceiving the cultural geography of these filmmakers. This kind of auteur framing differs signif icantly from the next generation of location-based paratexts that have been generated by f ilm fans, and which focus on their pilgrimage experiences. While there are many pilgrimage videos available on YouTube, a particular group of works I would like to examine feature the phenomenon of Thai film fans visiting Hong Kong. While cinephiles may hunt down specific filming locations, transmedia fans can also travel to experience the re-creation and remediation of their memories of diegetic content through things such as film-inspired restaurants. In 2010, a transmedia storyteller/filmmaker Nawapol Thamrongrattanarit, who had been making a name for himself in the publishing industry, published a pocket book detailing his pilgrimage to trace Wong’s film locations in Hong Kong. The aim was to create a guidebook with alternative venues beyond those of the temples and shopping malls known to Thai tourists at the time. The book was advertised through a short film trailer which matched scenes in Wong’s films featured in the

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

143

book with a song from the soundtrack of Chungking Express, “California Dreamin’” by the Mamas & the Papas. The book subsequently sold out, and inevitably led to a series of fans following in Thamrongrattanarit’s footsteps, before then sharing their stories online. The writer went on to become a cult filmmaker in his own right with followers in Thailand and Asia, and he continues to pay homage to Wong Kar-wai in his feature films and interviews (Promkhuntong, 2018). In 2018, a respected film magazine among Thai cinephiles called Bioscope, whose editor has since become a film distributor, published a special issue called “Kratum-kwamwong,” a phrase that was used by Thai urban youths to mean “being in the Mood like in Wong’s films.”7 As a catchphrase used as hashtags at various social media sites and by a community of film fans on Facebook, the term “kratum-kwamwong” has come to embody the sense of being a fan of Wong Kar-wai, as well as a way to represent the sentiment of the country and region under sociopolitical repression (for more on this fan performativity, see Chapter 6). As regards the wider creation of paratexts related to Wong Kar-wai, the term was adopted by Bioscope for a special issue celebrating 30 years of his work as a filmmaker (See Mahaneeranon, 2018). The issue commissioned self-declared fans to write about Wong’s films, which were described as influential for many creative writers and artists in the country. Amongst the series of articles and interviews were work by Thamrongrattanarit and Book-Panthornpat and Boat-Thunthornwit. The latter two brothers founded a Hong Kong/Wong Kar-wai-inspired family-run restaurant, Sukimefamily. The interviewer describes their first encounter with the restaurant as like being transported into Wong Kar-wai’s films, complete with the lighting, furniture, décor, and a soundtrack of songs by the Mamas & the Papas in the background. The interview provided a story of love for the cinema and food, particularly the Thai variant of a hotpot called “suki.” Attention was paid to the moment that both founders were inspired to set up the restaurant after watching Chungking Express and In the Mood for Love. The two brothers subsequently took a trip to Hong Kong and visited the Goldf inch Restaurant featured in In the Mood for Love. Remarking that the aesthetic experience they wanted was more about the restaurant in the film than the actual place, both continued to try local food places and subsequently combined film aesthetics with their own Hong Kong-inspired food journey. Sukimefamily has since been joined by a myriad of eateries and bars inspired by Wong’s films in Bangkok and 7 Thanks to Assoc. Prof. Natthanai Prasannam for providing me with a copy of this special edition magazine.

144 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Southeast Asian cities, although it is the only one featured in the special edition dedicated to film fans. Other places in Bangkok featured on restaurant review websites as exuding a Wong Kar-wai environment include Ba hao, In the Mood for Love Sushi Bar and Bistro, FooJohn Building, and Maggie Choo’s, many of which are located in the international trade district and newly gentrified part of the city. In these locales, Wong Kar-wai’s auteurist vision has been reformulated beyond the transmedia fannish experience into entrepreneurial ventures conveying a feeling of hipness and internationalism. Such restaurants could also be interpreted as being part of the wider trend for nostalgic old-town regeneration (modelled after old colonial towns in Asia such as Penang) combined with the contemporary Chinese cultural revival. Emerging alongside the hipster trend for café culture, driven by young cosmopolitan Thai-Chinese, Wong Kar-wai’s associations with the cosmopolitan city of Hong Kong and modern Shanghai have been seen as a way to target the cultural and social capital of the younger generation of Thai-Chinese at the same time that Thai socio-economics have been largely driven by Chinese businesses. Dubbed the “Wong Kar-wai effect” (Sutthavong, 2018), these cultural elements by way of Hong Kong stylization and Western individualism are arguably a type of distinction formed in the image “of the Chinese nouveau riche” (Sutthavong, 2018). Broader associations between Wong Kar-wai, Hong Kong, and refined transnational Chinese culture also saw the borrowing of Wong’s name to illustrate ideas of art and craft among the young creative class in Bangkok. In 2019, the annual art and craft fair by the Faculty of Architecture at King Mongkut’s Institute of Technology Ladkrabang was organized under the theme “Art Wong: Art Street.”8 The poster for the fair featured a studio photograph of two young Chinese-Thai couples dressed up in glamorous clothing with red noir lighting, surrounded by retro Chinese-style room decoration (Thailand Exhibition, 2019). At the actual event, the concert stage and craft stalls were replete with elements of Chineseness. Unlike the series of artworks associated with the community of Wong’s fans who borrow the films’ aesthetics to express general sentiments of loneliness, alienation, and political repression, this fair fused the idea of Wong Kar-wai with a new “cool China” sentiment (Sutthavong, 2018). While the fair did not ultimately address Wong’s films or East Asian cinema in any direct way, the use of Wong’s name in a themed title reveals the strong impact that his films have had for an entire generation of the young creative class 8

Thanks to Dr. Graiwoot Chulphongsathorn for pointing me to this exhibition.

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

145

in Bangkok and in other places such as the Philippines. In these instances, the idea of Wong Kar-wai has been reworked over time, mixing fans’ identities, media interests, taste cultures, and sociopolitical/economic contexts. This multiplicity of authorial functions within and beyond the context of cinephilia and national/regional film fandom highlights both the changing forms of auteurist participations through paratextual creation and the brand-extended ubiquity of today’s auteur culture.

Conclusion This chapter has drawn attention to the expanded practices – beyond those operating in direct connection with film funding, exhibition, and distribution – that have fostered contemporary auteur culture and the transnational status of East Asian cinema across the last decade. The chapter has traced forms of paratexts created by crossover fan groups in relation to one of the most highly celebrated East Asian filmmakers, Wong Kar-wai, using different media in different locations over time, including textual appropriations and associations with music culture from indie to K-pop; the creation and curation of various collectible items that extend the universe of the films into material culture; and an engagement with film locations through fan pilgrimage and through the (re)creation of sites inspired by imaginative journeys through the films as well as travel experiences. While the case of Wong Kar-wai could definitely also be explored through the contexts of film festivals and film distribution, the various forms of informal storytelling, pop cultural paratextual creation, and lifestyle activities that all relate to this director have allowed for an exploration of the importance of transmedia ecology and participatory culture in fostering an authorial career well beyond film industry networks. This kind of exploration also reveals the growth of micro-authorship across different fan groups with followers arguably celebrating more diverse types of authorial figure today. Examples illustrated in this chapter include the members of the start-up content creator collective Filmed in Ether, whose multi-platform content (such as a mash-up between a K-pop video and Wong Kar-wai’s films) bridges pan-Asian films with the music and media industries. A number of video essays from the team also celebrate auteur culture across different industries and connect this with their own brand. Micro-authorship is also growing across different forms of media sites, including the production/experience of material and spatial culture. The chapter discussed various artists who have used print-on-demand platforms

146 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

such as Redbubble and Society6 to advertise and sell their fan works to be printed onto merchandise. This eclectic engagement with affective/fannish auteur culture moves freely across media platforms and can also be found through its articulations in the organization of pop-up events and café/ restaurant designs. As I concluded work on this chapter, a friend who knew that I’ve been following Wong Kar-wai fan culture sent me a video interview and an introduction to a newly restored building turned café/restaurant called “Nuan” in Vientiane, Laos.9 The Chinese-Laos mixture of culture with an emphasis on the 1970s era was highlighted. Throughout the café’s introduction video,10 In the Mood for Love’s Yumeiji theme was used as the background track as the camera cut between the owner talking and shots of the restaurant ambience. There are framed posters of two sequences from In the Mood for Love visible as key decorative pieces. Apart from the café, the venue is also available for pre-wedding photo shoots or Chinese New Year portraits that celebrate panAsian Wong Kar-wai-esque aesthetics.11 The creation of such sites mentioned earlier in the chapter appears to greatly resemble this café – all these iterations evidence the growth of vernacular cultural sites that simultaneously celebrate canonical auteurism and micro-authorship within the material incarnations and spatial paratexts of contemporary transmedia film culture. *** In the first part of this book, then, I have highlighted the way in which contemporary auteur culture (r)evolves around the production, distribution, and re-circulation of paratexts shaping the awareness of individual filmmakers, collaborators, and supporters over time and in different locations. In the book’s second part, I will highlight how filmmakers themselves respond to, and engage with, the circumstances shaping their public presence through paratextual production. This process is facilitated by digital filmmaking technology, internet culture, and the opening up of platforms through which to exhibit and distribute texts beyond feature films, e.g. video arts, short films, essay films, audiovisual portraits, making-of videos, online interviews, and introduction clips, among others. I am particularly interested in the growing number of (para)texts generated as a part of film releases and in-between work on feature films. These 9 Thanks to Dr. Chairat Polmuk to sharing this video with me. 10 See https://www.facebook.com/lines.mag.laos/posts/3783934001657827. 11 See https://www.facebook.com/callme.nuan/.

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

147

can be both promotional materials and commercial products as well as individual artworks, allowing filmmakers to express their authority and negotiate the stakes of auteur culture, as well as inviting co-creative others to join in. Such works reveal a mode of self-expression, an argument, a point of view that may have been left out of associated feature films, such as conversations on nationality, locality, and transnational positioning, as well as other affective and discursive framings of an auteur in relation to the cast and crew. But these paratexts also reveal a wider transmedia culture of public personalities and the celebrity/star side of film authorship. As filmmakers have become global brands, or in Corrigan’s term “auteur-stars” (1990, p. 48, 1991, p. 105), paratexts open up spaces for engagement with representations of them across media and for participatory interaction with existing discourses that have shaped their works. Each f ilmmaker that I’ll examine has drawn on their own modes of f ilmmaking and creative practice to establish and negotiate their cultural position. The different types of paratexts examined in Chapters 4, 5, and 6 are associated with the three f ilmmakers who have already been discussed in the f irst part of the book. These are the self-reflective experimental short f ilms of Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Kick the Machine members; cult star-auteur performances and self-projected confessions in relation to Kim Ki-duk; and chains of attractions and embodiments in relation to Wong Kar-wai. In my Part II case studies, discourses of authorship engage with the idea of an “authentic” self and a living person behind an auteur’s globally recognized f ilms, as well as engaging with the stardom/celebrity culture that draws attention to the public persona of each f ilmmaker.

Works Cited 1theK. (2018, November 29). [MV] MAMAMOO(마마무) _ Wind Flower. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8NCOA2bK6k&ab_channel=1 theK%28%EC%9B%90%EB%8D%94%EC%BC%80%EC%9D%B4%29 Ailander. (2018). Film inspired Kpop videos? [Online forum post]. Reddit https:// www.reddit.com/r/kpophelp/comments/8b8g24/film_inspired_kpop_videos/ Amazon.fr. (n.d.). Memories of sound & light: Unofficial Wong Kar Wai songbook. [Album]. https://www.amazon.fr/Memories-Sound-Light-Unofficial-Songbook/ dp/B01G7OK502 Azerrad, M. (2002). Our band could be your life: Scenes from the American indie underground. New York: Little Brown.

148 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Banquetta. (2018). BANQUETTA season one. In the mood for Lugaw (2018). [Image attached] [Status update]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/banquettaph/ posts/banquetta-season-onein-the-mood-for-lugaw-2018view-outtakes-herehttpbitlybanque/460929824325213/ Barthes, R. (2008 [1968]). The death of the author. In B. Keith Grant (Ed.), Auteurs and authorship: A film reader (pp. 97–100). Malden and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing. Bettinson, G. (2015). The sensuous cinema of Wong Kar-wai: Film poetics and the aesthetic of disturbance. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Booth, J. P. (2012). Mashup as temporal amalgam: Time, taste, and textuality. Journal of Transformative Works and Cultures, 9 (Special issue, Fan/remix video). http:// journal.transformativeworks.org/index.php/twc/article/view/297 Bordwell, D. (2011, January 18). Planet Hong Kong: One more visit. http://www. davidbordwell.net/blog/2011/01/18/planet-hong-kong-one-more-visit/ Brunette, P. (2005). Wong Kar-wai. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Burgess, J., & Green, J. (2009). YouTube: Online video and participatory culture. Cambridge: Polity Press. Celera, L. (2018). This cute look book mixes sarcastic humor and Wong Kar-wai. Scout. https://www.scoutmag.ph/style/cute-look-book-mixes-sarcastic-humorwong-kar-wai-lex-20180508 Chang, J. (2016, June 21). From my friends @leeisaacchung and Valerie Chung, the world’s first children’s book about animals and Wong Kar-wai. [Tweet]. Twitter. https://twitter.com/JustinCChang/status/745302893964648448/photo/1 Chang, J. (2020, January 7). Commentary: “The 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles”: Bong Joon Ho rightly calls out Hollywood myopia. Chicago Tribune. https:// www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/movies/ct-ent-subtitles-parasite0109-20200107-dchcnhgj7nhl5fp4qlcnqgv6uy-story.html Chau, H. (2018, May 4). Twice x Asian classics: A side-by-side video comparison. Filmed in Ether. https://www.f ilmedinether.com/video-essays/ twice-x-asian-classics-a-side-by-side-video-comparison/ Chin, B. (2007). Beyond kung-fu and violence: Locating East Asian cinema fandom. In J. Gray, C. Sandvoss, & C. L. Harrington (Eds.), Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world (pp. 210–219). New York: NYU Press. Coconuts Manila. (2018, May 10). VIRAL: Online thrift shop parodies “In the Mood for Love” with Filipino subtitles. https://coconuts.co/manila/news/ viral-online-thrift-shop-parodies-mood-love-filipino-subtitles/ Coppa, F. (2008). Women, Star Trek, and the early development of fannish vidding. Transformative Works and Cultures, 1. http://journal.transformativeworks.org/ index.php/twc/article/view/44. Corrigan, T. (1990). The commerce of auteurism: A voice without authority. New German Critique, 49, 43–57.

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

149

Corrigan, T. (1991). A cinema without walls: Movies and culture after Vietnam. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press. Criterion. (2016, November 29). What Wong Kar-wai taught Barry Jenkins about longing. Current. https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/4328-what-wongkar-wai-taught-barry-jenkins-about-longing Cunningham, D. (2008). “It’s all there, it’s no dream”: Vertigo and the redemptive pleasures of the cinephilic pilgrimage. Screen, 49(2), 123–141. Dani-design. (n.d.-a). Chungking Express poster. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble. com/i/poster/chungking-express-by-dani-design/36036005.LVTDI Dani-design. (n.d.-b). Dani-design. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/people/ dani-design/shop Dela Cruz, A. (2018, May 7). This “In the Mood for Love” parody is the Goto Nirvana of memes. Unreel. https://web.archive.org/web/20200802075220/https://unreel. ph/news/in-the-mood-for-love-lugaw-parody/ Desmond, P. (2015, June 14). Asian invasion – Episode 1: Japan. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9M5X0Uk24ms Desser, D. (2005). Hong Kong film and the new cinephilia. In M. Morris, S. Leung Li, & S. Ching-kiu Chan (Eds.), Hong Kong connections: Transnational imagination in action cinema (pp. 205–222). Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. De Valck, M., & Hagener, M. (Eds.). (2005). Cinephilia: Movies, love and memory. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Erbland, K. (2017, February 6). Lush new video essay compares “Moonlight” with the masterworks of Wong Kar-wai – Watch. IndieWire. https://www.indiewire. com/2017/02/video-essay-moonlight-wong-kar-wai-1201778524/ Fackler, M. (2013, February 20). Donald Richie, 88, American expert on Japan, is dead. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/20/world/asia/ donald-richie-american-expert-on-japan-is-dead-at-88.html Fashionisto. (2017, October 21). “My Blueberry Nights.” https://www.thefashionisto. com/my-blueberry-nights/ Filmed in Ether. (2017, February 8). Suzy – “Yes No Maybe” x Wong Kar-wai. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHYK4WvxLww Filmed in Ether. (2019, February 28). Mad Clown – “Lie” x Millennium Mambo [Video attached] [Status update]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/filmedinether/ videos/2122418947780860/ Fonarow, W. (2006). Empire of dirt: The aesthetics and rituals of British indie music. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press. Freeman, M. (2016). Industrial approaches to media. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Grant, C. (2013). How long is a piece of string? On the practice, scope and value of videographic film studies and criticism. [Presentation at the Audiovisual Essay Conference, Frankfurt Filmmuseum/Goethe University]. Filmstudies for Free.

150 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

http://filmstudiesforfree.podbean.com/2013/12/18/howlong-is-a-piece-of-stringon-the-practice-scope-and-value-ofvideographic-film-studies-and-criticisma-talk-by-catherinegrant/ Gray, J. (2010). Show sold separately: Promos, spoilers, and other media paratexts. New York: New York University Press. Hellekson, K., & Busse, K. (2006). Fan fiction and fan communities in the age of the internet. Jefferson and London: McFarland & Co. Hibbett, R. (2005). What is indie rock? Popular Music and Society, 28(1), 55–77. Hill, K. (2009). “Easy to associate angsty lyrics with Buffy”: An introduction to a participatory fan culture: Buffy the Vampire Slayer vidders, popular music and the internet. In M. Kirby-Diaz (Ed.), Buffy and Angel conquer the internet: Essays on online fandom (pp. 172–196). Jefferson: McFarland. Hills, M. (2002). Transcultural Otaku: Japanese representations of fandom and representations of Japan in anime/manga fan cultures. [Conference proceeding]. Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Cambridge, MA, United States. https:// cmsw.mit.edu/mit2/Abstracts/MattHillspaper.pdf HK International Film Festival Society. (2016). Moleskine at the 40th Hong Kong International Film Festival. In The 40th Hong Kong International Film Festival programme & booking folder. Hong Kong. Huang, Z. (2017, February 28). The side-by-side comparisons that show how a Hong Kong director influenced “Moonlight.” Quartz. https://qz.com/920627/ the-side-by-side-comparisons-that-show-how-hong-kong-director-wong-karwai-influenced-oscar-winner-moonlight/ Jenkins, H. (1992). Textual poachers: Television fans & participatory culture. London and New York: Routledge. Keathley, C. (2006). Cinephilia and history, or, The wind in the trees. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Keller, S. (2020). Anxious cinephilia: Pleasure & peril at the movies. New York: Columbia University Press. Khamis, S., Ang, L., & Welling, R. (2017). Self-branding, “micro-celebrity” and the rise of social media influencers. Celebrity Studies, 8(2), 191–208. Klinger, B. (2010). Becoming cult: The Big Lebowski, Replay culture and male fans. Screen, 51(1), 1–19. http://screen.oxfordjournals.org/content/51/1/1.abstract Kuhn, V. (2012). The rhetoric of remix. Journal of Transformative Works and Cultures, 9 (Special issue fan/remix video). http://journal.transformativeworks.org/index. php/twc/article/view/358/279 KurStore. (2014). [TRANSCRIPT] 140712 director Lee GiBeak – “BEAST, an uncommon loyal group.” [Image attached] [Status update]. Facebook. https://www.facebook. com/226664480711008/photos/a.226671257376997/797979436912840/?type=1 &theater

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

151

Lau, D. W. S. (2020). Chinese stardom in participatory cyberculture. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Lee, A. (2021). In the mood for loneliness and longing: How Wong Kar Wai depicts emotion. BFI. https://www.bf i.org.uk/features/mood-love-wong-kar-waiemotion Lee, E. (2018, July 11). 10 films, 30 years – Wong Kar-wai movies ranked from good to great, from As Tears Go By to The Grandmaster. South China Morning Post. https://www.scmp.com/culture/film-tv/article/2154813/10-films-30-years-wongkar-wai-movies-ranked-worst-best-tears-go Lee, S. W.-m., & Lee, M. (Eds.). (2017). Wong Kar-wai: Interviews. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi. LexisNexis. (n.d.). Micro Star v. Formgen Inc. – 154 F.3d 1107 (9th Cir. 1998). https:// www.lexisnexis.com/community/casebrief/p/casebrief-micro-star-v-formgen-inc Lez Be Happy. (2018). Mamamoo’s “Wind Flower” and the Wong Kar-wai Connection ( feat. MoonSun). [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=UfcOPxhXDMY&t=61s Loos, T. J. (2007). Fair use and the digital millennium copyright act. Michigan Telecommunications and Technology Law Review, 13(2), 601–616. Mahaneeranon, T. (Ed.). (2018). Bioscope, Kra-tum-kwam Wong, Special issue, 186. Bangkok: Mono Generation Co., Ltd. Mamamoo. (2018, November 29). [MV] 마마무(MAMAMOO) – Wind Flower. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOZ2r_UAfdc Marinacci, A. (2017, January 28). Moonlight and Wong Kar-wai. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66cIeb_nNO4 Moleskine. (n.d.). About us. https://us.moleskine.com/en/about-us Morimoto, L. H. (2013). Trans-cult-ural fandom: Desire, technology and the transformation of fan subjectivities in the Japanese female fandom of Hong Kong stars. Journal of Transformative Works and Cultures, 14. Morimoto, L. H. (2018). Ontological security and the politics of transcultural fandom. In P. Booth (Ed.), A companion to media fandom and fan studies (pp. 257–275). Hoboken: John Wiley and Sons. Moviemadness. (2017). Moviemadness. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/ people/moviemadness/shop Moviemadness. (n.d.). Moviemadness. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/i/ poster/Days-of-Being-Wild-by-moviemadness/38913542.LVTDI Ng, J. (2005). Love in the time of transcultural fusion: Cinephilia, homage and Kill Bill. In M. de Valck & M. Hagener (Eds.), Cinephilia: Movies, love and memory (pp. 65–81). Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Nochimson, M. (Ed.). (2016). Companion to Wong Kar-wai. Chichester: Wiley Blackwell.

152 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

OnassisYumul. (n.d.). Sing Man Yit Pao Daily News essential T-shirt. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/Sing-Man-Yit-Pao-Daily-News-byOnassisYumul/30476257.FB110 Pedersen, A. (n.d.). Emari Pedersen. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/ people/emariannorde/explore?page=1&sortOrder=recent Pett, E. (2021). Experiencing cinema: Participatory film cultures, immersive media and the experience economy. London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic. Promkhuntong, W. (2015). Cinephiles, music fans and f ilm auteur(s): Transcultural taste cultures surrounding mashups of Wong Kar-wai’s movies on YouTube. Participations: Journal of Audience & Reception Studies, 12(2), 255–274. Promkhuntong, W. (2018). Why so Wong: Transnational Asian cinema through the lens of cinephiles and transmedia fans. In A. H. J. Magnan-Park, G. Marchetti, & T. See Kam (Eds.), The Palgrave handbook of Asian cinema (pp. 427–449). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Promkhuntong, W. (2019). Pilgrimage to a memory hole: Towards an affective study of fan tourism in Asia via Angkor Wat and Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love. Plaridel: A Philippine Journal of Communication, Media, and Society, 16(2), 23–40. QuickShotGunman. (n.d.). Midnight Express graphic T-shirt. Redbubble. https://www. redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/Midnight-Express-by-QuickShotGunman/32816417.1YYVU Radakovich, R. (2020). The love for cinema undergoing transformations: Internationalization and cosmopolitanism patterns of Uruguayan cinephiles. In V. Cicchelli, S. Octobre, & V. Riegel (Eds.), Aesthetic cosmopolitanism and global culture (pp. 201–221). Leiden and Boston: Brill. Raup, J. (2017, February 5). See the influence of Wong Kar-wai on “Moonlight” in side-by-side comparison. The Film Stage. https://thef ilmstage.com/ see-the-influence-of-wong-kar-wai-on-moonlight-in-side-by-side-comparison/ Redbubble. (n.d.). Our story. https://shareholders.redbubble.com/site/about-us/ our-story Rohanchak. (n.d.). Rohanchak. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/people/ rohanchak/shop Rosenbaum, J., & Martin, A. (Eds.). (2003). Movie mutations: The changing face of world cinephilia. London: BFI Publishing. Russell, C. (2012). In the mood for cinema: Wong Kar-wai and the diasporic phantasmagoria. In S. Balcerzak & J. Sperb (Eds.), Cinephilia in the age of digital reproduction, Volume 2: Film, pleasure, and digital culture (pp. 111–130). London and New York: Wallflower Press. Safeye. (2006, October 29). In the Mood for Love – Undenied. [Video]. YouTube. https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMKnqdn_Xlg&ab_channel=safeye

Tex tual, Material, and Spatial Participations in Tr ansmedia Auteur Culture

153

Safeye. (2009, January 26). Wong Kar Wai’s Happy Together + The Whitest Boy Alive’s Island *New track from Rules. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=4Sixh4p1kWA&ab_channel=safeye Semaine de la Critique. (n.d.). Wong Kar-wai. https://www.semainedelacritique. com/en/directors/wong--kar-wai Sexton, J. (Ed.). (2007). Music, sound and multimedia: From the live to the virtual. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. ShahS1221. (n.d.). ShahS1221. Redbubble. https://www.redbubble.com/people/ ShahS1221/shop Sontag, S. (1996, February 25). The decay of cinema. New York Times. https://www. nytimes.com/1996/02/25/magazine/the-decay-of-cinema.html Spreadingkpoplove. (2014, June 19). BEAST’s “Good Luck” music video review/ interpretation. [Blog post]. Wordpress. https://spreadingkpoplove.wordpress. com/2014/06/19/beasts-good-luck-music-video-reviewinterpretation/ Stein, L., & Busse K. (2009). Limit play: Fan authorship between source text, intertext, and context. Popular Communication, 7(4), 192–207. Sutthavong, A. (2018, February 16). Cool China. Bangkok Post. https://www.bangkokpost.com/thailand/special-reports/1413014/cool-china Tambling, J. (2003). Wong Kar-wai’s Happy Together. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Teo, S. (2005). Wong Kar-wai. London: BFI Publishing. Thailand Exhibition. (2019, January 18). Art Wong: Art Street 2019. https://www. thailandexhibition.com/Event-77/28993 Trice, J. (2015). Manila’s new cinephilia. Quarterly Review of Film and Video, 32(7), 611–624. Tsui, E. (2016). Special editions of Wong Kar-wai soundtracks mark 25 years in filmmaking. South China Morning Post. https://www.scmp.com/culture/music/ article/1999545/special-editions-wong-kar-wai-soundtracks-mark-25-yearsfilmmaking VCinema. (2020). We hope our readers practice proper social distancing while California Dreaming. [Image attached] [Status update]. Facebook. https:// www.facebook.com/vcinema/photos/a.110811599686/10157989535829687/?ty pe=3&theater Williams, R. (2020). Theme park fandom: Spatial transmedia, materiality and participatory cultures. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. YamaChan. (2018, April 25). Why MAMAMOO is Korea’s #1 most trusted and respected girl group (BeLisMaMoo). [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=53KOOculcAU Yap, S. (2017, March 1). Comparisons between Moonlight and Wong Kar Wai films show striking similarities. Asiaone. https://www.asiaone.com/entertainment/

154 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

comparisons-between-moonlight-and-wong-kar-wai-f ilms-show-strikingsimilarities YellerVan. (2014, August 31). Rediscovering BEAST through drama. [Blog post]. K-Brain. https://theskyissoveryblue.blogspot.com/2014/08/rediscovering-beastthrough-drama.html

Part II Text, Body, and Performance among East Asian Star-Auteurs

4. Co-creating an Assemblage of Selves through Commissioned Artworks Abstract: Paying particular attention to the growth of commissioned short film and video art as part of the network of paratexts that fosters transnational auteur culture, this chapter examines artworks made in-between feature films which also function as paratexts created and performed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul and his collaborators. The formal elements in these works, shaped through different intertextual connections, experiment with different filmmaking strategies and collaborations to allow the exploration of a self-reflexive auteur persona. Embraced by fans and circulated on different platforms over time, the creation and re-circulation of these short films/paratexts illuminates the filmmaker’s way of strategically locating himself within local sociopolitical contexts and global f ilm and art worlds. These materials also offer a glimpse of future exploration on authorship that engages more with the process and practice of co-creation. Keywords: short film, performance, persona, self-reflexivity, co-creation

Expanding out of the process in which the knowledge of a filmmaker as an auteur has been formulated through various practices and paratextual creations by institutional and cinephilic agents, as discussed in Part I, this and the following two chapters explore filmmakers’ own ways of responding to their assigned authorial positionings, and to the changing conditions shaping their lives and works. I am particularly interested in the way individual filmmakers choose their own mode and medium of self-projection in response to the positioning of them as public figures along the lines of a star/celebrity. Each of my three representative filmmakers responds to their authorial reputations in vastly different ways. Focusing on the Thai filmmaker/intermedial artist Apichatpong Weerasethakul, this chapter pays particular attention to the use of commissioned short films and a

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch04

158 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

self-projected interview as ways to negotiate a sense of self with long-term collaborators in various contexts. Chapter 5 discusses the self-confessions and performative excess of Kim Ki-duk which reveal performative strategies to develop cult authorship amidst the context of controversies and subsequent media call-outs. Chapter 6 expands the focus on directors’ self-projections to the championing of a celebrity auteur via self-branding, collaborations with transnational fashion industry and high-end brands, as well as fan embodiments of Wong Kar-wai star-auteur persona. Subsequently, these three chapters signal the close ties between film authorship, the development of self-projection in the art world, and star/persona/celebrity studies in today’s media landscapes. In relation to Southeast Asian cinema, the digital boom and lower budgets required to make short films have been seen as important factors in fostering the early careers of new filmmakers in the region (Baumgärtel, 2012, p. 7). Significantly, short filmmaking has also been a way to express creative freedom from the constraints of local censorship (Deocampo, in Khoo, 2014, p. 36). In the context of Thailand by the turn of the millennium, national short film production was on the rise. The Thai Short Film and Video Festival was established in 1997 by the Thai Film Foundation “founded in 1994 by a group of film activists to promote the film culture in Thailand” (Asia-Europe Foundation, 2011, para. 1). Participated in by Weerasethakul and key cinephiles, the festival was a site for the International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR)’s programmer to scout for new “talents.”1 Alternative forms of cinema also gained attention from curators and intermedia artists. With the Thai curator Gridthiya Gaweewong, Weerasethakul curated the Bangkok Experimental Film Festival in 1997. In the same year the Bangkok International Art Film Festival, where the director worked as a jury member, was established. As international f ilm festivals, galleries, and cultural organizations increasingly opened up programmes and commissioned short films, this alternative format of cinema became an avenue for economic support for filmmakers. This kind of funding has been noted as a source of income alongside feature films for Weerasethakul (Subyen & Watcharathanin, 2010, p. 206). Within the context of global short film exhibition and curation, the Internationale Kurzfilmtage Winterthur (International Short Film Festival, in Winterthur, Switzerland) hosted a panel discussing the future of short 1 The terms “talent” or “talented filmmaker” are used persistently in the IFFR promotional materials, including those associated with Weerasethakul, such as on the introduction page of the Hubert Bals Fund website (IFFR, n.d.).

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

159

film in 2014. The conversations were later made available in a special issue of OnCurating (Canciani et al., 2014). Contributors were representatives of film festivals spotlighting short film in their programmes. In this environment, short film was located beyond being merely a practice format for filmmaking students or a stepping stone to make feature films, and was viewed instead as a format that has “always played a major part within the avant-garde of the audiovisual arts” (Canciani, 2014, p. 6). As the making of a short film does not have to follow market demands, this allows filmmakers to more markedly assert their personal and political agency (Canciani et al., 2014, pp. 11–12). These positionings resonate with writings on short film in relation to Weerasethakul. Focusing on the political dimension in short films’ thematic and formal experimentations, Jonathan L. Owen (2014) has discussed the subjects of labour and migration explored in the short films of Andy Warhol, Chantal Akerman, and Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Locating Weerasethakul’s short films and video installations within wider contemporary Thai art, David Teh relatedly explored ideas of mobility and travel in Weerasethakul’s expanded cinema, linking them with the nirat travel writing trope in Thai literature which has been adapted by contemporary Thai artists “to make otherness count” (2017, p. 107) These examinations of short f ilm and expanded cinema illuminate Weerasethakul’s body of work in relation to its artistic experimentations and sociocultural implications. As auteur-owned works beyond the larger scale of feature films with their different stakeholders, these short films also allow the examination of authorial voices that may not be highlighted/ included in feature films. The proliferation of short films in Singapore, for example, allows for the exploration of expanded authorship such as the women’s films and queer cinema discussed by Olivia Khoo. Drawing on Tom Gunning’s notion of “minor films” adopted from the idea of “minor literature,” the positioning of short film as being “creatively parasitic” allows for the exploration of queer and female identities through formal elements (Khoo, 2014, p. 38). The positioning of short film as “minor” resonates with the way I am positioning short film as an auteur performative paratext that allows for the unpacking of multiple selves and the process of co-creation, as will be explored in this chapter. Importantly, as this alternative form of filmmaking has multiple functions in today’s film culture through its packaging as promotional material and exhibition as individualized artwork, short film – especially in relation to other forms of media – opens up further discussions regarding transmedia auteur culture. In this chapter, then, I explore the double role of short film as an art form for self-reflection and a paratext within the cultural economy and currency

160 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

of auteur culture. Existing ideas of performativity and self-projection associated with film authorship, generally discussed in relation to European art cinema, are revisited and expanded to explore the way that Weerasethakul and his collaborators negotiate their own senses of self through artistic experimentation and related public self-projections. This mode of selfprojection allows the f ilmmaker to problematize the promotion of his own “persona” as a monumental figure or a star-auteur, yet it also works to create a distinct persona coinciding with the canon of modernist artistry.

Paratextual Selves, the Mediated Persona, and an Auteur in the Making The idea of authorship that is self-consciously articulated by filmmakers through experimentation with the film medium has been explored in recent years by works that revisit and unpack canonical films from established European filmmakers to highlight their sense of self, not as a fixed authorial figure but as a performative agent and a person in the process of making films (see, for example, Sayad, 2013; Rugg, 2014). This idea, expanded upon in this chapter, has somewhat shifted attention from the creation, consecration, and circulation of a filmmaker as an auteur by institutional establishments, critics, and audiences, to the fluid roles that are performed and mediated by filmmakers and collaborators themselves. Drawing on Richard Schechner’s concept of “showing doing,” Cecilia Sayad’s monograph (2013) discussed the concept of performative authorship through different film genres such as documentary and the essay film and the way they reveal “the textual representation of their artistic processes” (Sayad, 2013, p. xxii). Cinema’s connections with first-person writing, painting, and performance are explored to unpack notions of “ephemerality, imitation, exteriority and masking” which highlight authorial voices and the capacity of the film medium to reveal the director’s “conscious mediations on their authorial roles” (Sayad, 2013, p. xxii). This approach can be connected to Linda Haverty Rugg’s, whose work on art cinema and directors’ “self-projection” draws attention to feature films that reveal a mode of autobiographical writing. Discussing films such as Persona (1966) by Ingmar Bergman and The 400 Blows by François Truffaut (1959), Rugg pointed to the way various filmmaking practices (such as the incorporation of the same cast and crew to extend and blur the boundary between fact and fiction, and meta engagements with the film format) expand processes of self-representation into the idea of “self-projection”

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

161

(2014, pp. 22–23). While Sayad separates the “extrafilmic” realm, associated with institutional construction, from the filmic exploration of “auteurs asserting their identities through the textual representation of their artistic processes” (Sayad, 2013, p. xxii), Rugg views self-projection as working in close connection to “paratexts” since this kind of first-person filmmaking needs to be understood through paratextual information provided alongside it, such as biographical information, interviews, reviews, etc. Engaging with these works, in this chapter I highlight the changing circumstances of authorial filmmaking in the transmedia era when different kinds of filmmaking in the first person/self-performance are made as both filmic and extrafilmic depending on circumstances of exhibition and circulation. Productively, short film/expanded cinema/intermedia work reveals the multiple roles of a filmmaker traversing between collaborators, artists, and performers, as well as an agent addressing their own positioning within different film markets. On the one hand, the auteur is located in the images of the short films and the production processes, highlighting the capacity of cinema to shed light on the self in relation with other cast/crew and filmic environments. On the other hand, these images can be located firmly within contexts of exhibition and distribution (i.e. the spaces of national/regional film commissions, film festivals, galleries, digital and material film distribution, and live audiences) making them paratextual to directors’ major feature films in an overall body of work. Hence, beyond their formal elements, I examine selected short films in the network of paratexts and transmedia circumstances that have shaped the positioning of the filmmaker as auteur. Short films explored in this chapter are chosen based on the works that draw attention to the figure of filmmaker while also revealing the roles of others who are part of that director’s life and work. All of the selected films have been screened on various occasions and included as part of the promotional materials for the director’s feature films. My analysis is divided into different forms of self-projection, each reflecting diverse circumstances of production and circulation. I begin with materials closely related to the director’s personal life through a home-movie made as part of a commissioned short film project from Weerasethakul’s early career. This communicates an affective sense of self between the camera man/the director and his family members in response to a nationalist discourse set up through the film’s thematic programming by the Thai Ministry of Culture to mark the 80th birthday of the late king of Thailand. Another example is a more direct form of self-projection, a staged interview in which Weerasethakul filmed himself recalling his memories of working with cast and crew along with self-reflective images taken during the making

162 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

of Tropical Malady. The exploration of self-projection is then expanded to a personal/experimental-cum-commercial project whereby the filmmaker was given a specially designed camera, the LomoKino Mubi edition, to experiment with and to promote. These cases all reveal various ways in which Weerasethakul has taken the opportunity to create short films while communicating a sense of self in relation to various agents, circumstances, and discursive framings. The final two sets of works to be discussed in this chapter focus on projects that Weerasethakul collaborated on with other filmmakers to portray the experience of living, making, and exhibiting films in Thailand. These include a semi-documentary about working in the forest with long-time crew members, and a short film expressing solidarity from Weerasethakul’s assistant director amidst threats of film censorship. Throughout these selected works, the director’s self-projections illustrate practices of self-reflexivity, or explicitly performative and artistic practices of self-reflection. These practices address the ontology of cinema as well as the ontology of the self as a filmmaker, both on- and off-screen. As will be explored, such practices share key characteristics with the works of modernist avant-garde filmmakers2 (see, for example, Maria Pramaggiore’s [1997] analysis of the “performance and persona” of director Maya Deren, and the work on self-reflexivity in European modernist cinema by Kovács [2007]). Grounded in the context of transmediality and transnational filmmaking, my analysis reflects on auteurist agency within the semi-autonomous field of cultural production where the filmmaker negotiates, through the presentation of himself, with dominant discourses shaping his work via commissioners and film markets. Additionally, the chapter also seeks to reveal the notion of authorship in relation to “co-creation” (Cizek & Uricchio, 2019; Auguiste, 2020; Zimmermann, 2020; Horvath & Carpenter, 2020) and “creative assemblage” (Mar & Anderson, 2010; Duff & Sumartojo, 2017), which relates to the way the filmmaker approaches the process of filmmaking, formal elements, and film exhibition through close relationships with different agents and environments. Under the “hybrid field study” project called “Collective Wisdom,” scholars and practitioners of the Co-Creation Studio at the MIT Open Documentary Lab introduced the term in relation to methods “within 2 As Pramaggiore has noted, the notion of avant-garde has been used to address many groups of directors and has sometimes been used interchangeably with experimental cinema. In the context of Weerasethakul, an association with avant-garde film mainly relates to his references to US-based avant-garde filmmakers, including Maya Deren (1997, p. 37).

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

163

media (arts, documentary and journalism) and adjacent areas of knowledge (design, open-source tech, urban and community planning” (Cizek & Uricchio, 2019, p. 1). Contributors to the lab identified four areas of co-creation, namely: 1) co-creation “within communities, in-person”; 2) “on-line and with emergent media”; 3) “across disciplines and beyond”; and 4) “between humans and non-human systems” (2019, pp. 6–8). Nevertheless, considering the term in the broadest sense, co-creation can be dated back to human civilization with records such as “the ancient art of rock carvings” that offer a glimpse of “alternatives to media projects sparked by single-author visions” (2019, p. 3). Discussing co-creation and creativity, Christina Horvath and Juliet Carpenter (2020) remarked that the term has since expanded from its usage in the 1990s in relation to “customer contribution to product and service development” (2020, p. 6) to an area of research focusing on knowledge contributions by the public to counter the social marginalization and limited knowledge production led by neoliberal policy and globalization since the 1980s (2020, p. 1). This dimension led to interests in collaborative projects involving artists and academics, as well as people in communities and in the public sector who have previously been left out of the process of knowledge production (for more, see the chapters in the edited collection by Horvath & Carpenter, 2020). In relation to film studies, the notion of “co-creation” has been discussed in the context of documentary filmmaking in the Afterimage dossier (Auguiste et al., 2020), which provides useful points to reflect in relation to a development of (post-)auteurism. Papers from the dossier particularly highlight the strong convictions of co-creation to challenge the traditional notion of authorship that focused on individual creative control and authenticity. Reece Auguiste, a founding member of the Black Audio Film Collective, explores “the philosophical turn” of co-creation that directly challenges the popularization of film authorship in film and media contexts which led to “the marginalization of the collaborative ethos that is at the center of film and multimedia production” (2020, p. 37). As will be discussed later in the chapter, the idea of co-creation also shares some commonalities with approaching filmmaking as a creative assemblage comprising a “temporary mixture of heterogenous material, affective and semiotic forces, within which particular capacities for creativity emerge, alongside the creative practices these capacities expressed” (Duff & Sumartojo, 2017, p. 2). Co-creation has been discussed as a kind of “paradise” that “reject[s] the single story” (Adichie, cited in Cizek & Uricchio, 2019, p. 4) or a kind of “utopian narrative” that promotes the democratic spirit of vertical (instead

164 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

of hierarchical relations) (Auguiste, 2020, p. 38). However, Auguiste adds that practitioners who are interested in co-creation “are not so naïve as to indulge in the thought that co-creation will replace auteur practice” (2020, p. 38). What his discussion offers is new areas to explore in relation to creative practices, including “technological affordances” (2020, p. 39), changing contexts of production, and the changing attitudes (or what Auguiste refers to as “the profound desire”) within the filmmaking communities “to be more inclusive, democratic, and dialogic; and less hierarchical, extractive, and exploitative in their practices” (2020, p. 39). Rather than a singular authorship, the discussion of co-creation embraces a collective process or what Auguiste refers to as “event” (drawing on the term by Alian Badiou [2013]) which “renders the hidden visible” (2020, p. 39). The above view further expands the existing discussion on collaborative authorship, which focuses on the way filmmaking has many “authored components” and, therefore, authorship should take into account “varying degrees of joint authorship,” including producers, scriptwriters, cinematographers, stars, etc. (Sellors, 2007, pp. 269–270). Zachary Sheldon’s (2020) exploration of the authorship of George Lucas that has been formed in close relation to digital technologies and associated agents as illustrated through selected paratexts touches on this potentiality for paratexts to shed light on the previously under-explored technological agents in authorial discourse. In the context of non-feature film works of Apichatpong Weerasethakul, which were commissioned by various institutions, made with both analogue and digital technologies, and screened in different environments, including as a part of marketing materials, co-creation opens up a consideration of agents who have and have not been part of the “filmic utterances” (Sellors, 2007, pp. 265–266) but play their parts in the director’s dialogic authorial identity. This dimension resonates with Auguiste’s discussion of a co-creative agent as “a new mode of being, knowing, and doing” (2020, p. 40). I engage with this concept and its related idea of creative assemblage alongside those of performative authorship and self-projections to reflect on a fluid auteur agency that negotiates with commercial discourses and media culture that continues to favour a consistent singular auteur/star persona.

From a Public Commission to a Personal Poetry The first short film I would like to draw attention to is Nimit (Meteorites) (2007) commissioned by the Office of Contemporary Art and Culture (MoC). The Thai name Nimit (meaning “premonitions often associated with a divine

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

165

intervention”) presents the director’s personal life as well as a public life “under the reign” of the king in response to the commissioner’s theme. In this short film, the focus is not on the semi-divine body of kingship and official images but on the ordinariness of lives in Thailand presented through the director’s family members going about their daily routines, including his mother waiting to give alms, his nephew at school, and the family going out for a meal together. The video opens with a morning scene of Weerasethakul’s mother waiting for the arrival of local monks (this same subject was discussed in relation to the director’s first childhood memory in Tiger Eyes in Chapter 1). Handheld shots seek to capture the ambience and environment, such as the concrete road his mother was waiting at the side of, a roaming dog, and the gate of the house. Movements, impressions, and memories are given attention more so than images of individual family members. One distinct example of this is when the director follows his mother doing her walking exercise, which mainly captures the tread of her white trainers and the movements of her trousers with their calming turquoise print. After some time, the camera pans to capture the moment of a car door being shut before panning towards Weerasethakul’s late father’s portrait, and then cutting to a family road trip with a joke being shared in the car. Interspersed between the family’s daily lives, there are observations of the natural surroundings, including the wind blowing in the trees as dark clouds gather, and passing scenery shot from the car window as the family talks in the background. These contemplative moments resonate with scholarly discussions on the essay film and its interest in “a detail, texture or moment that, in their resisting definitive meanings, dramatizes thought” (Corrigan, 2011, p. 15). While the short f ilm gives an overall sense of being a lyrical home movie, authorial interactions and interventions can be seen throughout. For example, in the moment where Weerasethakul picks up his nephew at school, the camera follows his nephew, who is clearly aware of being filmed and occasionally turns around to check if he is still on camera. After a short walk across the school building, the cameraman is told that this is enough filming already, resulting in laughter which makes the presence of the filmmaker heard. This brief voice cameo resembles similarly brief moments of the director’s self-inclusion on screen in other works, such as a brief glimpse of him panning the camera in Ashes (2012) and Mobile Men (2008), his role as an interviewer at the beginning of Mysterious Object at Noon (2000), and the visibility of his hand altering, changing, or covering the camera lens in various short films, including Mobile Men and Worldly Desires (2005). By making the process of filmmaking audible or visible, the

166 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

short film contains a layer of authorial “presence,” offering a moment of self-projection of the filmmaker at work. Towards the end of Nimit, Weerasethakul also shifts the film’s mode from a kind of cinema verité filmmaking to constructing a fictionalized world through the continuity editing of sounds of rain/water to bridge footage about his life at home and the lives shown on screen. This starts from verité moments of rainfall hitting the ground and car headlights driving through drizzle, followed by a dog walking through a puddle. Woven together through these sounds of water, the next shots are of two actors performing in front of a waterfall, captured instead from a television drama. The sound of water is further used to connect images of Weerasethakul’s partner sleeping peacefully with a superimposed aquarium complete with a shoal of fish and a stingray slowly swimming, making sparkling water bubbles. The short film ends with a grainy shot of a man walking on the beach with the sound of waves in the background. These instances move away from a cinematic poetic realism at the beginning of the video and veer further towards a dream state – something which has been one of the recurring motifs in Weerasethakul’s body of work. Thematically, the short film can be placed in relation to works that explore the director’s hometown and the memory of his mother and father such as 0116643225059 (1994), My Mother’s Garden (2007), and Luminous People (2007). Nimit also relates to short films that portray daily life in Thailand with different degrees of reflection on the sociopolitical context such as The Anthem (2006) and Ashes (2012). Like many of Weerasethakul’s short films, Nimit was later screened in different places with its meanings (re)shaped by contexts of distribution and reception. The film was part of the IFFR’s “Exploding Cinema: New Dragon Inns” programme, shown amongst videos and installation works by various East Asian filmmakers, including Tsai Ming-liang’s Is It a Dream? (2007) and Black Air (2008), a collaborative installation project by a group of Thai and Thailand-based artists/filmmakers, including Pimpaka Towira, who appeared in Weerasethakul’s Worldly Desires, to be discussed later in this chapter (IFFR, 2008). In Thailand, the video can be seen through the YouTube channel of the commissioner who has shared the film along with other commissioned works. The short film was also included in the DVD release of Weerasethakul’s first feature, Mysterious Object at Noon, by UK distributor Second Run. Each of these instances projected the short film as an auteur paratext in slightly different ways, locating the auteurist director in regional or national contexts. Weerasethakul’s company website further provides a family portrait by the beach and an essay written by the director that provide further authorial

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

167

self-reflection. With the black-and-white portrait of his late father (also featured in the short film) as the background of the webpage, the essay provides a contemplation on the process of deciding to capture images of his family for Nimit’s commissioner. The ideas of “happiness,” “simplicity and the value of goodness” are the concepts discussed in relation to the time in the director’s childhood, “waiting with my mother before the sky turned orange to give alms for the monks, or walking silently in the orchid garden, or watching the stars at night” (Weerasethakul, n.d.-a, para. 1). Subsequently, the filmmaker recalls his old home with an image of the late king which continues to be present as the family move to a new house. The director reflects on the changing “physical quality” of their royal portrait, with higher-definition and the more polished quality of digital formats over the years nevertheless further “manifest[ing] its opacity” (Weerasethakul, n.d.-a, para. 2). Deciding to capture a subject that he knows personally, the director ends the essay noting that he then decided to film “the subject that I know of: my life – my mother, my nephew, my niece, my brother, my sister, my lover, my dog, my room, my favourite landscapes, and other things including my light” (Weerasethakul, n.d.-a, para. 4) in place of the king’s unknownness. This piece of writing accompanying the presentation of the short film contemplates the process of image making, one’s relationship with photographs (and royalty, present only in the ritualized but evasive image), and one’s identity and lived sense of self. Along with the lyrical pacing of the short film, the affective process of self-reflection told through the written essay resonates with Rugg’s discussion of personal cinema, drawing on ideas from François Truffaut. With this mode of filmmaking, cinema becomes a form of diary, and spectators are the friends who get to know the filmmaker as a person, not only through their (para)textual films but also through additional paratextual layers of biographical and accompanying writings (Rugg, 2014, pp. 14–17). The e/ affectiveness of the image relies on the collaborative nature of filmmaking as well as the way that viewers can see themselves (potentially) reflected in the portraits of ordinary family life. Reviews of Nimit featured on Letterboxd, a social media site for cinephiles, highlighting a division amongst those who could see something of interest in Weerasethakul’s personal cinema, and those who could not connect with it. Bram Ruiter remarked that Nimit was “made by someone who knows how to evoke serenity and tranquility in the simplest of things. And to me it’s very nice to just tag along with this filmmaker on his trip while he shows us the neat things he noticed.” Ruiter further commented on the process of image making that “[f]ilm sometimes doesn’t have to be more than a selection of

168 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

those moments loosely strung together” (Letterboxd, n.d.). Addressing an awareness of the mixed reception of this kind of mundane home movie, V. Lepisto noted that the short film is “[u]niversally hated for being a project everyone think[s] they are capable of and perhaps they are but this is what dreams are made of.” As an audience member located in the context of Thailand, this short film connects the director’s memories with my own family gatherings, where family members would share the same car ride to find a scenic place for a weekend lunch, often a restaurant by the reservoir, or the beach near the city. The location featured in Nimit was mentioned in a synopsis in Thai published by the Thai commissioner as Ubol Ratana dam, which villagers dubbed “Pattaya” of Khon Kaen, the director’s hometown (สำ�นักงานศิลป วัฒนธรรมร่วมสมัย กระทรวงวัฒนธรรม, 2016). Written from a first-person viewpoint as a message from the director to the commissioner and Thai audiences, this account displayed a degree of local knowledge by identifying the Pongneep Dam (which had been renamed “Ubol Ratana” after the eldest daughter of the former king in 1966) (Egat, n.d.) as a special hang-out spot for families. While these images are simply about the poetics of everyday life, when taking into account the director’s statement on his own website and this particular synopsis (which also discusses the use of computer to manipulate the blue lighting at the beginning of the movie), there appears to be a certain degree of self-reflexive negotiations within the context of the film’s commissioner. Included in the DVD of Mysterious Object at Noon by Second Run, the authorial figure of Nimit is centred on Weerasethakul who is introduced on the cover as “one of contemporary cinema’s most unique voices.” Accompanying the DVD is a booklet with an introduction to the feature film by Tony Rayns and information on the restoration of the director’s debut movie with selected stills. The back cover of the booklet also features Weerasethakul’s portrait, taken as the director was looking at the camera while holding his own digital camera to take a picture, in turn, of the person capturing his portrait. Within the tradition of experimental cinema and visual arts endorsed by global film exhibition, self-projection holds a particular authorial stance. Linking the context of film with that of self-portraiture in paining, Cecilia Sayad discusses the contradictory nature of this kind of image as it puts the image of the artist at the centre and, at the same time, it contemplates the act of looking by the spectator and their sense of self-construction. Citing the work of Laura Rascaroli, Sayad notes that “the self-portrait was traditionally used as tool to present and demonstrate one’s skills to potential patrons; to ensure one’s artistic survival and recognition;

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

169

and to indicate one’s perception of his or her position in society” (Rascaroli, 2009, p. 176, cited in Sayad, 2013, p. 37). As part of a paratext to Nimit and Mysterious Object at Noon, this accompanying portrait is both an intimate scrutiny of the artist’s perception of the self and reflects his self-conscious existence of the medium of representation and public display. Thinking along these lines, in the age where anyone can share moments of their lives with their loved ones in the public domain using a digital camera or a smartphone, the idea of self-referential authorship can be abundantly created. Jens Ruchatz (2018) highlights the correlation of artists’ self-reflexive portraits in painting and analogue photography with that of a selfie, particularly when considering their shared idea that self-reflexive photographs “somehow refer to their own production process or the result of that process” (Van Gelder & Westeest, 2011, p. 190, cited in Ruchatz, 2018, p. 63). Nevertheless, the public discourse on a selfie at the height of its popularity around 2013 focused on the ubiquity of the smartphone and self-fashioning through filters, and the instant “share” through social media, all of which were seen in relation to the narcissistic self-representation and self-branding by those who alienate themselves from the presence of their surrounding (on this early debates, see Gunthert, 2018, pp. 35–43). To date, this pathological view of a selfie and self-image via digital devices has been expanded to other dimensions. Ruchatz’s work, for example, draws attention to cultural distinctions created around different kinds of selfie image. For example, a sub-genre of “the mirror selfie” (2018, p. 67) can be seen in relation to the tradition of self-portraits which adds a distinction through a more explicit self-reflexive element of making the camera and the act of taking a photo visible (more so than the type of hand-stretching selfie). Drawing attention to the landscape and the participatory aspect of the media, Christoph Bareither’s (2021) work sheds light on the affordances of space and digital technology that shaped audiences’ creative responses. For instance, selfies that were created at a memorial site and shared with others through the Instagram geotag tool can reveal “the ability to be acts of witness: as engaged responses, as demonstration of affect and as admissions of complicity and/or communion” (Douglas, 2017, p. 13, cited in Bareither, 2021, p. 586). When considering the networked environment of today’s home movies and selfies, Weerasethakul’s images of the self and his family members in Nimit are largely contained within the context of the local film commissioner and transnational film distribution networks. These images are therefore in dialogic positions with the aforementioned national-local framings and commercial-artistic reflections of one’s own position within the global screen economy.

170 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

The Staged Interview as a Form of Self-Reflection Interviews are one of the most common forms of auteur paratexts, often discussed in relation to the context of marketing instead of filmmaking and experimentation. The self-staged interview I would like to draw attention to in this section differs from a conventional interview at least in two dimensions.3 The first aspect is the format of the interview in which the filmmaker is the person on screen being an interviewee or an interviewer, and sometimes both at once. The underlying process of the interview is akin to another more common term, a “self-interview,” which has been explored in the context of social science research. Emily Keightley et al. illuminate how self-interviewing opens up an opportunity to address the role of media “for the purpose of self-representation” in everyday life (2012, p. 508). The second dimension that differentiates a self-staged or self-interview from a conventional interview is how the process of self-filming accommodates processes of remembering by allowing the everyday environment to be part of the conversation/self-presentation. Through the lens of memory studies and oral history, this mode of storytelling coincides with the operation of memory “not as a window on the past but as a reconstructive process of making sense of experience through talk” (Keightley et al., 2012, p. 508). The process allows the interviewer/interviewee to control the interview’s pacing, and incorporate objects such as photographs and songs to interact with their recollections. When applied to auteur filmmaking, self-interviewing turns a commercial paratext (particularly associated with the conventional interview) into a mediated form of self-reflection. This mode of performative authorship has been explored in relation to the reputation making of Pier Paolo Pasolini as a way to “guarantee […] the author full power over his own image because it allows him to double his voice as both interviewer and interviewee” (Annovi, 2017, p. 89). In the case of Weerasethakul, a self-interview allows the filmmaker to reflect on his sense of self as it has been formed through interactions with the medium of filmmaking and past experiences working with others. Given that his self-interview is set in the environment of the home or private space, this also gives audiences a glimpse of Weerasethakul’s personal life. In turn, this creates and mediates a feeling of intimacy between the filmmaker’s personal self and film fans. I have used the word “staged” for this self-interview in my analysis to particularly highlight the function of 3 Many thanks to Dr. Sarah Thomas for her suggestion to address the differences between these two types of interviews.

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

171

the self-interview, not only as a mode of gathering memory and recalling events but also as a performative artistic practice with intended audiences, i.e. film markets and film fans, in mind. In this context, the self-staged interview becomes part of the director’s body of work, with authorial imprints and experimentations incorporated into the formal elements and the narration. The interview was designed and filmed by Weerasethakul to be included as part of the release of Tropical Malady by Second Run in 2008. In it, the director recalls the personal yet collective process of filmmaking, while at the same time creating intertextual connections with his body of work through formal elements. The video opens with a black screen and a pre-recorded monologue: “If I have to say something about this movie.” Weerasethakul continues in a slow pace: I’d say it’s like others I’ve done that talk about memories. This one is more about love. It’s a mixture of my story and the actors’ stories. The filmmaking process created a hybrid movie […] mixing a director’s memories and other sources around at the time.

As the image gradually lights up, we see Weerasethakul sitting facing the camera with a sliding glass door behind him. Further in the background is a concrete driveway, followed by the foliage of plants giving privacy from the road behind. Occasionally, there are glimpses of cars and trucks passing in the background during the interview. In the house, and on Weerasethakul’s right-hand side, there is a computer monitor and a stack of DVD boxes. As Weerasethakul moves slightly when he talks, his reflection can be seen on the glass door behind him and as the conversation progresses then the light slowly gets brighter. The conversation and the setting of this interview subtly link to the filmmaker’s interest in experimenting with lighting as he revisits the process of making Tropical Malady. Shot in a dark forest, Weerasethakul talked about wanting to make night scenes as dark as possible to push at the limits of this visual creation. He eventually had to negotiate this artistic aim in the context of film exhibition, as many shots were too dark to be screened via television and had to be discarded. Discussing the “appearance and propagation of modernism” in relation to art cinema, András Bálint Kovács has highlighted the tradition of self-reflexivity in art/modernist cinema such as voice-overs that create a sense of autonomy in the process of filmmaking (2007, p. 218). Other forms of aesthetic process, such as the use of light and a glass door and mirror to perform literal self-reflection, work to facilitate self-reflexivity in Weerasethakul’s self-interview whereby

172 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

“the artificial nature of the artifact [image making, illusion] is laid bare” (Kovács, 2007, p. 224). Beyond the sense of self formulated by the director’s surroundings, the discussion of Tropical Malady as a “hybrid” project combining memories of the filmmaker and actors also further creates the idea of authorship as a process of dialogic conversation with the cast and crew. In the interview, Weerasethakul recalls meeting Tong (Sakda Kaewbuadee) while scouting for a team in the nightlife district of Bangkok. The director’s monologue is subsequently edited with various photos of Kaewbuadee, including his selfie on the set of Tropical Malady with another crew member in the background. The filmmaker then moves on to talk about Id (Banlop Lomnoi), who switched from working behind the scenes with the camera to being an actor, and the time it took for the two leads to get to know each other to play the role of lovers. Reflecting a common use of a prop for self-reflection, the image inserted on screen is of Kaewbuadee and Lomnoi on set in the forest looking into a mirror. Taken from behind them, this gives the impression of a mirror hanging in the forest; the image presents a layer of self-reflection involving the process of looking and being looked at. Blurring the self on screen and the extra-filmic self in real life, images and stories are shared of the two actors during their playful times on the film’s set. The director notes that the intimacy between the characters was formulated through a workshop, but also as they spent time together and shared a bedroom without the presence of the director. This staging of multiple selves and self-reflections with the cast and crew can also be found in another variation on a self-staged interview embedded within the behind-the-scenes featurette of Cemetery of Splendour. Highlighting the process of filmmaking, in the opening section, we see a f ilm slate on a wooden crate on the concrete floor with the crew walking around (the images captured only their legs and trainers). One person picks up the slate in front of the camera and the unseen speaker, in mid-conversation, asks if something has fallen off. In the next shot, we see the extras, some sitting, some standing, in front of a concrete building. They seem to be in natural positions but with minimal movement, as if staged for the camera. This image is shown along with a conversation between Weerasethakul and his long-term collaborator, Jenjira Pongpas (now Nach Widner), although we don’t see these two sitting and talking until later. The dialogue begins with the director’s recollections about Cemetery of Splendour, six months after it was released. We see the director for the first time via a shot taken from behind his back while he is looking at the monitor screen. At the same time, the voice-over tells us that this

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

173

“is one of [his] most personal films” as it was shot in his hometown. The collaborative work on set with Pongpas/Widner is shown before cutting to a home interview at her house. Creating an intertextual relation with the director’s other feature films and paratexts, the setting of the interview is in front of Pongpas/Widner’s house surrounded by plants. Later in the video, Weerasethakul sits facing the camera with a pot plant along with layers of things in the background. With the plant foliage in the earlier self-interview and other occasions such as on the Syndromes and a Century DVD released by the BFI, where the director talked with the Thai film critic Kong Rithdee in a garden, these backdrops function to create spatial intertexualities that connect an array of promotional paratexts with the director’s fascination with the symbiosis of human being and nature. 4 In the conversation with Pongpas/Widner (or “Aunt Jane” as addressed by the filmmaker), Weerasethakul recalls the process of writing the script with her in mind and meeting with her in the development process. The director then asks her about the feelings she had upon knowing that her life and conversation with Weerasethakul was being used to develop the script, “bringing herself into the public space.” This question latently reveals the process of script development with the shared authorship of the actor/collaborator as well as expressing the director’s awareness and concern regarding her private life being mediated on screen. Pongpas/ Widner responds that she did not think about the subject of public/private selves at all. She then offers her own reflection on the relationship with the director, noting that she was happy Weerasethakul thought of her so that she would have extra income. And she recounts her desire to give an interesting performance for the audience. Pongpas/Widner further reflects on the occasion when Simon Field, the producer, visited them on the set of Primitive and she discussed her concern with him that she may be a burden to Weerasethakul. The lead actress recalls Field reassuring her of her ability, which she found really touching. Widner recalled another experience in Bangkok when she was treated as someone who needed help even though she was coping fine with walking on her own. Regarding this situation, Weerasethakul provided further information to audiences that Pongpas/Widner had been involved 4 In an interview by Jeremy Liebman at the director’s home in Mae Rim, Chiang Mai, titled “Apichatpong Weerasethakul through the Trees,” the director also talks about “the need to link with nature, to link with the sky, and to bring the outside, inside.” This also coincides with having dogs and the difficulty to separate the space for them (2013, p. 81).

174 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

in a motorcycle accident which affected her ability to walk after finishing The Adventure of Iron Pussy, and before joining Weerasethakul again in Tropical Malady. Through this intimate conversation, the interview invites audiences to get to know the filmmaker through his relationships with the actor, producer, and other agents on set; weaving together various lives, selves, and bodies of works. The notion of authorship in these paratexts is therefore presented as a collaborative process and a symbiosis of multiple creative agents and selves. Nevertheless, the filmmaker also addresses his awareness of being positioned as a discrete and individualized authorial figure with a distinctive filmmaking style. Towards the end of the Tropical Malady interview, Weerasethakul refrains from being pinned to a fixed image by talking about his desire to move forward “without creating a brand or keeping [himself] in the same place,” arguing that “film should reflect a change in one’s life and attitude.” This refusal to be pinned down to a particular image or a brand could be viewed in relation to the tradition of modernist artists and thinkers who have situated their works and lives away from mediation in celebrity magazines, media interviews, and associations with the wider cultural industry, all of which have been deemed as conformist and as associated with a commercialized attitude of philistinism in general (see Bronner, 2012; Jaffe, 2005). Yet again, when focusing on this performative refusal of a self-brand as a recognizable trait of the contemporary transnational auteur, a sense of individualism and resistance ironically works to create a unique (anti-) brand for the f ilmmaker, one that embraces f luid agency and nonconformity. Considering these interviews as paratexts included as part of the DVDs, the refusal to create a standardized, easily recognizable brand sets the f ilmmaker in distinction from the demands of the commercial marketplace. Through this logic of “disinterestedness” (Bourdieu, 1993, pp. 24, 39–40), Weerasethakul can instead be positioned as an artist within the autonomous field of cultural production with specific patrons who differentiate themselves from dominant f ilm markets. Located in the context of global f ilm festivals with commercial sponsorships and celebrity cultures, this kind of self-projection reveals complex interrelations between the culture industry and cinema, and notions of authorship and stardom. The niche market that embraces artists’ autonomy and “authentic” self-reflection also extends beyond the practices of film commissioners and specialized DVD distributors, and into the operation of an analogue camera company and a digital streaming platform, as elaborated in the next section.

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

175

Personal/Public Memories and Analogue/Digital Film Markets Lomography has teamed up with movie platform MUBI to produce its first cinematic collaboration, the very first clone of the LomoKino: the LomoKino MUBI Edition. Every LomoKino MUBI Edition comes with a free one month subscription to MUBI worth 7,99 EUR and a film strip from Palme D’Or winner Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s LomoKino movie Ashes. With the LomoKino, you can shoot amazing analogue movies – just load it with a 35 mm film roll and turn the crank to make your masterpiece! (Lomography, n.d.-a)

Made after Weerasethakul won the Palme d’Or and became well-known globally, Ashes (2012) was shot via the LomoKino’s special edition created in partnership with Mubi, as stated in the product information given above. As an analogue camera company created with a manifesto to encourage a freestyle “don’t think, just shoot!” stance, Lomo branded itself as promoting a sense of self-creativity free from constraints, an approach which resonates, of course, with the ideals of personal cinema and unfettered authorship. Partnered with Mubi (known as The Auteurs before 2010) – a global streaming platform, production company, and film distributor focusing on alternative, auteurist, and classic cinema – the project’s co-branding traverses the analogue-digital divide while maintaining discourses of creativity and (branded) auteur culture. This kind of partnership between the different parties displays their ideological connections, made materially evident in the design of the camera with its Lomo hand-wound body bearing Mubi’s logo and Weerasethakul’s printed autograph. As an auteur paratext created via the LomoKino camera (with digital images included in its coda), Ashes links Weerasethakul to the processes of analogue filmmaking while alluding back to his feature films such as Mysterious Object at Noon, which was shot in 16 mm black-and-white film stock. Ashes also references ideas of reincarnation and the medium portrayed in the award-winning film Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. And resonating with Nimit, the short film again captures the director’s daily life, sociopolitical circumstances in Thailand, aesthetic experimentations, and various forms of self-reflection connecting him to others in the process of filmmaking. Following an opening segment with the Mubi logo and a luminated flying object in the sky, the short film begins with slow-wound images of a man (Chaisiri) walking a dog (actually Weerasethakul’s own dog, King Kong, who is also featured as a staff member on the director’s company website).

176 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Along a local road, the camera captures people going into their house, a girl on her bike briefly turning around to look at the camera, and moments of the radiant sun setting, seen through tree branches. The constructed nature of these images is made visible through the camera winding and shifting frame rates, changing levels between close-ups, and altering shades of colour and lighting, combined with sound that has clearly been added on afterwards. Through experimenting with camera settings, Weerasethakul captures his surroundings in a poetic and playful manner. Reaching a field with a pigsty, the camera lingers on the pig in close-up. Using a red colour filter, the camera captures the texture of the ground, the dog walking in the field, and a glimpse of the director turning the camera to capture himself, before shifting his attention to catch the sun that is gradually setting. More black-and-white shots of the evening, with Chaisiri sitting in the field with the dog and the pig, are shown. This time there are sounds of people talking, gun shots, and the dog barking. This peaceful dog-walking scene, though with a hint of danger in the distance, ends with a shot of King Kong lying awake at night. The sequence is intercut with various colour and black-and-white shots of a protest in Bangkok. The camera slowly captures people on the road next to the pavement protest and lingers on images of protesters’ signs attacking Article 112, the Thai law punishing anyone who “defames, insults or threatens the king, the queen, the heir-apparent or the regent” with a jail term of between 3 and 15 years (Parpart, 2018, para. 1). Signs to the Court of Justice and surrounding areas are captured in black and white, accompanied by noises from the street. This sequence is followed by a cutaway to two split frames accompanying with constant clicking sounds of what looks like close-up shots of water movement in a pool or a view under a microscope. This collection of visual experimentations along with those of the political situation and everyday life in Thailand “serve the same purpose [with his feature films] of blending into a continuous flow the present and the past, the remembered and the observed” (Koepnick, cited in Jovanovic, 2022, p. 1793). The selection of different types of shot also allows different functions of the camera to be put to use including a 0.6 m close-up button and varying hand crank speed and frames. In contrast with the earlier parts, the subsequent section of the short film shifts to horizontal split-frame images of people picnicking and gathering in the forest. This alludes to the gathering of artists, cinephiles, and critics, led by Weerasethakul and Tilda Swinton, who took part in a unique film screening project in the south of Thailand, hosted by a luxury resort (also mentioned in Chapter 1 in relation to an experiential cinema project).

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

177

This part of the footage then moves from the private and public realms of the filmmaker in the contexts of daily life in Thailand and towards the international art scene. Weerasethakul’s collaboration with Swinton in this project adds the cultural value and image of “a fashion icon” and “a transnational celebrity” (see Radner, 2016, p. 401) while at the same time invoking an underlying modernist sentiment associated with Swinton “whose work traverses avant-garde, independent and Hollywood cinema, performance art, theatre, music video, and fashion” (De Perthuis, 2018, p. 5). Apart from capturing a collaboration with this well-known star (which later extended to Memoria [2022]), footage included in Ashes involves people observing a site-specific artwork that was part of the project “no fire no ash” by Rirkrit Tiravanija and Arto Lindsay. Again, the short film combines its cranking camera sounds with ambient noise, now insects in the forest. Impressions of the art event’s activities are captured along with snapshots of a woman (perhaps Swinton) painting her toenails, and bright green leaves and plants in the wood are shown in different shades and filters. The iconic visual used as the film’s promotional photo features the colourful layers of a view looking out into dense foliage. Such images invite the exploration of ambiance, focusing on formal elements and collective collage instead of individual subjects. In fact, the description in Mubi’s synopsis suggests that Ashes contemplates “love, pleasure, and the destruction of memory” in the context of Thailand, with its contradictions between “beauty” and gradual “darkness” (Mubi, 2012). Apart from his brief cameo in the first part, in the second half of the film the presence of the filmmaker is heard through conversations about his own dream alongside various forms of visual experimentation. In this second part, the footage of a man walking his dog appears again, followed by a black screen as the director tells a story about trying to capture a dream within a dream by drawing it before it disappears. He realizes that what he saw in the dream was a building in his hometown in Khon Kaen, Thailand. This story resonates with Weerasethakul’s past discussions about his hometown and his training in architecture that have featured in other authorial paratexts. In the dream, Weerasethakul was surprised at how good his dream drawing was, and thought about not making movies anymore and becoming a painter, drawing only his hometown buildings. This conversation directly engages with discourses of authorship by focusing on the act of creating images based on personal memories, as well as reiterating the director’s preoccupation with dreams. Images of people participating in the art world screening in south Thailand, including a shot of Swinton, were inserted in-between this dream story and observations about the colours in the dream.

178 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

As a non-diegetic acoustic guitar sound is inserted, the film’s visuals shift to a display of slow-motion kaleidoscopic lights. The trance-like ending concludes with a firework display at a temple as the people in a crowd capture the lightshow on their mobile phones. The director noted in an interview with Mubi Notebook (Weerasethakul, in Kasman, 2012) that this scene was a funeral ritual. The capturing of light in relation to death with a digital camera and the filming of life and political struggles with an analogue device arguably reflect the contradictions and the in-between state of Thailand being caught between the past and the present. The light display shot with a digital device can be seen in relation to Weerasethakul’s fascination with different technology for recording and projecting fireworks and flames, i.e. Fireworks (2014) and Blue (2018), as well as the use of projector light and smoke in Fever Room (2015). Reading through the lens of auteurist technological experimentation further, Ashes can also be seen in relation to Nokia Shorts (2003), an earlier promotional video shot by Weerasethakul on the first Nokia phone with a camera sponsored by Nokia Thailand. Significantly, the incorporation of digital sequence in this coda self-reflexively lays bare the coexistence of analogue and digital filmmaking and the LomoKino brand. On the one hand, the design of the camera highlights its analogue, hand-craft type of filmmaking, allowing film fans to experiment and celebrate cinema history (which was also referred to on Lomography’s microsite [Lomography, n.d.-b]). This retro line of product also coincides with the growth of retro photography through applications such as Instagram. On the other hand, as noted by writers including Jovanovic (2022, p. 1789) and Lissel, Jutz, and Jukic (n.d., p. 9), LomoKino also relies on its own digital platform for product marketing and digital film distribution partner for circulating Ashes. The making of a film via this camera itself also relies on the process of digital scanning and editing via a computer software, where additional sound can be added. Hence, while Ashes largely advertised the logic of analogue, the inclusion of the digital coda by the director reflects on the co-existence of past and present technologies, within and outside the realm of the commissioner. Jovanovic views the self-reflexive sociopolitical reference to media time in this short film as being “neutralized” (2022, p. 1788) by dominance of the commercial hipsterism (including the giveaway a film strip of Ashes for camera buyers) which placed politics in the backdrop (2022, p, 1796). This view differs from David Teh’s view on the use of “old media forms” in the director’s body of work as a way to reflect “social reality and collective memory” (Teh, 2011, p. 596; also in Jovanovic, 2022, p. 1798, 1800). However, the tendency in the majority of writings on Weerasethakul and

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

179

other contemporary auteurs is to locate the social and political agencies within the realm of filmmaking and the conditions of production. The way self-reflexive authorship is negotiated and performed in different contexts in exhibitions can offer further exploration into the logic of the self within the increasingly market-driven context of transnational auteur culture. Viewed in relation to a network of paratexts shaping the exhibition and distribution of Ashes at the Cannes Film Festival in 2012, the meaning of the short film is shaped by the performativity of Weerasethakul as an artist who is self-conscious of the collaboration with an analogue camera brand and a digital video-on-demand partner. Lomography shared a short clip from a Q&A with the director responding to questions about analogue filming with the LomoKino camera where the physical camera was handed to him on stage (Lomography, 2012). The filmmaker playfully remarked about this camera promotion to the audience, “It’s another advert,” which generated laughter amongst the festival crowd. Weerasethakul then explained that “I’m really happy to do this because I love this thing.” He proceeded to share his experience of being “thrown off balance” as he had been used to the digital format, and he discussed his memory of touching material film for the first time. Reflecting on the constructed nature of the film image, the director remarked on the importance of getting a sense of the materiality and illusion of cinema. Creating an intertextual link with his first film, Mysterious Object at Noon, the director compared the unknown quality of filming with an analogue camera to “a mysterious animal.” In another paratext surrounding Ashes at Cannes,5 Weerasethakul highlighted the beauty of images produced by the camera and the fun it can give, noting that it is “something that everyone can do.” While its political statement on Thailand was mostly lost amongst the Cannes audience, as noted by the Thai film critic Kong Rithdee reporting from the festival (Rithdee, 2014), since Ashes was made available for free on Mubi for a period of time, the exposure provided through this project opened up the filmmaker to wider audiences who could further engage with participatory auteur culture and self-creation by perhaps using the same kind of camera. Expanding from the focus on the director’s navigation and negotiation with public and private commissioners, which offers opportunities to engage and expand his cinematic experimentation and self-projection as a filmmaker/artist in the local and global film market, the next section moves on to focus on different forms of aesthetic collaboration that reflect on the 5 The video is captured from the director Q&A at Cannes conducted by Fernando Ganzo (Revista Lumière, 2012).

180 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

process of filmmaking as moments of assemblages with various human and non-human agents.

Authorial Assemblage Worldly Desires (2005) is an authorially self-reflexive short film that can be analyzed as a case of transmedia authorship par excellence. The video, lasting 42 minutes and 32 seconds, was commissioned by the South Korean Jeonju International Film Festival as part of the Digital Project series. It incorporates various screens, memories, and public and private partners in the process of filmmaking. Weerasethakul was given freedom in terms of the film’s subject, with only one condition: that it “must be shot on a digital format with a running time of no more than forty minutes” (BFI, 2008, p. 12). Hence, the timing listed on the director’s company website (42:32) suggests a minor break from this restriction (although IMDb listed it as 40 minutes, other websites such as Mubi and Letterboxd listed it as 42 or 43 minutes, respectively). Maintaining his role of filmmaker behind the camera, Weerasethakul invited the female Thai director Pimpaka Towira to direct a fictional film written by Weerasethakul’s assistant director, the process of which was then filmed by Weerasethakul himself and his long-term cinematographer, Sayombhu Mukdeeprom. Through the project, Weerasethakul took the opportunity to engage in a “meta” reflection on filmmaking as a collaborative process, performed by the whole filmmaking crew and the guest filmmaker. As stated in the intertitle at the end of the film, “Worldly Desires. For memories of the jungle, 2001–2005,” this is Weerasethakul and his team’s re-enactment of their past working experiences on Weerasethakul’s two early movies, Blissfully Yours and Tropical Malady. As a whole, Worldly Desires is a mixture of daytime shooting of its fictional film, with frequent wandering of the camera to capture the life of the crew on set during both work and play times, and night-time production of a music video featuring imaginary tree fairies coming out to perform to Thai pop music. This music video segment is repeated with different locations in the forest, along with sequences of the crew working and taking a break. We never see Weerasethakul on screen, but the formal elements of the film and the network of paratexts surrounding the work (i.e. Weerasethakul, n.d.-b; IFFR, 2005b; Lee, 2006) contribute to the visibility of the director, while also highlighting the co-creative process of filmmaking. The first 6 minutes of the film open with the sound of cicadas, followed by upbeat indie pop music. The screen is initially very dark before we finally see

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

181

someone’s movement – this turns out to be a dancer walking on to the set, a camera following them. As the set lights are turned on, we learn that this is the location shoot for a dance sequence. The shots provided are intentionally framed to include the lighting, the camera team, the support crew, and the dancers further away with their faces rendered invisible by bright lighting, in contrast to the setting of the dark forest. The single dancer is subsequently joined by four other women who dance in unison, their movements similar to those found on music videos broadcast on Thai television. As the music ends, the image moves onto a couple running away together in the dark forest as night becomes day. It becomes clear that the dance performance was captured through a camera monitor with a viewfinder icon visible at the centre of the image. This viewfinder vision then shifts to the couple walking through the forest during daytime. Before long, we see the crew around the set asking others to check the sound as the team get ready to shoot another scene, with the guest director calling out. The film-within-the-film is a melodrama about a runaway couple in search of a spiritual tree that could provide them with good fortune and security. The staged/fictional aspect of the film-within-a-film is emphasized through old-fashioned theatrical dialogue and the explicit citation of a Thai soap-style story of elopement and guardian myths. Filmmaking is represented through the attention paid to the crew working in various roles and relaxing during their breaks. We see refreshments being prepared for the cast and crew and a big container truck with film equipment parked by the side of the road with other cars. Moments of rest are also given importance through shots that observe activities taking place near the f ilm set, including someone getting a Thai massage in a house nearby. The artificial construction of the fictional film is highly visible through a day-for-night scene. Seemingly naturally occurring conversations are included in the film, such as those of men in soldiers’ uniforms talking about applying for a job as electricians since it pays well. Banter is shared, along with playful moments, such as the crew dancing around and playing with a remote-control flying saucer. Weerasethakul has described Worldly Desires as “a performance, and the video is simply a documentation of it, not a movie in itself” (BFI, 2008, p. 12). By engaging with the process of “showing-doing,” the valorized authorial self of the commissioned filmmaker is portrayed as merely hanging out with others. The stars of the short film are the cast and crew and the guest director. The main characters are also the trees, natural and artif icial lighting, and even the insects that fly around the fluorescent lights. As Weerasethakul is not seen, his authorial agency can be found through

182 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

camera movements, particularly a gradual panning away from the scenes of the fictional story and the music video to other objects and people in the jungle. Film authorship hence becomes a process of co-creation within “assemblages of creativity” (Duff & Sumartojo, 2017) that extends from the cast and crew to the recurring movements, settings, and environments that shape the director’s body of work. Authorship or creative subjects in this context can be seen as part of a large assemblage that comes into being together during the process of filmmaking. The unique arrangement of creative assemblage in Worldly Desires could be explored following Duff and Sumartojo’s discussion of “the forces of territorialization and deterritorialization by which forms and structures emerge and subside” (Duff & Sumartojo, 2017, p. 7). This model, drawing on the idea of Deleuze and Guattari, comprises the horizontal axis of “forms of content” which could include the presence of the director, cast and crew, the natural and artificial sounds, the forest itself (with many various elements from trees, leaves, natural lighting) and various tools and equipment which create the movements and “forms of expression” that emerge from their interactions together (Duff & Sumartojo, 2017, p. 7). This way of thinking about collaboration expands from the view of authorship as a singular agent with creative output to a process of being at a particular space and time through interactions with both human and non-human agents. As mentioned, throughout Worldly Desires the making of the fictional story is interspersed with the music video. During the second time that the video appears, the camera zooms out to capture a male director shooting the video before panning away to capture a member of the f ilm crew walking off the set to relieve himself in the jungle. The f inal time that the music video appears, its extra-diegetic music is left out, and only the sound of leaves rattling remains when the dancers are moving. The dancers in the video perform the same dance routine along to the repeated Thai song “Will I Be Lucky?” by Nadia Suttikulpanich. The changing combination of elements in these repetitive sequences could be seen as a process of (de)territorialization of existing spaces to make visible certain memorable agents in the process of f ilmmaking. These include the leaves on the ground and the song listened to by the crew which was later used as a soundtrack. The lyrics of the song, about a girl wondering if she will be lucky in love like her parents, further creates an intertextual connection with the love story from the daytime, whose female protagonist recalls her mother’s story of a magical tree offering refuge for a lost couple. This surrealism

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

183

and crossing of stories coincide with Weerasethakul’s feature films, such as Tropical Malady and Uncle Boonmee, in which mythical f igures and suppressed characters are able to return on screen in the dark. While various equipment, including the camera, the balloon lighting, and the dolly track, were used to help tell the daytime fictional story and night-time music video, they can also be seen as the tools to present the forest as a site of work for the film director(s) and the crew. As the camera keeps moving to focus on different activities and components not related to the fictional story and the music video, it lays bare the banal and ordinary processes that supported the larger creative project. Apart from the importance of various agents and infrastructure that facilitated affective relations and creative processes, post-auteurism through co-creation can also be extended to communication networks and paratextual discursive conditions that shaped the existence of the project in the public domain. This consideration is possible within the notion of assemblage which can extend “across an infinity of scales and registers” (Mar & Anderson, 2010, p. 48). This discussion of external conditions in creative practices coincides with Hal Foster’s discussion on the increasing perception of artworks as texts and as part of an “informational network.” This led to the way artists have to “‘engage in many more discursive and textual tasks’ including communicating with audiences” (Foster, cited in Mar & Anderson, 2010, p. 35). The discussion of paratextual and external systems that shape the sense of self of a filmmaker has also been addressed in Pam Cook’s writing about self-expression in avant-garde film in which the discourse of the artist is dispersed across the film in the process of separating out basic filmic elements which have a certain autonomy in themselves. The intentions/concerns of the film-maker are subject to extraneous factors, filmic and non-filmic, which are out of her or his control: chance and random elements, the unconscious of the viewer, amongst other things. (Cook, 2014, p. 278)

Authorship in this context is related to the idea of film as “a multi-layered system, a palimpsest or a [para]‘text’” (Cook, 2014, p. 278). While Cook contextualizes her study in the tradition of artisanal production that renders visible the autonomy of filmmakers, particularly those of displaced voices within the film industry such as women and avant-garde artists, Weerasethakul’s (para)text draws attention to different funding agents, negotiating its autonomy in an era of institutional funding.

184 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Apart from its intertextual links to Weerasethakul’s other features, the creation of the music video within Worldly Desires mirrors another project created at the same time – an actual music video for a love song, “Because,” by the business tycoon, collector, and recording artist, Petch Osathanugrah. This music video was filmed in the same jungle, featuring the members of its crew going about their business on the set with different forms of lighting, including a large balloon soft light as an iconic visual. The camera smoothly tracks the crew from a distance as artificial, dreamlike smoke is released to accompany the ballad. The “Because” project was screened at the Busan International Film Festival as part of the thematic programme “Music Videos by Asian Film Directors.”6 During the same period, Weerasethakul also collaborated with Wit Pimkanchanapong and Jiro Endo in designing the stage, lighting, and visual display for the tenth anniversary concert of the record label Bakery Music.7 The music video part of Worldly Desires, viewed in relation to these other transmedia works, further illuminates how Weerasethakul’s universe of auteur storytelling connects cinema with other cultural and commercial agents locally and regionally. After screening at the Jeonju International Film Festival, South Korea, where Worldly Desires was grouped with other South Korean f ilmmakers, the short f ilm was screened at the International Film Festival Rotterdam’s mid-length short film programme (IFFR, 2005b) and at the Lincoln Center in New York City in 2006. Highlighting its intermedial nature, the New York Times described the short film as a cross “between ‘Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take 1’ and a painting by Henri Rousseau” (Lee, 2006, p. 29). The short film was later included as a paratext to Syndromes and a Century on its DVD release by the British Film Institute. Functioning as an auteur paratext in relation to the network of other texts created by Weerasethakul and circulated at around the same time, Worldly Desires located Weerasethakul as an intermedial director whose music videos, short films, and feature films could harmoniously share the same stylistic and semantic universe. Framing the process of authorship as a fluid assemblage of connections, the deconstruction of filmmaking to incorporate its many agents, particularly “new formations and phenomena proliferating on the edges of historically structured institutions” (Mar & Anderson, 2010, p. 37) has become an important part of today’s auteur culture. This kind of project 6 The song is called “เพราะฉันและเธอ (Because)” (Robmerlin, 2011). 7 The original link to the project description is no longer available: http://www.kickthemachine. com/works/bakery.html.

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

185

as well as the subsequent discussion of an organized collective formed around filmmaking and political solidarity further expands the idea of post-authorship to the gathering of the assemblage of selves made possible by various solidarity networks at different points in time.

Collective Authorship and Political Solidarity Diseases and a Hundred Year Period (2008) is a short film developed through the Berlinale Talents and screened as part of the inclusive “Spectrum” programme of the International Film Festival Rotterdam, which is for short films less than 40 minutes that may not fit into one specific topic. The IFFR profile describes it as an “essay film about the censorship of Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Syndromes and a Century” created by Sompot Chidgasornpongse, the assistant director of Syndromes. Along with a series of short films made by Pimpaka Towira interviewing Thai filmmakers, artists, and writers as part of the Free Thai Cinema movement, Diseases and a Hundred Year Period is amongst several short films (see Hunt, 2020, p. 36) that express solidarity with Weerasethakul against film censorship. The title of the short film addresses its paratextual relation to Weerasethakul’s movie. Both Syndromes and a Century and Diseases and a Hundred Year Period refer to an illness contracted over a long period of time. In the short film’s context, this illness specifically relates to censorship conditions in Thailand, which have directly impacted on the creative filmmaking of many directors, including Weerasethakul. The short film uses the process of obstructing viewers from seeing to illustrate the sense of self being taken away by censorship. The still image accompanying the film’s profile is a close-up shot of a man (Chidgasornpongse) turning his back to the camera. The image only shows the back of his neck, part of his head, and his right ear. Throughout the short film viewers are prevented from seeing the face of the narrator who plays a news anchor. The voice-over begins by reporting about “a year-long debate” in which Weerasethakul, “an internationally acclaimed award-winning director,” had resubmitted Syndromes and a Century, “a top film among many international critics,” to the Thai Censorship Board for reconsideration. While four scenes were initially “banned” after the first submission, two more were ordered to be cut in the second round. Weerasethakul “honoured their decision” to take out the scenes and replaced them with a “scratched, black leader.” Significantly, the response of Weerasethakul towards the censorship of his work is read out with the first-person pronoun “I,” highlighting the narrator’s

186 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

embodied agency as standing in for the director’s and problematizing or destabilizing the objectivity of the initial news voice-over. The narrator states that “I want our society to take note of the censorship problem especially now that the new movie law is about to come out. According to this new law, even though there will be a rating system, it still maintains the censorship committee’s authority to censor or ban a film.” With the scratched version being “the only print in the world,” the director wants audiences to “realize the silence and destructive force of darkness.” The long quote continues, mentioning that Weerasethakul “expect[s] a widespread discussion about the rights of artists and audiences.” By discussing Weerasethakul’s film in the third person and quoting his words in the first person, the narrator/news reporter/performer/filmmaker (Chidgasornpongse) occupies multiple positions, including that of the embodiment of Weerasethakul who is affected by his feature film’s censorship, and Weerasethakul’s supporter/collaborator who stages a protest against censorship. This work also reveals multiple layers of authorship, ranging from citing the way that Weerasethakul asserts his own creative control and authenticity through replacing the cut scenes with a symbolic black leader, to Chidgasornpongse’s creative agency in cropping and manipulating the feature’s censored parts to create his own personal and political statements. Chidgasornpongse used “selected statements of the Thai Censorship Board” as intertitles to give a new context to specific censored scenes, also replacing the film’s subtitles with a general history of Thailand. These include “Scene 1: A Buddhist monk playing a guitar” being followed by “This film shamefully presents a negative image of Thai society for foreign audiences.” The scene titled “a doctor kisses his girlfriend and then makes an adjustment inside his trousers” is accompanied by the Censorship Board’s quote that the “director disgracefully humiliates his parents before a global audience.” Chidgasornpongse creatively uses various techniques to obstruct viewers from seeing the censored sequences in full. For example, in the first scene we can see a glimpse of a monk’s robe in the foreground and banana leaves and tree branches in the background. The voice track reveals that a group of men are having a playful chat with a monk although it is unclear what they are talking about. Following the sound of an acoustic guitar and the monk’s conversation, the subtitles deliberately give irrelevant information about Thai people, the country’s climate and customs. This kind of clichéd information can be found in educational documentaries about Thailand for non-Thai audiences. As viewers of Syndromes and a Century in Thailand and Diseases and a Hundred Year Period at the festival can only see these

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

187

sequences in parts, if not at all, it is impossible for them to evaluate the decision of the Censorship Board. Other statements by the Censorship Board that are cited, such as the description of Weerasethakul’s films as “devoid of artistic merit” and the remark that “nobody goes to see films by Apichatpong,” become humorously ironic when screened in the context of the IFFR, whose mission is to support and create audiences for works deemed to be artistic. The process of cutting or making invisible only certain parts of the censored sequences and words here highlights Chidgasornpongse’s shared sociopolitical viewpoint with Weerasethakul against film censorship, as well as his own creative agency. The textual reconstruction in this short film resonates with the discussion of this format as offering a mode of personal and political expression that has far fewer constraints than larger budget features (Canciani et al., 2014, pp. 11–12). As the mode of release is different from that of a theatrical screening, the exhibition process is also free from having to submit to the Censorship Board. Beyond its function as a political statement and an artistic expression, this short film (particularly its introduction and concluding statement in the third person) could also be seen, within the context of auteur culture, as an homage and invitation to support Weerasethakul’s solidarity network. The narrator announces that the Thai edition of Syndromes and a Century will be screened in one cinema in Bangkok, where there will also be an exhibition about the journey of the film and the country’s censorship system. Noting that “ticket buyers will also receive a postcard, a collector’s item,” the report ends with a statement that all profits will be given to the Thai Film Foundation “as a contribution to this ongoing fight toward freedom for Thai f ilmmakers and Thai viewers.” Viewing this in relation to the “Free Thai Cinema” movement led by the Thai Film Foundation, the Thai Film Director Association responded to the censorship of Weerasethakul’s film and was joined by many creative agents in Thailand’s film and media industries (see Ingawanij, 2008; Hunt, 2020, p. 35), showing that the importance of self-expression and authorship in this situation is strongly dialogic, collective, and political. While the “Free Thai Cinema” movement was partially successful in pushing for a change of authority responsible for censorship – this now residing with the Ministry of Culture instead of the police – the new rating system remains problematic, with regulations allowing for the cutting and banning of movies. Weerasethakul decided not to submit his later film, Cemetery of Splendor, to the Thai Censorship Board at all, and shifted his subsequent feature filmmaking location to Colombia. While suspending his feature filmmaking in Thailand under the military-led government, alternative formats continue to present a

188 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

way to explore individual and collective authorial expressions and civic engagements. Beyond the censorship protest, Diseases and a Hundred Year Period is included as a special feature on the French DVD of Syndromes and a Century released by Survivance (Survivance, n.d.). Chidgasornpongse went on to make his own feature-length documentary, Railway Sleepers (2016), produced by Weerasethakul. As part of the Kick the Machine team, one of Chidgasornpongse’s short films was also featured alongside the performances of Weerasethakul’s long-term collaborators in the group’s transmedia project Metaphors: An Evening of Sound and Moving Image with Kick the Machine (2017). As a performance of light, sound, and smoke in which the projector is turned towards audiences in the room, emitting a light show through evaporating smoke, authorial input is unusually blurred between the surroundings, the machine, and all the people involved. Co-creation and collaboration in this project and other site-specif ic artworks have allowed for the continuous growth and exploration of auteur culture from production and exhibition sides, despite constraints and restrictions. Highlighting the importance of considering not only the context of f ilm production but also modes of exhibition and relations with various communities involved and audiences, Patricia R. Zimmermann’s (2020) work in the same dossier mentioned at the beginning of the chapter offers further ref lection on the creation of alternative forms of artworks, i.e. video installations that open up the co-creation to the sound, movement, participations, and environments shaping individual experiences. Weerasethakul’s mode of storytelling continues to move towards these transmedia co-creative projects, including a recent live exhibition and a published book in collaboration with the lighting and stage design company DuckUnit and Pat Pataranutaporn – a technologist and researcher at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), using a stage-design software and GPT-3 – an AI platform as part of the storytelling (for more, see MIT Media Lab, 2022). Located at the intersection of transnational star-auteur logic with the continuous collaboration with many partners and brands during the process of f ilmmaking and distribution of Memoria, as well as the celebration of community events and co-creation processes, the exploration of the hybrid nature of short f ilms and other alternative formats along with their paratextual materials encourage more ways to explore authorial self-reflexivity and self-projections that both acknowledge and critique a singular human-centred f ilm authorship.

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

189

Conclusion This chapter has discussed transmedia self-projections of the global artist and filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul through different short films and commissioned projects, later circulated as paratexts alongside feature films or screened as part of the director’s retrospective programmes. In both solo and collaborative self-projections, Weerasethakul took the opportunity to disavow iconic and monumental representations of himself as an auteur figure associated with the cult of personality and celebrity culture. This was achieved by using different modes of storytelling, self-staged interviews, and on-screen interactions with collaborators. For example, in Nimit, Weerasethakul reflected on the concept provided by the commissioner, to celebrate the reign of the late king of Thailand, by presenting a lyrical short film about everyday life in the country through snapshots of his family. On the director’s company website (Weerasethakul, n.d.-a), a written essay introducing the short film further reflected on the relationship between the technology of image making and the sense of memory, intimacy, and opaqueness it can give. In the form of a self-staged interview examining behind the scenes of Tropical Malady, Weerasethakul engaged in a refusal to be f ixed to an auteurist brand by opting instead for a self-projection and self-expression that involved recalling working with his long-term casts. In another behindthe-scenes short film, Worldly Desires, the director invited a fellow filmmaker to reconstruct his past memories of working in the jungle with his crew. When these portraits of the director or the actors were presented, they were accompanied by processes of layering and staging, laying bare the illusion of the image. This performative awareness of the fluidity of self as a form of artistic practice, presented through auteur paratexts, has contributed to the director’s intertextual position in relation to modernist and experimental artists such as Maya Deren and Pier Paolo Pasolini (see Annovi, 2017; Pramaggiore, 1997). In this context, the image of the filmmaker is always in the process of being made. Such a mode of performative self-reflection, when supported by commercial entities like Lomography and Mubi, as in the case of the short film Ashes, further reveals how Weerasethakul has negotiated a mode of celebrity authorship in relation to publicity and commerce by acknowledging what the market and fans want to see while resisting that industrial/ consumer gaze through processes of performative self-reflection. Expanding out from the roles of short film and self-projection as arts of subversion, it is also important to highlight the interconnectedness of

190 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

commercial, artistic, and governmental agents in the reception process. Weerasethakul has embraced the re-circulation of selected short films as DVD extras and as part of various retrospectives. The realm of reception has also opened up his performative, resistant auteurist self to collective others and cultural mobilizations, as in the case of Diseases and a Hundred Year Period, which sought to address problems with Thai film censorship. These instances recurrently reveal the artistic/cultural/commercial/political functions of auteur images today, where studying feature films and timesensitive promotional materials alone is no longer sufficient to address the complexity of the social life of film auteurism in transmedia culture and the politics surrounding an auteur’s public visibility and global recognition, as the next chapter will explore.

Works Cited Annovi, G. M. (2017). Pier Paolo Pasolini: Performing authorship. New York and Chichester: Columbia University Press. Asia-Europe Foundation. (2011, July 5). Thai Film Foundation. https://culture360. asef.org/resources/thai-film-foundation/ Auguiste, R. (2020). Visible things unseen: Co-creation and its philosophical turn. Afterimage, 47(1), 36–41. Auguiste, R., et al. (2020). Co-creation in documentary: Toward multiscalar granular interventions beyond extraction. Afterimage, 47(1), 34–35. Bareither, C. (2021). Capture the feeling: Memory practices in between the emotional affordances of heritage sites and digital media. Memory Studies, 14(3), 578–591. Baumgärtel, T. (Ed.). (2012). Southeast Asian independent cinema. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. BFI. (2008). Making movies in the jungle: Interview with Apichatpong Weerasethakul. [DVD booklet]. London: BFI. Bourdieu, P. (1993). The field of cultural production: Essays on art and literature. Cambridge: Polity Press. Bronner, S. E. (2012). Modernism at the barricades: Aesthetics, politics, utopia. New York and Chichester: Columbia University Press. Canciani, J. (2014). Introduction. OnCurating, 23 (Special issue on the future of short film), 5–10. Canciani, J., Gass, L. H., Höhne, M. M., Laakso, J.-P., Reymond, L., & Van Hoof, P. (2014). The future of short film: A debriefing of a panel discussion. OnCurating, 23 (Special issue on the future of short film), 11–15.

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

191

Cizek, K., & Uricchio, W. (2020). Introduction and overview. Works in Progress. https://wip.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/collective-wisdom-exec-sum-biographies/ release/3 Cook, P. (2014). The point of self-expression in avant-garde film. In J. Caughie (Ed.), Theories of authorship (pp. 271–281). London and New York: Routledge. Corrigan, T. (2011). The essay film from Montaigne, after Marker. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press. De Perthuis, K. (2018). Tilda Swinton: Performing fashion. About Performance, 16, 5–25. Duff, C., & Sumartojo, S. (2017). Assemblages of creativity: Material practices in the creative economy. Organization, 24(3), 1–15. Egat. (n.d.). Ubol Ratana Dam. About. https://www.egat.co.th/home/ubol-ratanadm-about/ Gunthert, A. (2018). The consecration of the selfie: A cultural history. In J. Eckel, J. Ruchatz, & S. Wirth. (Eds.), Exploring the selfie: Historical, theoretical and analytical approaches to digital self-photography (pp. 27–47). Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Horvath, C., & Carpenter, J. (Eds.). (2020). Co-creation in theory and practice: Exploring creativity in the Global North and South. Bristol: Bristol University Press. Hunt, M. (2020). Thai cinema uncensored. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books. IFFR. (2005b). Worldly Desires. https://iffr.com/en/2006/films/worldly-desires IFFR. (2008). Exploding Cinema: New Dragon Inns. https://iffr.com/en/2008/ programme/exploding-cinema-new-dragon-inns?page=1%3Fpage%3D1 IFFR. (n.d.). About the Hubert Bals Fund. https://iffr.com/en/about-the-hubertbals-fund Ingawanij, A. (2008). Disreputable behaviour: The hidden politics of the Thai Film Act. Vertigo, 3(8). https://www.closeupfilmcentre.com/vertigo_magazine/ volume-3-issue-8-winter-2008/disreputable-behaviour-the-hidden-politics-ofthe-thai-film-act/ Jaffe, A. (2005). Modernism and the culture of celebrity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jovanovic, N. (2022). Nostalgic from the hip: Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Lomokino short. Quarterly Review of Film and Video, 39(8), 1787–1803. Kasman. (2012). Keep it mysterious: A conversation with Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Notebook interview. Mubi. https://mubi.com/notebook/posts/ keep-it-mysterious-a-conversation-with-apichatpong-weerasethakul Keightley, E., Pickering, M., & Allett, N. (2012). The self-interview: A new method in social science research. International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 15(6), 507–521.

192 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Khoo, O. (2014). The minor transnationalism of queer Asian cinema: Female authorship and the short film format. Camera Obscura, 29(1), 33–57. Kovács, A. B. (2007). Screening modernism: European art cinema, 1950–1980. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Lee, N. (2006, February 17). “Worldy Desires.” New York Times. https://www.nytimes. com/2006/02/17/movies/worldy-desires.html Letterboxd. (n.d.). Meteorites 2007 “Nimit” Directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul. https://letterboxd.com/film/meteorites-2007/ Liebman, J. (2013). Apichatpong Weerasethakul through the trees. Apartamento, 11, 76–93. http://jeremyliebman.com/apichatpong-weerasethakul/ Lissel, E., Jutz, G., & Jukic, N. (n.d.). Reset the apparatus! Retrograde technicity in aesthetic photographic and cinematic practices. Edgar Lissel. https://edgarlissel. de/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Article-Doha-Biennale-2017.pdf Lomography. (2012). Apichatpong Weerasethakul on shooting analogue with the Lomokino 35 mm analogue movie maker. [Video]. Vimeo. https://vimeo. com/42485308 Lomography. (n.d.-a). LomoKino Mubi edition: Lomography shop. https://shop. lomography.com/en/lomokino-mubi-edition Lomography. (n.d.-b). LomoKino on 35 mm film. https://microsites.lomography. com/lomokino/ Mar, P., & Anderson, K. (2010). The creative assemblage. Theorizing contemporary forms of arts-based collaboration. Journal of Cultural Economy, 3(1), 35–51. MIT Media Lab. (2022). A conversation with the sun. https://www.media.mit.edu/ projects/a-conversation-with-the-sun/overview/ Mubi. (2012). Ashes. https://mubi.com/films/ashes Owen, J. L. (2014). The migrations of factory style: Work, play and work-as-play in Andy Warhol, Chantal Akerman and Apichatpong Weerasethakul. In E. Mazierska (Ed.), Work in cinema: Labor and the human condition (pp. 227–247). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Parpart, E. (2018, March 26). Lese majeste law and reality. Bangkok Post. https:// www.bangkokpost.com/opinion/opinion/1435150/lese-majeste-law-and-reality Pramaggiore, M. (1997). Performance and persona in the US avant-garde: The case of Maya Deren. Cinema Journal, 36(2), 17–40. Radner, H. (2016). Transnational celebrity and the fashion icon: The case of Tilda Swinton, “visual performance artist at large.” European Journal of Women’s Studies, 23(4), 401–414. Revista Lumière. (2012). Ashes Q&A Apichatpong Weerasethakul Cannes 2012. [Video]. Vimeo. https://vimeo.com/42505347 Rithdee, K. (2014, March 11). Cannes day 4. Bangkok Post. https://www.bangkokpost. com/life/arts-and-entertainment/294246/cannes-day-4

Co - creating an Assembl age of Selves through Commissioned Art work s

193

Robmerlin. (2011, February 21). เพราะฉันและเธอ (Because). [Video]. YouTube. https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdcIh9PgX54 Ruchatz, J. (2018). Selfie reflexivity: Pictures of people taking photographs. In J. Eckel, J. Ruchatz, & S. Wirth (Eds.), Exploring the selfie: Historical, theoretical and analytical approaches to digital self-photography (pp. 49–82). Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Rugg, L. H. (2014). Self-projection: The director’s image in art cinema. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Sayad, C. (2013). Performing authorship: Self-inscription and corporeality in the cinema. London: I. B. Tauris. Sellors, C. P. (2007). Collective authorship in film. Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 65(3), 263–271. Sheldon, Z. (2020). Paratexts and the making of the “digital auteur.” Cinephile, 14(1), 26–31. Subyen, S., & Watcharathanin, T. (Eds.). (2010). Transnational film funding mission/ Pathibatkan Nangtun Kamchat. Bangkok: Openbooks. Survivance. (n.d.). 001 // Syndromes and a Century. http://www.survivance.net/ document/1/72/Syndromes-and-a-century Teh, D. (2011). Itinerant cinema: The social surrealism of Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Third Text, 25(5), 595–609. Teh, D. (2017). Thai art: Currencies of the contemporary. London: MIT Press. Weerasethakul, A. (n.d.-a). Meteorites (นิ มิ ต Nimit). Kick the Machine. http://www. kickthemachine.com/page80/page1/page42/index.html Weerasethakul, A. (n.d.-b). Worldly Desires. Kick the Machine. http://www.kickthemachine.com/page80/page1/page36/index.html Zimmermann, P. R. (2020). Polyphony and the emerging collaborative ecologies of documentary media exhibition. Afterimage, 47(1), 61–66. สำ�นักงานศิลปวัฒนธรรมร่วมสมัย กระทรวงวัฒนธรรม. (2016, October 28). ภาพยนตร์ ้ สันเฉลิ มพระเกียรติ แด่ พระผู้ ทรงธรรม เรื่อง นิ มิ ต [Royal project short film: Nimit]. [Video]. YouTube. https://youtu.be/H4XB_WgIhpU

5.

The Auteur in Crisis: Self-confessions and Performative Excess Abstract: This chapter draws attention to the use of performative paratexts to rework an auteur’s fluctuating reputation. Drawing on the case of the late Kim Ki-duk, I examine the director’s self-confessions, festival performances, and self-fashionings through auteur paratexts that project a public self in crisis. On certain occasions, corporeal self-projection unveiled the f ilmmaker’s lived contradictions and worked to regain support from specific audiences. At other times, self-projections were deemed to be unacceptable and the filmmaker’s public representation was terminated. Through performative paratexts in the public domain, the contemporary authorial position is open to contested views, media call-outs, and what has been termed “cancel culture.” Keywords: cult authorship, corporeal excess, self-fashioning, selfconfession, ethics

In today’s auteur culture, the figure of the filmmaker has increasingly become a site of consumption resembling a brand or a star. Given the ambivalent relationship to commerce in the tradition of art and avant-garde cinema, the previous chapter highlighted how one East Asian auteur was able to resist their celebrity status by making various experimental and self-reflective short films for auteur-driven film markets. This chapter draws attention to authorial paratexts that work differently; these are another filmmaker’s performances and public appearances that play a significant role in shaping public recognition and reworking a highly problematic position for the filmmaker concerned, associated with the realm of cult cinema. In Anglo-European film culture, many East Asian auteurs who emerged in the late 1990s and early 2000s gained their reputations through the context of cult consumption, which coincided with the opening up of film festivals to genre films and art-cult movies, along with the rise of a specialized film

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch05

196 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

distribution sector and transmedia promotion (see, for example, Martin, 2015). Alongside figures such as Takashi Miike, Nakata Hideo, and Park Chan-wook, Kim Ki-duk played a key part in the discussion of East Asian cult films in the late 1990s to early 2000s (see the background in Chapter 2). The cult branding of Kim’s films has been widely discussed in the context of film distribution (see, for example, Shin, 2008; Martin, 2015). Attention has been given to festival audiences being disturbed by explicit visual excess, as well as controversies surrounding the release, and negotiation with censorship, of certain “extreme” films, followed by the analysis of transgressive elements and aesthetic merit (Chung, 2012, p. 14). Through the hype surrounding the distribution of films such as The Isle (2000) and Bad Guy (2001), along with the festival recognition for 3-Iron (2004) and Samaritan Girl (2004), Kim Ki-duk has become known as a cult auteur among global East Asian film audiences, despite critical concerns over the portrayal of women in many of his works, particularly by South Korean critics (Chung, 2012, p. 15). This cult auteur position was also further highlighted through his public biography, commonly recited in the circuit of auteur culture. Kim was introduced/introduced himself as someone who had been a factory worker at a young age, joined the South Korean Marines, and worked for a church mission for the blind, all before a stint as a street painter in Paris and then discovering cinema at a time when the South Korean film industry had opened up to new talent and the international market (Chung, 2012, p. 3). This recurring story, along with its reiterations of not fitting in with the typical local film industry, reinforced a cult auteur position of being “a lone, heroic figure battling against the odds to create works that are taken to heart by outsider audiences” (Mathijs & Sexton, 2011, p. 68). Exploring various dimensions of the cult auteur, Ernest Mathijs and Jamie Sexton note that star-auteur reputations are often established through practices such as “courting scandal,” “cultivating a public persona,” and the “merging of outsiderness in both life and art” for figures such as Alejandro Jodorowsky, John Waters, Edward D. Wood Jr., and Roger Corman (2011, pp. 68–69). Many of these cited characteristics resonate with those adopted by Kim Ki-duk earlier in his career, along with the conditions surrounding his filmmaking, such as creating a large number of low-budget films in a short span of time and self-promoting his status as an outsider battling to gain recognition from the system. With volatile market conditions and dispersed paratextual materials shaping the director’s reputation (as mentioned in Chapter 2), the auteur position associated with Kim Ki-duk – initially formed through controversies surrounding the sub-genre of extreme cinema – has gradually shifted. From 2011 onwards, newfound critical attention was given to the filmmaker’s

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

197

persona, cultish performance, and self-fashioning after his self-imposed exile. This followed an incident on the set of Dream (2008), the director’s 15th feature film, in which the actress Lee Na-young lost consciousness during a suicide scene (see Lee H.-w., 2014). A change in focus, from Kim’s body of cinematic work to his corporeal excess and self-confessions – which had started with the director’s documentary Arirang (2011) – expanded the initial notion of cult authorship associated with “Asia Extreme” branding in the early 2000s (See Dew, 2007, p. 65) into a self-projected version of a recluse cult celebrity with a niche following. Drawing on previous writings on cult film and media appearances (see, for example, chapters in Egan & Thomas, 2013; Mathijs & Sexton, 2011), I will examine the director’s on-screen confession, off-screen performance, and a range of contexts surrounding the fluctuating and problematic position of a former cult auteur. The notion of “cult” in this instance is changeable, in line with references to Kim’s previous films and a shifting interest in bodies in crisis, along with wider developments in industry and audience cultures. This view accords with the idea of cult stardom in which the notion of “cult” is not a fixed and stable parameter but rather “a mode of representations” that “changes in line with interpretations of the contexts in which it is produced and consumed” (Egan & Thomas, 2013, p. 6). As I will show, eventually the notion of cult authorship associated with Kim Ki-duk is called into question as the director’s embodied self is said to have stepped beyond a vital ethical threshold. During the writing of this book, Kim’s reputation was hit by a new wave of controversies, focused around sexual allegations from a number of actresses. These resulted in a physical assault charge and public condemnation, culminating in the director disappearing from media appearances prior to his death in 2020. While the confessional self-performances of the director had played an important role in negotiating his cult star-auteur status, and had rebuilt his reputation at one point, more recent exposure of his misconduct as part of the #MeToo movement served to disrupt his already problematic authorial position. In addition to examining self-performances evolving around this highly problematic auteur figure, this chapter also intends to address how related parties responded and reported on the abuses that took place under their watchful eyes.

The Reconfiguration of Self via a Dramatized Confession A filmmaker’s authorial presence takes place throughout her/his career as s/he is invited to attend premieres, Q&A sessions or otherwise presented

198 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

as part of promotional materials through interviews and behind-the-scene featurettes. The form of media projection related to cult auteur status is often shaped by elements of textual and corporeal excess, combined with the recognition of unusual film production and reception contexts compared to those of “mainstream” films (Mathijs & Sexton, 2011, pp. 68–69). Early in his filmmaking career, Kim Ki-duk projected his own body as part of his movies’ production context, although without much media attention. For example, the director cast himself as one version of the protagonist in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring. Kim also noted later in an interview that he had taken cameo roles in The Isle and Bad Guy (V Live, 2017). Upon receiving the Golden Lion award for 3-Iron (2005) at the Venice International Film Festival, Kim drew an image of an eye on his palm, similar to the actions of the film’s protagonist (Yu, 2009). And when receiving the award on stage, the filmmaker raised his left hand, showing the eye drawing for a photo opportunity and creating a self-projected intertextual link between his own body and the film character. However, media attention given to the filmmaker at the time centred on the film itself and on the reputation associated with a specific distributor of “extreme” cinema. It was not until the director went into a period of self-exile and released the self-made, confessional documentary Arirang (2011) that his performativity was more fully recognized, and subsequently repeated by the filmmaker. Focusing on Arirang, this section examines Kim’s confessional self-performance as an attempt to project a new public persona, following a crisis of the authorial self in the filmmaker’s career. Mathijs and Sexton (2011) have highlighted the importance of “extratextual information” for cult auteurs, even more so than for those associated with classical art cinema, since such information works to create a kind of relationship between film fans and filmmaker through a shared understanding of authorial subject position. In the Cannes press kit, Arirang was described as a film “about Kim Ki-duk playing 3 roles in 1” (Finecut Co. Ltd., 2011, p. 3). Reflecting on the idea of Arirang as a personal journey through the first-person viewpoint, the lyrics of the folk song “Arirang” were cited as a metaphor in which the filmmaker “climb[s] over one hill in life.” Through this process, it was stated that “I [Kim Ki-duk] understand human beings, thank […] nature, and accept my life as it is now” (Finecut Co. Ltd., 2011, p. 3). The director’s communication further provided contextual information on the film by describing the incident during the filming of Dream in which an actress “almost got in[volved in] a fatal accident” during a suicide scene (Finecut Co. Ltd., 2011, p. 3). In Kim’s first-person narrative, the “I” of the f ilmmaker “became the saddest human being in the world, […] [afraid

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

199

that] that I am manipulating the world. At that moment […] I couldn’t do anything. My films were made by my inferiority complexes” (Finecut Co. Ltd., 2011, p. 3). The letter continued to philosophically reflect on complex human relationships, the surging of emotion, and “the urge to kill,” all of which formed key elements of the film’s narrative. The letter was signed off with the name “Kim Ki-duk” and a wish to “walk side by side in life with films” (Finecut Co. Ltd., 2011, p. 3). This (promotional) declaration in the director’s writing can be seen as one way to reconstruct his post-crisis authorial position. In Arirang, facilitated by digital production techniques, Kim Ki-duk captured himself performing different roles, all the while giving voice to himself as a cult auteur wishing for a comeback. Sean Redmond (2008) highlights the use of the corporeal revelatory body as a way to accept one’s failings, degradation, and “truth” while still affirming one’s fame. This kind of doubled self-projection is highly evident when examining Arirang’s structure and the corporeal body of the filmmaker on screen. The first 5 minutes of the film invite audiences to witness a “day in the life” of the filmmaker, depicted in extreme closeness from the initial moment of waking up inside a tent in a hut on a rural hillside, through to collecting a bucket of water and picking up a shovel to defecate in a hole dug in a snowy field overlooking sparse houses below. These daily activities proceed on to different stages of bodily consumption: drinking coffee, observing a cat eating, preparing and eating different food. All are shown on screen with the figure of the director at the centre. Apart from representing Kim’s physical body across the day, the film presents a paranoid state of mind through its use of limited lighting and recurring knocks on the hut’s door. Kim moves in and out of his tent to open the door to check, although no one is to be found and there is just the sound of his cat. The next morning’s routine begins with an extreme close-up, shot from behind, of Kim’s feet stepping on the heel caps of a pair of black shoes, revealing his cracked feet and blisters seen from floor level. This image has been used as the film’s poster, DVD cover, and key visual for the online promotion of the film. As a representation of night-time/mental and daytime/physical exhaustion, along with connoting a state of survival (in the winter in the makeshift shelter), it subtly reinforces Kim’s on-screen confession about Dream’s dangerous filmmaking incident. Kim preps himself by combing and tying his long grey hair and ordering “Ready, action!” in front of the camera. His confessional monologue is created in the style of an interview, providing a background narrative to Kim’s position as a filmmaker who feels unable to make more movies. Kim as an interviewer speaks to another Kim Ki-duk, this time as interviewee, with

200 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

the interrogator shown in extreme and threatening close-up: “Kim Ki-duk, what are you doing? Why can’t you make films now? What’s your problem?” The split self continues with an answer: I can’t make films now. So, I’m filming myself. By filming myself I want to confess my life, myself as a director and as a human being. I’m making [a] film about me. This could be a documentary, a drama, or a fantasy. I can be the characters in the films I want to make. […] Nothing planned, but I need to film something to be happy. So, I’m filming myself.

This opening statement of self-interrogation and the subsequent confession shot in close-up continues with Kim Ki-duk telling the story of a film he wanted to make at the time: “It’s about an American soldier who fought in the Korean War. Thirty years later, before he dies, he returns to find the body of the person he killed.” A computer screen with a synopsis of this new film is briefly shown as the director/actor continues: “He returns to Korea as an old man and goes to a village. He buys a shovel there and goes up a mountain. He keeps digging around, but can’t find the corpse.” The earlier on-screen process of Kim digging a toilet hole and this narrated digging for a body in the (fictional) script both evoke the idea of unearthing/pouring out, exposing one’s ugly rotten parts/pasts. The opening up of the self through performative confession creates what Redmond refers to as a “phenomenological leak [which] has the ability to make intimate the relationship between the celebrity confessor and the fans who receive it” (2008, p. 149). These intimate relations can be found in reviews of Arirang by fans on IMDb, such as a remark by “tarek3358” – reproduced here exactly as posted – that “There are many things i want to see which match with myself. Kim Ki-duk is the only director who actually understand my mind. I should follow him and want to be a director like him” and “When he cried in while watching his own cinema (Spring, Summer … ). It made me share some tears with him” (IMDb, 2011). In-between Arirang’s self-confessions, a method of moving on is depicted via images of Kim sitting and typing at a computer screen in his tent. The proposed story continues, recounting that the soldier was about to give up when he encountered a woman who could help him find the dead body. The method that finally led to the corpse’s discovery was a kind of a performative re-enactment on the part of the soldier. After putting on his uniform and holding a rifle to return to “his former self as the soldier in Korean War,” Kim narrates how the soldier was able to trace the place of his past guilt. This interplay between the character and filmmaker, especially the act of

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

201

re-enactment and facing a regretted past, functions in the same way as a corporeally staged confession “to raise, redeem, or resurrect a profile, or for damage limitation” (Redmond, 2008, p. 149). Shifting from this lamented self, later in the film Kim Ki-duk takes up the fictional role of a killer who drives into the city on a journey to take revenge on three unseen figures. His gun is aimed at three different buildings, before finally being turned on himself. These imagined killings can be seen in connection with a conversation in the film about various people that have betrayed Kim, as well as coding his own self-punishment, which he hopes will allow him to reinvent a renewed (authorial) self. Resonating with the significance of the corporeal body and death as “show business” in the context of Hollywood stardom and celebrity culture (Brottman, 2000, pp. 111–112), the corporeal performance and self-killing in Kim’s own film further terminated his past self in crisis and symbolically resurrected a new cult star-auteur status. Regaining a sense of independent authorial self, Kim was projecting himself as a f ilmmaker and a maker of tools (particularly an espresso machine and a gun), further alluding to his background working in a factory). Highlighting his authorial imprint, Kim used an electronic device to carve his name in English onto the stand of his self-made coffee machine, marking his authorial imprint on camera. The object itself could also be seen as a self-performed intertextual citation, as the relation between a coffee machine and its human user is found in his first feature, Crocodile, re-released along with Arirang by Terracotta Distribution. The creation of intertextuality with this body of work, seeking to regain a sense of valued authorship, is most explicit when the director is seen watching a sequence of Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring in which the younger Kim performs an act of self-punishment by tying a robe with a large piece of stone to his body while carrying a statue of Guan Yin (the bodhisattva of compassion in Mahayana Buddhism) up a snowy mountain. This scene was situated in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring as the work of karma for tying a stone to a frog earlier in the movie. Creating an intertextual allegory, the staging of self in Arirang – living in a cabin on a hill and performing daily life in harsh conditions – is presented as a form of self-punishment as well as a corporeal re-enactment of Kim’s role in his previous and well-known film. Repeated statements about the strangeness and shame of his living conditions, such as “eating out of a dog bowl” and staying at “a shabby place” with no toilet, can be viewed in conjunction with objects that are shown as belonging to a “world famous director,” e.g. a world map, references to his fans and followers online, and a series of close-up shots of his awards,

202 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

film posters, and scripts, all exhibited in his personal studio. The overall grammar of the film consequently connects with that of a “para-confession” or “a commercial rendition of repentance designed to display the star or celebrity’s persona from a position of persuasive authority” (King, 2008, p. 115). Understood via his cult persona, the entanglements and contradictions between such different depictions of Kim can be further explored through Sarah Thomas’s discussion of the “spaces of tension” that emerge from juxtapositions between different types of performances found in character actors playing villainous roles (Thomas, 2013, p. 46). In the case of Arirang, “spaces of tension” emerge through juxtapositions between an international filmmaker who now struggles to make a film, Kim Ki-duk acting as interviewer and interviewee, plus the villain that Kim performs in the movie. These multiple self-performances problematize the idea of any fixed authorial identity and allow the director to experiment with different personas, all of which seek to contribute to his return to the public domain after a three-year break. The young rebellious auteur associated with extreme cinema in his early years is fictionally killed and replaced by the new authenticity of an aging director seeking to come to terms with his multiple conflicting reputations in South Korea and abroad. By portraying himself as a suffering artist in life and through this film, this kind of fiction within a self-made documentary could also be seen as a way to “reinstate [sic] the value of the work as a source of truth” (Boyle, 2019, p. 91). The method was discussed in relation to the self-perform statement to audiences by Kevin Spacey following his sexual abuse case. In light of the #MeToo movement (more on this later), a revisit to this performance and its reception also raises another question as regards to the past industrial context shaping this reputation. Arirang won the “Un Certain Regard” award at the Cannes Film Festival. This was the first time Cannes recognized Kim (despite the fact that he had already made 14 films) and it signalled his return to public, artistic life. In the context of national cinema, the film was later included in a book produced by the Korean Culture and Information Service titled The Korea Collection: Selected Cover Stories from Years Past (Haeoe, 2012), where it was placed among other films that exhibited the success and growth of South Korean cinema. While the self-reflective performance of the filmmaker could arguably be seen as self-absorbed instead of having a more profound political undertone, and may well have failed to reach a stage of “communal attunement” or communal understanding that connected the pain of the self and others (Choi, 2014, p. 79), Arirang did nonetheless exhibit Kim’s understanding of the constructed nature of his cult persona and the discursive conditions surrounding his authorial position at the time.

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

203

Cultivating a Cult Auteur Persona through Public Performances and Self-Fashioning In Arirang, Kim staged a return to his South Korean roots by featuring a folk song with the same name; this was later adopted by him within singing performances at various festivals and other invited occasions. This section elaborates on Kim’s expanded sense of self through public performances in order to draw further attention to how star-auteur culture operates, where filmmakers become sites of self-production and consumption beyond their films. Locating himself as a national auteur, upon receiving the “Un Certain Regard” award for Arirang at Cannes (Aguadilu, 2011) and the Golden Lion at Venice for his next film Pietà, the director sang the song “Arirang” on stage. It was sung by Kim in Arirang in a mournful, drunken state, loudly wailing in the hut as well as when his fictionalized self was heading towards the city to kill the three unseen villains. Yet in his festival performance, this extra-textual singing moved away from the film’s lament to more securely project Kim’s public persona as a South Korean national filmmaker. In an international film festival context, the positioning of the song after winning an award can be seen as a performance of national pride, functioning in almost the same way as a national anthem at the Olympics. In fact, Kim explained his decision to sing at Venice by saying that “This is a song that we Koreans sing when we are sad, when we feel alone, when we feel desperate, but also when we’re happy” (BBC, 2012, para. 10). In a separate interview the director explained that the song, linking it to his own film, was “an answer to his questions about people, and a ritual that cleansed his soul” (Lee, 2012, para. 15). In this latter statement, the song is presented as a way to reconcile the self and others, connecting personal and national identities together. In his discussion of South Korean folk songs (minyo), Keith Howard considers multidimensional aspects of the genre both through an idea of the “song of the people” often sung “in association with work, play and death,” and a popularized idea of national unity, emphasized by professional recordings (1999, p. 1). In relation to the former meaning, “Arirang” indicates the hardship of working-class people and feelings of resignation related to various colonial experiences such as “the loss of land or despair at hardship or unrequited love” (Howard, 1999, p. 9). Once the song had been popularized, it also alluded to the distant past and the process of rebuilding a unified nation and a celebration of national identity. In the case of the film Arirang, the folk song can therefore reflect Kim’s dual position as a former national filmmaker in a global context who had continually emphasized

204 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

his marginalization in South Korea. The lyrics of the song, referring to the unrequited love story of a woman waiting for her love to return, can also be seen in relation to Kim’s laments regarding his personal disappointments and conflicting relationships with his cast and crew at different stages, as recited in the film. The director continued to sing the song on many public occasions, including at the International Film Festival of Kerala in 2012, at the opening of the Golden Apricot Yerevan International Film Festival along with a band after receiving the Parajanov Taler special award for his contribution to world cinema in 2014 (Poupoupidou P. pictures, 2014), at the end of his masterclass at the Festival Internacional de Cine de Cartagena de Indias in Colombia in 2015, and at the Bosphorus Film Festival in 2019 (Burçe Tutku Tuncalı, 2020). In most of these instances, the translator, host, and others on the stage made room for the filmmaker to perform, creating a kind of a star-auteur showcase. Amongst film fans such as those in Kerala, audiences also participated by clapping their hands to provide a cheerful rhythm. In these singing sessions, the mood and tone of the performances were no longer a lament for one’s life but instead a celebration, allowing the filmmaker to project himself as an valued auteur through this unusual, idiosyncratic practice that was typically accompanied by a round of applause. As such, Kim’s stage performance becomes a kind of self-branded paratext. Another form of self-presentation highly evident through Kim’s public appearances was his change of persona via clothing and hairstyle. From his appearance at Cannes for Arirang onwards, the director shed his image as a young, energetic director – recognizable through his cap and casual jacket over a T-shirt, along with close-cropped hair – to represent himself as an older, mature artist, complete with long tied-back grey hair and a shabby-looking modification of traditional clothing, hanbok.1 The photocall at Cannes during the Arirang screening also saw Kim adopting various martial arts-like poses. Full-length pictures of the filmmaker from a number of photo agencies drew attention to his outfit, and his intention to show his cracked heels by standing on the heel caps of his shoes.2 Kim’s new public persona highlighted his own hardened body in direct resemblance to Arirang’s film poster, a shift which also coincided with stories circulating about his distressing circumstances. This self-fashioning further located Kim as an eccentric auteur who “attracted eyes,” somewhat in distinction 1 An article in Koreana magazine also noted Kim’s transformation into this new look (Paquet, 2013). 2 See, for example, Getty images (Celotto/Getty Images, 2011) and Alamy (Zuma/Alamy, 2011).

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

205

from the idea of showbiz glamour typically associated with international film festivals (Park, 2011). Similar to the song “Arirang,” the modified clothing also projected Kim’s complicated public image and mixed reception. On the one hand, the discussion of the clothing was used to depict the director as being “eccentric” and yet a “darling of Venice” (Lee, 2012). This contradiction is visually highlighted in Rachel Lee’s description of Kim’s eccentric persona in the Korea Times upon the release of Pietà that “[h]is eccentricities include[s] not owning a cell phone, dressing down in worn-out shoes or bare foot on the red carpet, and singing the Korean folk song ‘Arirang’ after winning the Golden Lion” (Lee, 2012, para. 3). A close-up shot of Kim’s shoes without the backheels from Reuters as he walked on the red carpet was presented with the caption “Director Kim Ki-duk arrives on the red carpet prior to the award ceremony with his bare heels showing in Venice, Saturday.” On the other hand, other media channels unpacked this self-projection by equating Kim with an alternative kind of fashion culture. Various online forums shared an article with the title “‘Shabby’ Outfit Cost W2 Million,” remarking that Kim’s fashion sense was “ahead of the times” rather than interpreting it as a result of the filmmaker not making any effort (ChosunIlbo, 2012a, 2012b, 2012c; Huidrom, 2012). This report, initially published by ChosunIlbo, elaborated on the natural fabric hemp top and cotton trousers and the Spanish brand name shoes, placing Kim as a kind of celebrity figure sporting expensive eco-clothing (2012a, para. 4). By 2018, the image of Kim Ki-duk in a modern version of hanbok had become an iconic look, mentioned in relation to the resurgence of hanbok in the contemporary South Korean context (Kim, 2014, para. 9). When given an opportunity to discuss the clothing, the director used his self-aggrandizing eccentric image as a way to position himself as at odds with the glamorous side of the film industry. In an interview published by ChosunIlbo (2012c), the filmmaker explained that: The top cost me W1.5 million and the pants W600,000. I made a big mistake. I had to show up to a TV program before going to Venice, but all I had was a pair of shorts and a sweat-soaked T-shirt. So I went shopping in Insa-dong, where I thought I could pick something suitable for around W100,000 and W200,000. When I saw the actual price tags, my heart sank, but I was really pressed for time as I had to hurry back to the studio. (ChosunIlbo, 2012c, para. 6)

Given these clothes’ expensive price tag, the director stated that he decided to wear the same outfit “to all the film festivals [he would] attend for the

206 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

next year.” The shoes, purchased after Cannes, were discussed as a pair that the director wore every day, suggesting that this expense could be seen as a kind of “forgivable sin” in comparison to people who would wear expensive clothing “to a single dinner” (ChosunIlbo, 2012c, para. 7). The story behind the “worn-out” style, similar to the dual role of the song, was employed here to create intertextual connections with Pietà (a film in which the director critiqued capitalism) (ChosunIlbo, 2012c, para. 4). This new public persona, situated beyond the realm of filmmaking, coincided with the repositioning of the filmmaker as a friendlier figure in media coverage, as I’ll consider next, although this took place before the news of sexual allegations broke, questioning all of Kim’s prior public appearances and personae, as I will go on to discuss in the final part of this chapter.

Live Streaming and Negotiating Past Tensions After Arirang, Kim Ki-duk was more engaged with carving out his authorship through public appearances. The case of a live stream offers an interesting mode of online self-presentation, allowing the filmmaker to communicate smoothly in the interview as subtitles were added by volunteer contributors. In 2016, the South Korean online live streaming platform V Live presented a session with the director (V Live, 2017). Owned by the Naver Corporation, which also operates the widely used chat application Line, V Live encouraged live chat during the video interview, and fans could pose questions to the filmmaker. Kim’s live stream attracted around 7,000 views with fan subs being available in English, Portuguese, Spanish, Indonesian and Japanese. Kim was interviewed by a young female host for half an hour, with questions ranging from the introduction of his new film The Net (2016), to conversations about his career and a celebrity “true or false” game, which purportedly allowed viewers to get to know the director more intimately. Kim appeared in his usual modified hanbok outfit, which he remarked was made for him by a local designer. He appeared to be approachable, noting that this was his first live stream, and that he would try his best to answer questions from the chat. Stills from his latest film were projected on a large LCD screen in the background throughout this live interview. The director introduced The Net via its title, said to be a metaphor for the nation, with captured fish representing enclosed citizens. The film revolves around the story of a North Korea fisherman drifting into South Korean waters. The location at Myeong-dong, also used in Kim’s other films, was emphasized as a place in Kim’s memory that was associated with capitalist

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

207

developments, rather than the more well-known Seoul. When asked about his experience working with the actor Ryoo Seung-bum, who the host suggested had similar characteristics to Kim, the director jokingly referred to both of them as “delinquents” and noted that they were referred to as “gypsies” when walking around Venice. Kim was also asked about his collaborations with actors, which he answered by emphasizing the importance of keeping stars’ personalities subordinated to those of the characters. The discussion placed Kim, who wrote the script, as the lead creative in the filmmaking process, with actors/stars working to support his story. This depiction resonates with David Andrews’s discussion of the relationship between film stars and directors within traditional auteur culture (Andrews, 2013, p. 166). The host of the live stream further positioned Kim as a star presence at the Busan International Film Festival, where he was due to appear alongside a screening of The Net, encouraging fans to attend and shake his hand. Kim was asked about recent films he had watched, something which allowed him to talk about Kim Sung-su (the director of Asura), who was introduced as an old, respected friend who had supported Kim during difficult times. In this interview, Kim’s relationships with actors and with the South Korean film industry were presented in a positive and collegial light, with Kim being introduced to an actor by another director, following new releases from fellow filmmakers, and reflecting on the development of the industry. Through a question about the period in his life which Kim would wish to return to, the interviewer opened up an opportunity for him to talk about his past, and he observed that a period in France had fostered his creative interests. The interview concluded with the host noting that Kim had become more easy-going although in the past he may have been remembered for causing upset with his public persona as an auteur of “extreme” cinema. The host proceeded to introduce a “yes-no” Q&A game with the intention to dispel any stereotypical views held by the public about the director. Kim had to answer quick-fire statements such as, “I like hearing that I’m a master,” “I like overseas film festivals more than ones in Korea,” and “I have a unique hobby.” These questions allowed Kim to explain how he appreciated South Korean film festivals, and that he was still trying to develop himself. Talking about his hobby of engaging in manual labour and building machines, the host mentioned Kim’s espresso machine, as featured in Arirang. Kim added that he had made a hand pistol when he was younger and that his bad temper led him to shoot his own finger, something which he now saw as an act of stupidity. When asked for an idea of another movie that he would want to make, Kim noted that he would like to make a film about himself that was not in the form

208 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

of a documentary like Arirang and that he would like to be an actor/protagonist in a drama. The filmmaker then drew attention to his past self-cameos, namely his small roles in The Isle and Bad Guy and that he appeared for 20 minutes in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring. Through this live stream interview, Kim’s star-auteur persona was smoothly reproduced via curated questions, along with supportive comments from the host. Kim concluded the session with a note that he is now at ease with himself, whereas his past was far more troubled, as indicated by the fact that he shot his own hand. Invoking biographical hardships, the filmmaker achieves a form of self-rebranding here, allowing him to affirm his auteur status and acknowledge his cultish bent, but also to displace this somewhat into his personal past. The V Live channel session uplifted Kim’s public image for a specific online audience; the chat generated around 200 live-chat messages. In the early part of the live session, fans sent greetings from various places, including Berlin, Los Angeles, and even Armenia. A series of comments engaged with the film such as asking about the title, the location in which it was shot, or responding to Kim’s talk about his acting in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring. The overall sentiment of these fan comments, or fan-created paratexts, involved expressing interest in the director’s new work and appreciating his past movies. Negotiating Kim’s sense of self as a filmmaker who does not speak English, this format reduced the delays and limitations of spoken translation, and allowed the director to cast himself in a positive, largely self-controlled light. Kim’s public interviews in this period3 tended to mark a transition from his earlier public image as a troubled and estranged filmmaker, rebranding him as a more engaging and personable celebrity director. However, Kim Ki-duk became the centre of attention in relation to controversies again during the release of Human, Space, Time and Human in 2018. News about his sexual harassment of actresses during the making of Moebius, combined with the #MeToo movement, led to the suspension of Kim’s public appearances. The last section of this chapter will therefore discuss the construction of Kim’s public versus private selves in the media during the premiere of his final film before his death.

#MeToo: Cult and Authorship Dismantled Since early 2018, Kim Ki-duk faced accusations of sexual abuse. The South Korean investigative TV show PD’s Notepad reported on three actresses 3

See, for example, Mblaqluver0, 2013.

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

209

who had named Kim Ki-duk and the actor Cho Jae-hyun, dubbed Kim’s “on-screen alter-ego,” as perpetrating sexual harassment during processes of filmmaking and casting4 (Noh, 2018). The TV show was widely cited by other media platforms and the accusations circulated online with over a million views (MBC PD Note, 2018; Noh, 2018). Subsequently, both local and international newspapers reported on the allegations as part of a wider South Korean version of the #MeToo movement in which a politician and a poet were also named in allegations. In this context, Kim Ki-duk became part of a wider discussion on the patriarchal structure of the film industry, globally and in South Korea. Through the exploration of media reports on the news, this section highlights how the portrayal of the director echoes the same pattern of representations and discourses found in other cases on perpetrators who were previously well-known in the film and media industry. I particularly draw on Karen Boyle’s (2019) work on Weinstein and discussions around #MeToo to illustrate the wider issue around the pattern of media reports and responses by different parties involved. As the news of #MeToo in South Korea broke out in the global media domain, one of the recurring patterns of the portrayal of the director in the news is his association with international film festivals and past awards. Images of the director accompanying this news story positioned Kim as a recognizable international filmmaker. Variety reported on an unscripted sex scene and violence on set during the filming of Moebius, accompanying this with an image of Kim in front of the 70th Venice International Film Festival backdrop in 2013 (Kil, 2017). The Guardian reported that three women had accused Kim Ki-duk of rape and assault, this time using an image of the director at the Berlin International Film Festival (Berlinale) in 2018, taken a month before the report came out (Rose, 2018). The investigative TV show, which added to the South Korean #MeToo movement in the nation’s mainstream media, replayed footage of Kim speaking at an international film festival and singing “Arirang” on stage after receiving an award for Pietà. Portraits associated with these events highlight Boyle’s discussion on the value added on the perpetrator related to the art world (2019, p. 77). The positioning of the director in these instances highlighted the imbalance in power and recognition given to women in a male-dominated auteur-driven industry. Instead, the filmmaker’s links to prestigious f ilm festivals were recurrently presented, aligning him with a transnational economy of prestige and artistic value. This framing 4 The TV show has also been uploaded online and had over two million views by 2020. (MBC PD Note, 2018).

210 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

subsequently deviates the conversation from the crimes and the victims to the cultural value of the abuser. Certain reports such as those by Jessica Kiang in Variety (below) address the system of the film festival that invited the director/penetrator, and the way certain supporters still found a way around discussing his films by separating the representation and the life of the director from the subject of his works. The controversial Korean auteur (responsible for such provocations as “Moebius” “Pietà,” and “Stop”) was recently embroiled in abuse allegations back home. Now that we’ve seen his thematically and cinematically dubious movie [Human, Space, Time and Human], the decision to invite him to a Berlinale that vociferously allies itself with the #MeToo movement seems even more questionable. […] Even the old chestnut about the separation of the art from the artist cracks apart when there’s so little discernible artistry involved, and when even the most diehard “separatist” would be strongly advised to pick a less repellent hill to die on. (Kiang, 2018, para. 7)

Different festivals responded to the news about the director abuses at the time of the #MeToo movement differently. The Yubari International Fantastic Film Festival in Japan decided to drop its invitation to the director, for example, but did keep his film as one of its opening movies (Agence FrancePresse, 2019a, para. 7). The Berlinale, which premiered Human, Space, Time and Human and invited the director for the event, responded to Variety with quotes from Dieter Kosslick, the festival director, and Paz Lazaro, the “Panorama” programmer. Lazaro noted that the festival “decided not to accept quick answers to complicated questions, and we want to create a space for open dialogue – in the cinema and beyond.” The festival director was quoted as saying that the festival “condemns all kinds of violence on set – be it of sexual or other origin” (Frater, 2018a, para. 8). Within South Korea, the Seoul International Women’s Film Festival provided a platform for the actress Lee Young-jin and other women to speak out. Lee highlighted that she “was subject to personal attacks through social media after [she] criticized Kim Ki-duk.” Chung Hyun-back, the Minister for Gender Equality and Family, also highlighted the issue of “secondary damage that victims often experience through unwanted media exposure” (Lee, H.-w., 2018, para. 9). While the sexual charges against Kim were ultimately dropped due to a lack of evidence, following this case the Hollywood Reporter remarked that the release of Human, Space, Time and Human has been postponed indefinitely (Lee, 2019, para. 7).

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

211

With the occasion to respond to the abuse allegations in Berlin during the premiere of Human, Space, Time and Human, which was also the first press event since the court ruling on the case that he assaulted an actress, the reaction by the director also gained media attention in various trade press outlets. Similar to the pattern found in the response of other sexual perpetrators, the reports reveal the way “a position of credibility” (Boyle, 2019, p. 81) was credited to the figure of the director and the crew supporting his work, “whilst the women, not least on the account of their sexualized profession [as actresses], were not” (Boyle, 2019, p. 81). The report in Variety published Kim’s explanation that: “We were rehearsing a scene, with a lot of people present. My crew did not say it was inappropriate at the time. The actress interpreted it differently,” Kim continued. “There has been a ruling. I don’t entirely agree with it, but I have shouldered the responsibility. And such rulings are part of the process of changing the film industry.” (Frater, 2018b, para. 4)

Subsequent parts of the Q&As at the Berlinale published in the news report sought to redirect the attention to the abuse allegations, although choices of words used to describe what took place seem to be disguised by different terms. These include questions about whether Kim “would like to apologize for the slapping incident” (2018b, para. 5) and if he was “going to change [his] behavior” (2018b, para. 6). Other questions posted to the director included “Do you need violence to make art?” (2018b, para. 8). This latter question particularly connects Kim’s behaviour with the extreme subject matter portrayed in many of his films. Yet, these works were described as “art” affirming the value to the perpetrator in question. The director refused to apologize and downplayed the situation as something that was “regrettable” (2018b, para. 5). He also shifted the discussion to stress the safety on set, and the importance of always respecting his cast and crew. This coincided with a response from the actress Mina Fujii, who appeared in Dream and Human, Space, Time and Human. She argued that Kim treated men and women on set in the same way, “with great respect” (Frater, 2018b, para. 7). The report ended by highlighting that Kim had thanked the festival for inviting him back, as well as addressing the media to say that he appreciated their concerns about violence but that he did not live his life as if he was in his movies (Frater, 2018b, para. 12). Apart from the media report above, the Berlinale Q&A also attracted attention of festival audiences who shared records of the event on YouTube. In these sessions, the filmmaker responded to further questions from the

212 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

audience regarding the representation of women in his films. Kim deviated from the direct discussion of his works to highlight “social structure” and “conservative thinking” in South Korean society, described as “old-fashioned” (Augentröster, 2018). He then explained that the main focus of Human, Space, Time and Human was one of nature observing mankind, set in contrast to his previous films where humans observed each other or nature. Provocative comments and questions on the “flat characters” in his films saw the filmmaker note his own limitation, which resulted in audience applause. The crowd also booed when one audience member suggested that movies should always be educational, with additional applause being given to Kim’s answer that a movie should always create questions, otherwise “the world won’t change.” Such reactions captured a very mixed reception as well as ongoing support for the filmmaker amidst the controversial media news. Disappearing from the media after the premiere, it was later reported that the director had sued a women’s rights group for “unfairly stigmatizing him as a sexual predator” (Agence France-Presse, 2019b, para. 1); this led to the cancellation of his presence at other festivals, and suspension of the release of his films. This kind of repercussion signals a larger response within the film and media communities following the #MeToo movement. The framing of Kim Ki-duk’s case as a “win for #MeToo in South Korea” in the Hollywood Reporter, with a reflection from the critic Yoon Sung-eun that “it won’t be easy for artists implicated in #MeToo to regain their foothold in the business” (Lee, H.-w., 2019, para. 8), predicted a long-term media suspension of those involved. Nevertheless, beyond the parameter of the #MeToo movement, the culture surrounding media reports on different forms of violence within the context of East Asian cinema, including instances where an established female director may be involved (see, for example, Rosser, 2022) still needs further discussion in a future study.

Conclusion Writings on film authorship often focus on directors’ success stories, international breakthroughs and overcoming of limitations (see Kapsis, 1992; Klinger, 1994), while works on stardom sometimes draw attention to stories of failure and confession (see King, 2008; Redmond, 2008). Reflecting on these two areas of research, this chapter explored the public figure of an auteur in crisis, where the creation of authorial paratexts sought (ultimately unsuccessfully) to rework a damaged public reputation over time. The chapter has traced the public persona of the South Korean filmmaker Kim Ki-duk,

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

213

who was once part of the global interest paid to the renaissance of South Korean cinema in the early 2000s and became known as a transgressive figure associated with East Asian “extreme” cinema in the Anglo-European context. The crises surrounding his work, following his self-imposed exile from around 2008, reveal a number of problematic situations regarding Kim’s ethical conduct and the operation of authorial power within the local/global film industry. Through his self-made documentary Arirang, released three years after an actress had almost been killed on one of his film sets, the filmmaker sought to perform a “self-confession,” aiming to redeem his auteur reputation and be accepted back into the public domain and the festival circuit’s status economy. Significantly, the director’s performance – constructed around his living conditions as a form of self-punishment – enabled him to (re)create a new authorial self as a former cult figure associated with past successes of “Asia Extreme” whose new persona was formed through visceral performances and eccentric public appearances. Invited to major film festivals, including Cannes, the director began wearing a modified version of South Korean national costume and singing the South Korean national folk song “Arirang,” initially performed for the film of the same name but then adopted as a reiterated paratext at public events. This almost national anthem functioned as a way to identify himself as a South Korean filmmaker in the transnational context. Meanwhile, media reporting that focused on Kim’s new self-fashioning contributed to his newfound cult celebrity status. Reworking his past conflicted relations with the industry, the filmmaker also adjusted his positions in interviews, instead stressing his amiable collaborations with actors and other filmmakers. For a period of time, these paratextual positionings allowed Kim to have a double public life, where long-standing criticism towards his representation of women, and problematic relations with local critics and advocates of transnational East Asian cinema, co-existed with his reputation as a cult figure whose eccentric persona was closely linked to the underdog stories presented in his films, and which was therefore embraced by a segment of followers and fans. These parallel paratextual meanings continued to exist up until the rise of the global #MeToo movement, which sought to expose various male figures’ abuse of power, particularly through sexual misconduct. Kim was now the subject of controversies again as the director faced sexual harassment and rape allegations from actresses who had worked on his films. The director went into a period of hiatus/withdrawal from public life, similar to that following the 2008 incident. This time, however, the global

214 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

scale of the movement led to Kim’s previously valued authorial position being suspended in many public contexts, including the international film festival circuit. His viscerally performative self-confessions, self-fashionings, and curated interviews – all of which had been adopted as modes of selfprojection in the past – no longer worked to justify public appearances as the filmmaker’s cultural/celebrity visibility and prestige were fundamentally called into question. In the age of transnational and transmedia auteur culture, this case study reveals how the use of film formats and media platforms can rework a problematic public persona, but also highlights how wider circumstances can disrupt and contest star-auteur status. The subject of authorship and the visibility that comes with different personas will be expanded further in the next chapter to highlight a type of auteur that has consistent associations with star and celebrity industries and luxury brands. This final chapter will also explore the recreation of iconic images and auteur persona in fan paratexts which proliferates in transmedia era.

Works Cited Agence France-Presse. (2019a, March 8). South Korean director Kim Ki-duk sues women’s rights group over #MeToo damages. The Straits Times. https://www. straitstimes.com/lifestyle/entertainment/south-korean-director-kim-ki-duksues-womens-rights-group-over-metoo-damages Agence France-Presse. (2019b, March 7). South Korean director Kim Ki-duk was accused of sexual assault by an actor. now he’s suing for “MeToo damages.” South China Morning Post. https://www.scmp.com/news/asia/east-asia/article/2189072/ south-korean-director-kim-ki-duk-was-accused-sexual-assault Aguadilu. (2011, May 23). Kim Ki-duk sings as he receives Un Certain Regard best film. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkJ7Vpo408Q Andrews, D. (2013). Theorizing art cinemas: Foreign, cult, avant-garde, and beyond. Austin: University of Texas Press. Augentröster. (2018, February  25). Berlinale 2018 – Q&A about “Human, Space, Time and Human.” [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=l8cxwhQz9FE&t=284s&ab_channel=Augentr%C3%B6ster BBC. (2012, September 9). South Korean film Pietà wins at Venice Film Festival. https://www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-19537242 Boyle, K. (2019). #MeToo, Weinstein and feminism. Glasgow: Palgrave Macmillan. Brottman, M. (2000). Star cults/cult stars: Cinema, psychosis, celebrity, death. In X. Mendik & G. Harper (Eds.), Unruly pleasures: The cult film and its critics (pp. 105–119). Guildford: FAB Press.

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

215

Burçe Tutku Tuncalı. (2020, April 30). Kim Ki Duk sings Arirang | Bosphorus Film Festival19 | takethefakecake. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=qXWNxyIK54w&ab_channel=takethefakecake Celotto/Getty Images. (2011, May 13). “Arirang” photocall – 64th annual Cannes Film Festival. https://www.gettyimages.ie/detail/news-photo/director-kim-ki-dukattends-the-arirang-photocall-during-news-photo/114142316?uiloc=thumbnail_ more_from_this_event_adp Choi, J. (2014). The ethics of contemplation: Kim Ki-duk’s Arirang. In J. Choi & M. Frey (Eds.), Cine-ethics: Ethical dimensions of film theory, practice and spectatorship (pp. 79–95). New York and Oxon: Routledge. ChosunIlbo. (2012a, September 11). Re: Golden Lion winner’s ‘shabby’ outf it cost W2 million. [Online forum post]. Soompi. https://forums.soompi.com/ topic/64201-dir-kim-ki-duk-%EA%B9%80%EA%B8%B0%EB%8D%95/page/5/ ChosunIlbo. (2012b, September 11). Re: Golden Lion winner’s “shabby” outfit cost W2 million. [Online forum post]. CARI. https://mforum.cari.com.my/forum. php?mod=viewthread&tid=647443&extra=&page=36 ChosunIlbo. (2012c, September 13). Golden Lion winner explains ‘shabby’ Venice outf it. Chosun Media. http://english.chosun.com/site/data/html_ dir/2012/09/13/2012091301266.html Chung, H. S. (2012). Kim Ki-duk. Champaign: University of Illinois Press. Dew, O. (2007). “Asia Extreme”: Japanese cinema and British hype. New Cinemas: Journal of Contemporary Film, 5(1), 53–73. Egan, K., & Thomas, S. (Eds.). (2013). Cult film stardom: Offbeat attractions and processes of cultification. Hampshire and New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Finecut Co. Ltd. (2011). Arirang. Festival de Cannes. https://www.festival-cannes. com/en/films/arirang Frater, P. (2018a, February 14). Berlinale tackles #MeToo debate, accused of sexual violence hypocrisy. Variety. https://variety.com/2018/film/festivals/berlinalehypocrisy-in-sexual-violence-metoo-debate-1202698544/#article-comments Frater, P. (2018b, February 17). Berlin: Kim Ki-duk responds to #MeToo accusers, talks violence in movies. Variety. https://variety.com/2018/f ilm/asia/ berlin-kim-ki-duk-metoo-accusers-violence-in-movies-1202703301/ Haeoe, H. (2012). The Korea collection: Selected cover stories from years past. Seoul: Korean Culture and Information Service. Howard, K. (1999). Minyo in Korea: Songs of the people and songs for the people. Asian Music, 30(2), 1–37. Huidrom, Y. (2012, September 11). Golden Lion winner’s “shabby” outfit cost W2 million. [Blog post]. Blogspot. http://mystickorea.blogspot.com/2012/09/shabbyoutfit-cost-w2-million.html IMDb. (2011). Arirang. IMDb. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1922551/

216 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Kapsis, R. E. (1992). Hitchcock: The making of a reputation. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Kiang, J. (2018, February 18). Berlin film review: “Human, Space, Time and Human.” Variety. https://variety.com/2018/film/reviews/human-space-time-and-humanreview-berlinale-2018-1202696532/ Kil, S. (2017, August 4). South Korean director Kim Ki-duk accused of violence on set, unscripted sex scene. Variety. https://variety.com/2017/f ilm/asia/ kim-ki-duk-accused-of-violence-unscripted-sex-scene-1202515698/ Kim, J.-s. (2014, November 30). Lee Hye-soon holds onto Hanbok tradition 이혜순, 대중을 한복으로 회귀시킨다. Korea Times. http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/ art/2018/04/688_169023.html King, B. (2008). Stardom, celebrity and the para-confession. Social Semiotics, 18(2), 115–132. Klinger, B. (1994). Melodrama and meaning: History, culture, and the films of Douglas Sirk. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Lee, H.-w. (2014, May 20). Cannes: Dangerous price for realism in South Korean cinema. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/ movie-news/cannes-dangerous-price-realism-south-706125/ Lee, H.-w. (2018, June 5). South Korean actress Lee Young-jin reveals why she spoke out against Kim Ki-duk. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter. com/news/kim-ki-duk-metoo-movement-discussed-at-seoul-1117226 Lee, H.-w. (2019, January 11). Kim Ki-duk case seen as win for #MeToo in South Korea. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/ kim-ki-duk-case-seen-as-win-metoo-south-korea-1175383 Lee, R. (2012, September 9). From eccentric to darling of Venice. Korea Times. http:// www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/art/2012/09/141_119461.html Martin, D. (2015). Extreme Asia: The rise of cult cinema from the Far East. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Mathijs, E., & Sexton, J. (2011). Cult cinema: An introduction. Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell. MBC PD Note. (2018, March 6). PD Notebook EP.1145 “movie director Kim Kiduk, master’s naked face.” [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=g3u1YuqcsGY Mblaqluver0. (2013). [ENG SUBS] Lee Joon & director Kim Ki-duk interview. Daily Motion. https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x16in48 Noh, J. (2018, March 7). Kim Ki-duk, Cho Jae-hyun accused of multiple sexual assaults in TV expose. Screen Daily. https://www.screendaily.com/news/kimki-duk-cho-jae-hyun-accused-of-multiple-sexual-assaults/5127278.article Paquet, D. (2013). Outsider director Kim Ki-duk grabs Golden Lion in Venice. Koreana, 26(4), 62–67.

The Auteur in Crisis: Self- confessions and Performative Excess

217

Park, M.-y. (2011, May 16). Kim Ki-duk’s one-man production creates a stir. Korea Herald. https://www.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20110516000839 Poupoupidou P. pictures. (2014, July 14). Kim Ki-duk singing at Golden Apricot 2014 IFF opening. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VE7xpDK5P4 Redmond, S. (2008). Pieces of me: Celebrity confessional carnality. Social Semiotics, 18(2), 149–161. Rose, S. (2018, March 7). Three women accuse Korean director Kim Ki-duk of rape and assault. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/mar/07/ three-woman-accuse-korean-director-kim-ki-duk-rape-assault Rosser, M. (2022, June 8). Japanese filmmaker Naomi Kawase accused of assault on set. Screen Daily. https://www.screendaily.com/news/japanese-filmmakernaomi-kawase-accused-of-assault-on-set/5171470.article Shin, C.-Y. (2008). Art of branding: Tartan “Asia Extreme” films. Jump Cut: A Review of Contemporary Media, 50. http://www.ejumpcut.org/archive/jc50.2008/ TartanDist/text.html Thomas, A. (2013). “Marginal moments of spectacle”: Character actors, cult stardom and Hollywood cinema. In K. Egan & S. Thomas (Eds.), Cult film stardom: Offbeat attractions and processes of cultification (pp. 37–54). Hampshire and New York: Palgrave Macmillan. V Live. (2017). 김기덕 라이브 인’뷰 Kim Ki-Duk live interview. https://www.vlive.tv/video/14633?lang=th Yu, H. H. C. (2009). 61st Venice Film Festival [Kim Ki Duk / 3 Iron]. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= fTgiJYx4ZiM&ab_channel=HaydenH.CYu Zuma/Alamy. (2011). Actor Kim Ki-Duk attends the “Arirang” photocall during the 64th annual Cannes film festival. https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-actorkim-ki-duk-attends-the-arirang-photocall-during-the-64th-annual-42899439. html

6. Celebrity Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies Abstract: This chapter extends discussion on the self-projections of auteurs as part of an increasingly mediated screen culture to the consistent branding and championing of a specific filmmaker as a star/celebrity auteur. Focusing on Wong Kar-wai, known for his conspicuous use of sunglasses, references to cigarette smoke and an aura of jazz filmmaking, the chapter explores this filmmaker’s “cool” star image, along with his collaborations in the transnational fashion industry and with high-end brands that have helped to foster Wong’s public celebrity status. The chapter also examines fan embodiments of Wong’s star-auteur persona; these reveal the way that the filmmaker’s body and body of work have been reworked as memes or pastiches, allowing others to engage in the extension of self in contemporary participatory culture. Keywords: persona, sunglasses, jazz, branding, meme, embodiment

As part of expanded transmedia auteur culture and the growth of East Asian cinema in the last two decades, I have so far highlighted the way two selected East Asian auteurs (Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Kim Ki-duk) responded to market demands for authorial presentations and dramatizations, studying different forms of paratextual self-projection. Significantly, these paratexts function as a form of creative and self-reflective negotiation, allowing the f ilmmakers to respond to the sociocultural climate and discourses surrounding their works and reputations. This chapter continues to explore how f ilmmakers and associated parties respond to public interest around the f igure of the f ilm auteur, with a particular focus on a director who has been framed as a star-auteur and a celebrity figure, especially through wider commercial domains. My third case study in Part II of this book is thus the Hong Kong-based filmmaker Wong Kar-wai, whose public persona is highly recognizable and who has

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_ch06

220 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

become a source of cultural fascination just as much as his stylized movies have since the early 2000s. In my earlier account which explored Wong Kar-wai’s transnational stardom, emphasis was on the “hybrid Chineseness” shaped by Wong’s consistent public biography as a Shanghai-born, Hong Kong-based filmmaker who grew up with multicultural influences, reflected in his works (see Promkhuntong, 2014). I paid attention to the fluid identities shaped by “power structures of nations and states” that feed into accounts of transnational film stars (Meeuf & Raphael, 2016, p. 3). This, in turn, allowed an exploration of the director’s transnational authorial position in relation to shared cultural memories and stories of border-crossing. Apart from these geopolitical contexts that intersect with notions of identity, ethnicity (and gender in the case of female stars), which have been the key emphasis in studies of East Asian stardom (see, for example, chapters in Leung & Willis, 2014), the star-auteur/celebrity positions of Wong Kar-wai are in fact far more multifaceted as the fields of film/media authorship and star/celebrity culture have become closely linked. To address this multifaceted quality, this chapter explores paratexts by the filmmaker, critics, and film fans which have been formed through associations with various cultural industries and fan groups. Since the 1990s, the importance of auteurs’ public personae has been explored as part of the reputation making of a filmmaker (see Kapsis, 1992; Seligmann, 2017). While in the age of classical Hollywood and for notable figures such as Alfred Hitchcock, public fascination was associated with critical endorsements and television appearances, in the transmedia era of contemporary auteur culture, star-auteur reputations have been expanded into, and appropriated in, very diverse forms of paratexts. The first aspect of self-projection examined in this chapter is the way that the director and associated parties formulated an iconic image through consistent reference to Wong’s sunglasses and a mood associated with the discourse of jazz in popular culture, both of which helped to constitute the persona of a cool, hip filmmaker in the early part of his career. Highlighting Wong’s involvement with numerous regional and global stars, the second dimension of auteur-stardom that I explore concerns his connections with celebrity culture through commercial projects running across many different industries. This imagined persona of Wong Kar-wai in association with global lifestyle brands (i.e. luxury car, perfume, and cosmetics brands) is particularly important in highlighting the expanded public presentation of an auteur, even when there is a long gap between the release of his feature films. The final part of the chapter explores the extension of Wong’s public

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

221

persona by film fans, particularly how fan filmmakers make use of his recognizable trademarks for their own artistic practices and sociopolitical reflections. While authorship adopted by a film star suggests the “deep authenticity” associated with control and authority (King, 2015, p. 240), a filmmaker’s associations with stardom and commercial celebrity can, by contrast, reveal how performances and masquerades mystify and idolize the film auteur over time.

Sunglasses, Jazz Ambience, and the Cool Star-Auteur The exploration of public image has been one of the key strands for exploring film stardom since the 1970s (see Dyer, 1979; Shingler, 2012, p. 20). The examination of actors’ screen roles alongside their appearances in film paratexts and other off-screen/extra-textual activities has revealed the ideological meanings of stars shaped by the film industry (Dyer, 1979, p. 1) and also by the stars themselves (King, 2003, p. 52). Collective impressions of stars have been explored “not to determine the correct meaning and affect [of a star-auteur persona], but rather to determine what meanings and affects can legitimately be read in them” (Dyer, 1979, p. 3). Considering the reflections below by John Powers, the author of WKW: The Cinema of Wong Kar Wai (2016b). The recognizable star-auteur persona of Wong has long been associated with the director’s consistent use of sunglasses when presenting himself as a filmmaker. The seemingly minimal putting on and taking off of sunglasses presents a divide between performatively public/professional and private/personal space, helping to create star-auteur conditions for Wong Kar-wai: We’d first met at a dinner thrown by Quentin Tarantino to celebrate the distribution of Wong’s 1994 romantic comedy Chungking Express, which did for Hong Kong what the Nouvelle Vague did for Paris. I spent the evening across from Wong, who was then a formidably hip young man who, for some reason, wore sunglasses indoors at night. I didn’t yet realize that these shades were an artistic trademark: When Wong puts them on, he’s on duty as WKW, Director. […] Every couple of years – in Hong Kong or Busan, Beverly Hills or Toronto – we’d go to dinner and spend a few hours chatting about everything from Martin Scorsese to Chinese celebrity gossip to the shockingly early closing

222 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

hours of L.A. restaurants, which offend Wong’s night-owl sensibilities. Along the way, he began taking off his sunglasses. (Powers, 2016a, para. 3 and 6, my emphasis)

The writer’s memories of meeting Wong Kar-wai and getting to know the director draw repeatedly on these iconic sunglasses to highlight the starauteur position of Wong, also known through the “WKW” brand name (and I will say more on this later). Viewed in relation to celebrity culture, the use of sunglasses as a demarcated division between public and private has long been promoted as part of “modern glamour” and “life in the light” for celebrities since the 1920s and 1930s in Europe and the United States (Gill-Brown, 2018, p. 61). Ideologically, as a kind of object presenting the idea of anonymity and detachment from the media spotlight, sunglasses have been examined as a way to avoid the gaze of the media and other “challenges of modernity” placed upon individuals (Gill-Brown, 2018, p. 96). In relation to stars, sunglasses suggested the idea of being “off duty” as stars arrived on set without makeup (Gill-Brown, 2018, p. 85). As a site invoking curiosity about the hidden private self, the act of putting on sunglasses can be seen as a kind of performative prop to stardom, invoking public and fan interest in the multiplicity of meanings that could lie behind an individual celebrity’s practiced façade. Specifically, in the context of Wong Kar-wai’s public persona, critics have raised questions about the director’s real reasons for his extensive use of sunglasses. In various writings, there are remarks that Wong is sensitive to bright light (Molitorisz, 2005, para. 2–3; Jeffrey, 2015, para. 6) and that the glasses he wears have “true colour” lenses, similar to those used by pilots, allowing him to see the same colours as eyeglasses (Wei, 2008, para. 3). These “real” reasons aside, Wong’s playful responses to journalists’ interpretations of his use of sunglasses have another function: acknowledging his consistent star-auteur status. The various instances where sunglasses have been drawn on to represent Wong Kar-wai and his works reveal the expanded discursive construction of Wong as a celebrated and mediated auteur in relation to art cinema, jazz, and celebrity culture. Since 2000, Wong has playfully drawn attention to his use of sunglasses when explaining his filmmaking processes. He remarked in an interview with Time Asia that by wearing sunglasses at a film festival, he can go to sleep and not have to watch his submitted film again (Short, 2000, para. 10). In this instance, the sunglasses were incorporated as part of the director’s story on his “quest for perfectionism,” something which led to the notably late submission of his film to Cannes (Teo, 2005, p. 9).

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

223

As a masked/mysterious site (and sight) that allows critics to engage with his films, sunglasses have also become a starting point for the critical interpretation of Wong’s early movies. Various reviews of Wong’s films have been published with titles such as “Wong Kar-wai Apparently Does Take off His Sunglasses Sometimes,” in relation to his Hollywood production My Blueberry Nights (Hartman, 2008) or “Wong Kar-wai’s Shades Kept Me in the Dark” (Brooks, 2008), in relation to the re-release of Ashes of Time redux. In these instances, the sunglasses allow critics to create distinctions between Wong’s commercial film collaboration with Hollywood and his more usual artistic style. Beyond a metaphor employed to facilitate reviews of Wong’s movies based on their approachability, the director’s trademark sunglasses have also supported a discourse of his cool and detached star-auteur status. Interviewers describe the interconnectedness of the sunglasses with a noirish ambience and a halo of cigarette smoke, with Wong’s persona being formed in a way that mimics the environments of his films. In the opening passage of various interviews with Wong, such as the Los Angeles Times’s article “Hong Kong’s Poet of Regret” published in 2005, we get this kind of “cool” auteur scene-setting: The impassive Hong Kong director Wong Kar-Wai, blinking behind sunglasses that almost never come off and shrouded in his own cigarette smoke, tends to pause before speaking. He offers slow, thoughtful answers about film and filmmaking in accented English. (Timberg, 2005, para. 1)

A similar mood and tone can be found in an interview by China Daily in 2008 with this opening statement: Dressed in his trademark sunglasses and black suit, 50-year-old Wong Kar-wai, whose latest offering My Blueberry Nights starring Norah Jones and Jude Law premiered last month, stepped into the interview room. “Can I smoke?” His voice was gentle. He lit a cigarette but most of the time just let the smoke curl around him, instead of smoking. Behind the black glasses and the gray smoke, he seemed as mysterious as the love stories in his films. Perhaps, it is his way of getting into the mood for an interview. (Wei, 2008, para. 1–2)

These descriptions are written in such way that Wong’s aesthetics and cinematic universe are reconstructed in the process of an interview and its journalistic write-up. Accompanying these articles are usually photographic

224 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

portraits of Wong Kar-wai wearing the iconic square sunglasses, dressed in a black or white shirt, and shot in low-key lighting or with neon-coloured lights, with a cigarette between his fingers. The setting and cigarette smoke further allude to various stills of male protagonists in Wong’s films, notably Chow Mo-wan (played by Tony Leung) in In the Mood for Love (2000), who smokes constantly while contemplating his unrequited desire. The ambience conveyed in these instances shares marked similarities with the visual discourse associated with film noir and jazz culture, as found in the environments and photographs discussed by Krin Gabbard (1996), as well as chiming with the use of jazz soundtracks to create a mood of self-contemplation in a number of Wong’s movies. This includes the notable scene of failed romance between Cop 223 and the blonde May in Chungking Express (1995) accompanied by a non-diegetic background music track: “Rain, Tear and Sweat” by Frankie Chan & Roel A. Garcia; the clash of anger and desire through the jazz-rock fusion track “Chunga’s Revenge” by Frank Zappa in Happy Together (1997); and the jazz ballad by Nat King Cole in In the Mood for Love. The latter film also offers up an original bonus track “Blue” by the composer Michael Galasso which drew influences from the jazz standard “St. James Infirmary Blues” (Walker, 2006). Importantly, the “aura” and “the living contexts” of jazz in Gabbard’s exploration are constituted not only through the music but also through elements such as “[t]he carefully cultivated atmosphere in nightclubs, the photographs on album covers [Francis Wolff’s photos with cigarettes and sunglasses], […] the colored lights that play on musicians in concert halls, [and] the studied aloofness of the performers” (Gabbard, 1996, p. 1). Considering the broader staging of Wong’s auteur persona through the iconography of sunglasses, cigarette smoke, ambient lighting, black suits, and a gentle voice, jazz associations blend into the discursive construction of his star image and add a sense of crossing taste distinctions between art and popular culture, celebrity and artist. Extending from the association of sunglasses with glamour and film stars to the context of jazz, Wong’s sunglasses can be read as a form of detachment and individualism, whereby as an artist he is focused on his own vision instead of outside demands. In relation to jazz musicianship, this tension has also been explored through the race and masculinity of non-white artists in the spotlight, whereby normative whiteness is subtly challenged through a sense of detachment and “an outsider cool” (Gill-Brown, 2018, p. 95). Considering Wong’s hybrid Chineseness, this kind of cultural association coincides with his positioning in the context of Anglo-European artists, where he too has a cool, detached sensibility.

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

225

Jazz as a mode of filmmaking in connection with the French New Wave and authorship has also been drawn upon in relation to Wong Kar-wai on multiple occasions. An interview between Jean-Baptise Thoret, a French historian and film critic, and Gilles Mouëllic (who teaches jazz and cinema) on the subject of those who “continue to carry the flame of jazz cinema” (Thoret, 2013 [2000], para. 22) linked Wong Kar-wai to other filmmakers, including the American director Jim Jarmusch and the members of the aforementioned French New Wave. Mouëllic referred to Chungking Express as a film which “experiments brilliantly with a radical form: a taste for polyphony, dissonance, breaks, loss of speed” (Thoret, 2013 [2000], para. 23). Talking about the ways in which jazz and the French New Wave are connected through their modes of working, Mouëllic drew on “syncopation,” in which various elements come together despite their differences, to explain that jazz goes beyond both music and filmmaking (Thoret, 2013 [2000], para. 6–7). Mouëllic noted that “[o]ne can’t say, for example, that when Godard shot Breathless/À bout de souffle (1960), he was making a film directly drawn from jazz. But the work on syncopation, editing and, above all, Belmondo’s body – they’re all elements one finds in jazz” (Thoret, 2013 [2000], para. 7). Through this jazz discourse, the connection between Wong and his public persona further allows the filmmaker to be contextualized within canonical histories of Anglo-European film authorship. Profitably, the freestyle and spontaneous filmmaking associated with jazz music also extends beyond solo authorship into collaborative processes and intertextualities, linking Wong to his “band,” including his long-term set-designer and cinematographer. The collaborative process between Wong and William Chang and Christopher Doyle has even been directly described “as being like a jazz band jamming” (Romney, 2000, para. 8). The kind of syncopation and overall mood and tone of Wong’s films in relation to jazz filmmaking can also be found when critics discuss Wong’s early works as having a jazzy style (Mash, 2014, para. 2; Romney, 2000, para. 5). The performative, collaborative yet detached star-auteur persona linked to this idea of jazz culture is one possible staging of self for Wong, which brings him into the associations with individualism, spontaneity, and the coolness of a transnational artist. Over time, Wong’s consistent use of sunglasses has been read beyond its associations with his films and filmmaking and within the gossip of star discourse. Aware of the attention given to his sunglasses, the director eventually deviated from answering a standard question about his use of shades by stating instead that he “enjoy[ed] reading all the different theories” (Lee A., 2014, para. 16). This opening up of opportunities to participate in

226 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Wong’s star discourses is evidenced in various discussions by film fans. In 2013 the website Wongkarwai.net, a longstanding fan page covering stories about the director and his work, published a report by CriOnline featuring the story of Wong and his wife visiting a shop to look for a pair of glasses “at a Causeway bay optical store” (Jeffrey, 2013, para. 1). This story linked the time taken for the filmmaker to pick a pair of glasses (“over an hour”) to the way Wong is seen to be very “selective” when making his movies (Jeffrey, 2013, para. 1). A paparazzi-like image of Wong not wearing sunglasses while with his wife, who did have sunglasses on, was used to accompany the story, along with a description that “his wife became the ‘female Wong Kar-wai’” while the director himself was “almost” not recognizable without his glasses (Jeffrey, 2013, para. 1). Quoting the actor Eric Tsang to the effect that Wong Kar-wai was “born wearing sunglasses” (Jeffrey, 2013, para. 2), these instances highlight the importance of sunglasses to Wong Kar-wai’s star-auteur image. A fan interest in snapshots of Wong taking off his sunglasses or wearing eyeglasses instead also affirms Wong’s celebrity life where his personal time has become the subject of media and fan attention. Sabrina Yu (2018) has discussed the performative turn in film stardom, which encourages explorations of masquerade and various kinds of objects and texts through which to formulate and reveal the construction of the star persona. Such masquerade does not only apply to mediated industry processes but also to the processes shaped by stars and audiences themselves (Yu, 2018, p. 3). Viewed through this lens, Wong’s use of sunglasses and his various playful responses illustrate a performative masking and unmasking of the star-auteur, and the acute awareness of this filmmaker that celebrity/star discourses increasingly feed into film authorship in today’s transmedia culture.

Luxury Brands and “Chains of Attraction” in Celebrity Culture Apart from the formulation of a star-auteur brand through his consistent public persona with its rich cultural associations, Wong Kar-wai has extensively collaborated with high-end lifestyle products, further linking the filmmaker to industries that circulate celebrity status. Various connections between the established auteur and commercial brands, along with associated transmedia stars in these marketing projects, can be seen as part of the “chains of attraction” (Rojek, 2001, p. 12) that have sustained Wong’s star-auteur position in wider commercial domains. In the realm of celebrity culture, chains of attraction have been discussed in relation to various “cultural intermediaries” that foster the public

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

227

recognition of a celebrity, running from “agents, publicists […] photographers, [and] fitness trainers, [through to] wardrobe staff” (Rojek, 2001, p. 12). In relation to Wong Kar-wai, early chains of attraction within Hong Kong cinema created links between the filmmaker and the realm of regional pop culture and transmedia stars. Wong’s early works saw him collaborate with Cantopop singers, and actors and models, including Rebecca Pan, Leslie Chung, Tony Leung, Faye Wong, Michelle Reis, and Brigitte Lin. Given the nature of multimedia connections across television, music, and film industries in Hong Kong, these early chains of attraction took place “naturally” as part of the industrial structures in play. Aside from his feature films, television commercials also extended Wong’s relations with film stars into transnational networks. His early pan-Asian collaborations can be traced back to wkw/tk/1996@7’55’’hk.net, a commercial for the Japanese designer Takeo Kikuchi. The co-branding of the two creatives is evident in the initials of the director and the designer placed in the project title. In this commercial, the actress Karen Mok – who also performed in Wong’s early films – acts out a fighting game with her partner (played by the Japanese comedian Tadanobu Asano) in a dimly lit apartment. Asano’s reputation as a cool pan-Asian star (Ciecko, 2014) known in relation to Japanese transnational cult film, and who appeared in pan-Asian new wave movies in the early 2000s, linked Wong’s public persona to a network of regional films and stars working across cinema and advertising domains. Another commercial featuring Asano and directed by Wong was for Motorola mobile phones, where he was joined by the Hong Kong/Chinese pop star Faye Wong, known internationally through her role in Chungking Express. Outside Hong Kong, Wong’s early connections with the Hollywood director Quentin Tarantino paved the way for his introduction to a crossover sector of celebrity filmmakers with global film connections. Wong has subsequently been endorsed by established filmmakers/stars, including Martin Scorsese, Ang Lee, and Samuel L. Jackson. His connections with transnational auteur culture were also mediated by invitations to join omnibus commercial projects for global brands alongside other filmmakers. For instance, Wong joined 12 other international directors, including David Lynch, Wim Wenders, Spike Lee, and Francis Ford Coppola for a project called “Morning around the World” commissioned by JCDecaux (Chen, 2016, p. 570). As the growth of omnibus commissioned short films by celebrated auteurs rose in the early 2000s, Wong was also invited to join projects such as Eros (2004). This combined a short film by Michelangelo Antonioni with two filmmakers inspired by him; Wong Kar-wai and Steven Soderbergh. And along with 35 filmmakers from 25 countries, Wong was part of the

228 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Cannes Film Festival’s commissioned work to celebrate the festival’s 60th anniversary under the theme To Each His Own Cinema (2007). Apart from associations with transnational film stars and global film industry networks, the status of Wong Kar-wai has also been firmly shaped by his collaborations with international brands linking celebrity, fashion, luxury products, and cinema together. A myriad of brand associations allowed the filmmaker to expand his reputation beyond the film and music industries and into a range of high-end taste/consumer cultures. While Wong has joined many commercial projects as a director, and more recently as a curator (Chen, 2016), a closer look at the case of his BMW commercial and a series of perfume advertisements can illuminate how this star-auteur operates through branded chains of attraction. It is also important to note that these projects took place at a time when the links between celebrity culture and the fashion industry had been fostered through film authorship and visual culture to the extent that this was seen as a new kind of “interdependency” (Church Gibson, 2012, pp. 1, 10). This in turn created a new kind of auteur/artist/star/celebrity persona for Wong. The high-profile omnibus short film series for the luxury car firm BMW “The Hire,” with David Fincher as executive producer, premiered in the American Pavilion at the International Film Festival in Cannes in 2001 (Press.bmwgroup.com, 2001). Within the series, Wong Kar-wai directed The Follow, alluding to the aesthetics and sentiment found in Chungking Express, Happy Together, and In the Mood for Love. Its storyline revolves around the character of an aging star (Mickey Rourke) who hires a man to follow his wife (played by the model Adriana Lima). The British actor Clive Owen took the lead role, a driver who is paid to follow the wife. During a car chase, Owen’s voice-over describes his tactics not to be seen while following another car, as well as the processes of waiting and observing. The pursuit leads Owen to the airport, where the character played by Lima is buying a ticket to Brazil and waiting to board her plane. With the flight delayed, she falls asleep with sunglasses on. An overnight wait at the airport lounge sees Owen moving ever closer in his observations of Lima, until he finally realizes that she has bruising around her eyes. The story ends as Owen drives back to return the money for the job and asks not to be contacted again. Examining the close associations between fashion and the culture of new celebrity in the age of transmedia, Pamela Church Gibson lists filmmakers such as David Lynch, Baz Luhrmann, and Wong Kar-wai who have each worked with luxury brands and fostered a “new auteurism” by employing products and brands in their films while directing commercials for luxury

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

229

items (2012, p. 93). Church Gibson is particularly interested in the figure of Tom Ford, who has shifted from being a designer to a filmmaker, and Andy Warhol, who wove together the roles of artist, designer, and celebrity figure. In the case of Wong Kar-wai, his collaboration with BMW took place at an opportune time in the early 2000s when high-end brands had begun investing in the idea of presenting a total lifestyle to potential consumers (Atkinson, 2012, para. 12). The lifestyle idealized in this commercial projected the brand of Wong Kar-wai in relation to ideas of high income, expertise, and chivalric masculinity marked by moments of tenderness – all patterns of meaning which can be found in Wong’s feature films and other commercials. The storyline of this particular commercial is also linked to a theme of trying not to get too close, and avoiding personal intimacy, again as found in many of Wong’s films, including Days of Being Wild and Fallen Angels. The strength and vulnerability of the character played by Lima also resonates with the character May (Brigitte Lin) in Chungking Express. Further connecting the auteur to a total lifestyle through high-end brands, the persona of Wong Kar-wai has also been shaped through perfume products that call up the imagination of Wong’s movies and their characters. After directing two early commercials for Dior’s “Capture Totale” in 2005 and Lancôme’s “Hypnôse Femme” and “Hypnôse Homme” (also featuring Clive Owen) in 2007, Wong Kar-wai collaborated with Dior again to direct a commercial for its perfume “Midnight Poison” in late 2007 (Chen, 2016). This “Midnight Poison” advert staged a version of a Cinderella story whereby the star of the night, played by actress/model Eva Green, had to run up onto the stage in time to join a countdown party in an opera theatre (see Why Us?, 2015). The glamour of Dior is represented through Green’s dark blue haute couture dress, large gem necklace, and the grandeur of setting. This branding is mixed with a femme fatale persona, cued by Eva Green’s bold makeup and the song “Space Dementia” by the British band Muse. And by disturbing the space of theatre, associated with opera, with a progressive metal track, the idea of the perfume “Midnight Poison” is further conveyed as energetic and rebellious. A similar strategy of meaning making has been discussed in relation to Wong’s “aesthetic of disturbance,” created through the interruption of genre conventions in his feature films (Bettinson, 2015). Similar to auteurist feature films with their additional behind-the-scenes paratexts, Dior’s “Midnight Poison” commercial was also circulated along with a making-of video featuring Wong at work. The video, made available on YouTube by various users (see Kokkissimo, 2010; MegaJaczek, 2011), portrays Wong behind a camera monitor and performing various moves for Green to observe. Using an instrumental version of the commercial’s soundtrack, here

230 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Wong’s body is the focal point, wearing his iconic sunglasses and exuding aesthetic traits of cool, glamour, and mystery. The following year, the director worked on a commercial for Ralph Lauren’s “Notorious” (2008). This time, Wong adopted the harmonious jazz track “Maids of Cadiz” by Miles Davies to accompany images resonating with those from In the Mood for Love, such as a mysterious woman walking upstairs in slow motion (see Anabelanduaga, 2008). This mood piece could be seen as a reversioning and an extension of the seductive, affective universe of Wong Kar-wai’s key feature film. In 2019, Wong’s star-auteur persona within the perfume industry reached new heights as the brand Carine Roitfeld adopted the persona of “Kar-wai” as part of its perfume collection. Launched by the former editor-in-chief for Vogue Paris, the perfume was described as genderless and “inspired by seven fictional lovers from seven cities around the world” (Krueger, 2019). “Kar-wai” is an idea associated with a lover from Hong Kong; it was created by the perfumier Pascal Gaurin, who had spent time working there in the past, and was inspired by Roitfeld’s remarks on In the Mood for Love as a film she loves. The still advertisement for the “Kar-wai” scent projects notions of romance through images of a staircase and a sensuous feminine figure wearing a lace dress and high heels. Shot in black and white, the commercial is reminiscent of Wong’s films as well as his earlier perfume commercials. This persona of “Kar-wai,” imagined through passionate unrequited desire and the city of Hong Kong as remembered through fragrances of tea and Osmanthus, further extends Wong’s detached, cool persona into a particularly sensuous landscape. Alongside commercial projects by the perfume industry, Wong Kar-wai and In the Mood for Love have also been imagined and interpreted by fans in order to review a range of fragrances. David Yi, writing for Very Good Light, introduced the Swedish niche perfume Byredo’s “Rose Noir” as the smell of Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, particularly the atmosphere of character Chow Mo-wan with Su Li-Zhen (2019, para. 1). The top note is light with grapefruit and freesia, followed by the middle note of Damascena rose “made potent and contemporary once again by darkening its character” (2019, para. 6) through base notes of moss, musk, and citrus. The same film was cited by the French perfume brand Roos & Roos in 2019 via its collection “In the Wood for Love,” which was said to be inspired by Wong’s movie (Lifestyle Beautiful, 2019, para. 1). This scent was described with fresh top notes of citrus and a darker base similar to the mood mentioned by Byredo’s perfume (2019, para. 4). As a fragrance with no direct association to Wong Kar-wai the filmmaker, an imagined sense of Wong could nonetheless

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

231

be channelled through his key film and into ideas of sensuous romance and longing. Considering the tradition of star/celebrity culture in creating “identification/emulation centered on consumption practices” through items such as “perfume, chocolate, clothes and cigarettes” (Holmes & Redmond, 2012, p. 122), these chains of attraction create a commercial appeal associated with Wong despite bearing no actual relationship to his own private life or scent preferences. Throughout this chapter so far, I have discussed the concept of Wong Kar-wai as a brand with different phases, moving from the formulation of an iconic star-persona, into sentiments associated with jazz, before examining the various chains of attraction that have constituted the public persona of Wong Kar-wai as a star/celebrity auteur. The adoption of the name “Kar-wai” in the context of Carine Roitfeld’s perfume, instead of “Wong” or “Wong Karwai,” is a more unusual reference. However, through its various commercial paratexts of perfume, the “Kar-wai” product label is undoubtedly still linked to the filmic universe of the Hong Kong director. While all of the products surveyed above have contributed to Wong’s star/celebrity position, it is worth noting that in recent years official collectible items associated with the director have adopted the trademark “WKW” in an attempt to create uniquely branded auteurist distinctions. The public awareness of “WKW” as a brand has been shaped over time by the filmmaker, his collaborators, and critics. I mentioned earlier on that “wkw” (not in capital letters) had been used in combination with the initials of the Japanese designer Takeo Kikuchi in the title for the commercial wkw/tk/1996@7’55’’hk.net back in 1996. Around the same time, Christopher Doyle’s writings about the experience of filming Happy Together (1997) in Argentina, with an introduction by Tony Rayns, referred to Wong using the short form “WKW.” This account was published in various venues, i.e. Sight & Sound, as part of the book Projections 8 by Faber & Faber, and it was circulated online by Wong’s fans (see Doyle, 1997). Doyle switched between using “Wong” and “WKW” in his reflections. On various occasions, the initials were used to signify Wong as an unique auteur/collaborator; for example, in an entry entitled “The Eyes of WKW,” Doyle wrote: Every other day WKW says, “You’re my eyes” – especially if we’re stealing a shot or having to move too fast to set up the tv monitor. Sometimes it sounds encouraging, sometimes more like a threat. Most often it’s a huge responsibility. But sometimes I wish I could be his mind too. Then maybe I could help more with the creative blocks and move the film along. (Doyle, 1997, para. 83)

232 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

A similar sentiment can be found in the entry “The Sun Never Sets on a WKW Day,” in which Doyle recounts his lack of sleep after long hours of trying to visually capture the idea of “the end of the world,” a key scene in Happy Together, at Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost lighthouse in South America (Doyle, 1997, para. 90). This shortened acronymic version of the director’s name has also been adopted by critics to refer to Wong as an established auteur entering a more commercial/celebrity arena, as well as to observe his fan following. An article published in the New York Times about the Cannes screening of My Blueberry Nights says that “WKW, as he is known, is, in a way, a one-man cult: he is not merely praised, but adored for films that seem to contain secrets and strains of melancholy romance” (Dupont, 2007, para 6). The following year, the online magazine Slate published a review of My Blueberry Nights under the title “WTF, WKW? How Wong Kar-wai Lost His Way” (Hendrix, 2008). As Wong’s entry into Hollywood after winning the Best Director award at Cannes, this new film and its associated products (i.e. the exclusive T-shirts made by Opening Ceremony mentioned in Chapter 2) marked a point where auteurism collided with auteur collectibles, suggesting for Slate that commerce had begun to problematically dominate art. It was also during this time that products associated with Wong adopted the trademark “WKW” to create an official brand. Included as part of the soundtrack CD for My Blueberry Nights are liner notes titled “A Short Note from WKW” (Wong, 2007). More distinctively, the signature “WKW” was printed on the cover of the branded notebook by Moleskine, a collaboration to celebrate Jet Tone’s 25th anniversary. The same occasion also saw the release of “WKW: Jet Tone 25th Anniversary 10 Movie Soundtracks” (Hmv. co.jp, n.d.). Most recently, WKW is the title of the book by John Powers (2016b) mentioned earlier in this chapter, which reveals the story of Wong’s personal life. When reflecting on the function of a trademark to create a paratextual life-cycle for an auteur brand,1 WKW is catchy for international audiences and can incorporate the various creative outputs from Wong’s movies, public persona, commercial projects, and ancillary products. It also has the potential to bracket off official merchandising from non-official materials, where full or partial references to the director’s name continue to circulate. Expanding from the official branding and collaborations, the rest of this chapter explores the way a generation of young urban filmmakers, artists, and cinephiles playfully create their own chains of attraction to Wong Kar-wai and the star-auteur culture. 1

For more on branding and the life cycle of a film, see Bakker, 2001.

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

233

Playful Masquerade as Creative and Critical Participation in StarAuteur Culture Star images and industrial collaborations are not only sites on which ideologies are expressed; they are also sites of audience identification (Negra, 2001, in Holmes & Redmond, 2012, p. 165). The analysis in this section focuses on fans’ playful engagements with Wong’s auteur-star persona which extend the director’s iconic sunglasses and public portraits into fans’ own personal self-expressions. Amongst the many tribute videos and university projects drawing on Wong’s aesthetic traits, Stealing Wong Kar-wai’s Sunglasses (Bayram, 2012) stands out; it illustrates one fan’s engagement with Wong as a star-auteur known for his trademark glasses. Although the short film was created for a specific purpose, as a “video essay for Dodge College of Film at Chapman University (Film Production),” its construction reveals how this cinephile engages with the object of the sunglasses as a metaphor for Wong’s visionary filmmaking. Shot in film noir style, it presents a fictional story about the disappearance of Wong’s sunglasses. A jazz soundtrack by the band Bohren & der Club and plentiful cigarette smoke are employed to create a recognizable mood associated with Wong’s films and star persona. The short film begins with a male voice-over recalling “the incident” mid-conversation, saying that “she had a ticket.” A black-and-white flashback draws the audience into the story of a mysterious female agent who steals Wong’s sunglasses at gunpoint on the night of a Wong Kar-wai’s interview/ seminar (made clear through an event poster on the wall). The film then cuts to an office with dimly lit lighting with a detective reading a newspaper with the headline “DIRECTOR LOST HIS VISION – Wong Kar-wai’s famous sunglasses are stolen.” The detective remarks that it would be cheaper “to buy a new” pair than to track down the robber, and it’s explained that the exact sunglasses must be retrieved as they are important for Wong’s “vision.” The photograph of a female suspect is provided, and our detective figure lights a cigarette before agreeing that catching the thief will enable him to find out “why she did it in the first place.” The following sequences are told through the detective’s viewpoint and voice-over as he sneaks into the femme fatale’s apartment. It’s full of photographs on the wall; film references, poems, and drawings. This break-in resembles sequences in Chungking Express as the character played by Faye Wong lets herself into the room of the cop she fancies. Eventually, the detective finds the female thief outside, where she’s donning high heels and a trench coat reminiscent of another character (Brigitte Lin) in Chungking Express. As the detective catches up with her, she takes off the sunglasses

234 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

and drops them behind her. The detective lets her walk away, resonating with the ending of the short film The Follow, which Wong had directed for BMW (and which I discussed earlier). Replaying a shot of the boarding pass that the female character has from Istanbul to Orange County, the name on the ticket is revealed to be Ecegül Bayram, the filmmaker herself. Aligning the person stealing Wong’s sunglasses in the film with the young filmmaker who has appropriated an object associated with a star-auteur, the short film can be seen as a meta reflection on auteur-fan relations. Shared via YouTube, the video is accompanied by the description of the task in which the filmmaker had to: Create a self-introductory video essay no more than two minutes in length. Your video should visually highlight something about yourself, your personality, your interests, etc. that is not related to film. The only rule is that you may NOT appear in the video in any way (including any photographs of yourself), so be creative. We are primarily looking for your strengths at conveying a story visually and for evidence of your creativity rather than your technical abilities.2

Within this context, Wong’s public persona and his films are creatively framed as objects of fan fascination, allowing another trainee filmmaker to borrow from them in order to perform as a filmmaker herself. Outside the medium of short film, Wong’s persona has also been employed to create a series of memes that celebrate and mildly problematize his authorial status. Published via Tumblr (Wkwmemes, 2018) and subsequently shared via other social media platforms, including Pinterest (Flores, n.d.), these memes were constructed by using the director’s portrait looking directly at the camera with his sunglasses on, with short captions in capital letters added to the top and bottom of the image. Each image along with the top and bottom text creates a dialogue about Wong Kar-wai whereby the filmmaker is made to provide a self-referential humorous deadpan response. The design of these memes correlate with the existing meme template that Limor Shifman called “stock character macro” (Shifman, 2014, p. 348). This type of meme tends to use the text to bring out the stereotypical 2 The quoted text can be found accompanying the video posted by the filmmaker on YouTube. At the time of the preparation of this book, the video is no longer available for public viewing. However, the message can still be found accompanying other videos suggesting that it is a brief assignment for applicants to the Film Production undergraduate programme in the Dodge College of Film and Media Arts at Chapman University in Orange, California.

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

235

view towards particular marginalized groups such as “sheltering suburban mom” and “high expectations Asian father” (2014, p. 348). By choosing this template, the meme creator automatically connects with those who are familiar with the popular cultural codes or the “hypersignification” (Shifman, 2014, p. 343) of highlighting well-known public discourses about Wong Kar-wai as an auteur. The majority of the memes reveal already well-known stories amongst film fans, particularly those that highlight Wong’s non-conformist mode of filmmaking. The pre-production stories surrounding Wong’s films can be found in memes such as “A SCRIPT” (top) “HA. HA” (bottom), and “PLOT” (top) “WHAT PLOT?” (bottom). A set of recurring memes further emphasizes the lengthy process that it took for Wong to make and release some of his films, such as “FIRST FILM IN CANNES HISTORY” (top), “TO ARRIVE LATE” (bottom) posted in 2012; “NOTHING WRONG WITH FIRST TAKE” (top), “RESHOOTS IT 39 TIMES ANYWAY” (bottom); “IN PRODUCTION” (top), “FOREVER” (bottom) and “GIVES YOU MOVIE TEASER” (top), “DELAYS SAID MOVIE ANOTHER YEAR. AGAIN” (bottom). By adding the image of Wong Kar-wai with these texts, the memes function as a mode of expressing affective relations with the director by those who are familiar with the paratextual background about his filmmaking practices. At the same time, by highlighting embarrassing facts such as being late or taking a long time to complete a project, these memes also somewhat highlight and critique the privilege and control that the “auteur” filmmaker had over others involved in the film production and film exhibition contexts. By perpetuating these behind-the-scene stories, the memes also highlight Wong’s star status above others. Fans’ fascination with the non-normative/ambiguous characteristics of the director here resonates with David McGowan’s discussion of the memes of Nicolas Cage in which the elements of “excess” of the star, particularly those deemed ridiculous, were being selected for the memes and other types of online engagements (2016, p. 217). When considering the consistent choice of Wong’s image for the memes, the elements of artistic self-indulgence during his filmmaking extends the cool persona of the director wearing the iconic dark sunglasses to a cultish association. Similar to star gossip, the captions revealing “transgressions of […] norms of behavior” (Marshall, 2014, p. 105) in these memes create the distinction that Wong is a cult director whose filmmaking breaks with standard practices of commercial filmmaking. Despite these transgressions that make the director stand out, justification for Wong’s mode of filmmaking is provided through playful memes that emphasize his artistry, such as “GOT FIRED BEFORE AS A SCRIPTWRITER” (top) “IT ALL MAKES

236 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

SENSE NOW” (bottom) or “PRODUCER LOST MILLIONS” (top) “WON BEST DIRECTOR” (bottom). In a similar vein as a celebrity meme (see Nielsen & Nititham, 2022), these commentaries engage with existing knowledge about the auteur/celebrity that further highlights his unique asset as part of the wider process of “commodification and objectification” of such celebrity (Nielsen & Nititham, 2022, p. 159). While the above memes focus on Wong’s unique working style, one which has led to notable movies and fan admiration, there are also memes that question the difficulties that his kind of filmmaking might have caused. This type of meme reveals the possible transformative nature of memes in highlighting both the celebratory as well as contradictory aspects of the auteur/star (on this point, see also Palmer & Warren, 2019, p. 138). This aspect is elaborated through a set of memes, including “YEAH, HE’S THE LEAD OF MY MOVIE” (top), “I LIED” (bottom) or “SHOOTS WKW FILM FOR ONE WHOLE YEAR” (top) “GETS 6 MINUTE SCREENTIME” (bottom). In the latter meme, the photo of Wong Kar-wai is replaced with the South Korean actress Song Hye-kyo who signed with Wong Kar-wai’s studio and performed in The Grandmaster. The meme therefore touches on an under discussed subject of star labour and visibility that may have been affected by the decision-making of the director. These playful captions and other forms of participatory culture (such as the #MeToo movement explored in the previous chapter) open up spaces to consider the power relations between auteur and actress, highlighting the potential of fan works within today’s participatory culture to shed light on less favourable stories of film authorship and stardom. The active role of fans in negotiating the power relations for the stars could also be found in the recent case at the time of writing on Ana de Armas fans who filed a lawsuit against a film studio for featuring the star in the trailers but excluding her from the movie (Maddaus, 2022). Viewed through these memetic examples, paratextual formats iterated by fans have contributed to meta reflections on the persona underpinning Wong’s status as a star-auteur, as well as highlighting the contradictory nature of a celebrity figure at the same time.

A Generational Sense of Collective Selves: Re-enactments and Embodiments This last section draws attention to works illuminating the relationship between auteur-stardom and fan productivity. The idea of Wong here is not limited to the realm of his public persona but is expanded to a diverse

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

237

range of imagined figures created in the dialogic process of consumption of Wong’s films by young urban filmmakers in different parts of the world. My first example constructs Wong as a master/teacher of love. Made four years after the release of In the Mood for Love, Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me about Love (2004) captures the sentiment of Wong’s cinematic universe by depicting self-isolated characters living in an Australian city and searching for love despite limited human contact, substituting intimacy for fetishized everyday objects. This film is readable as “pastiche” (Dyer, 2007, p. 8), having been made in relation to a previous work in order to practice and refine filmmaking skills, but it can also reveal the geographical and emotional landscapes of fandom. The short film begins with an intertitle on a red background, its white font displaying the director’s name, Alice Dallow. The first sequence is of a woman (played by Megan Drury) eating noodles on her own. She wears a green top with a red print; its style brings to mind a Chinese wrap-over blouse. The film then cuts to a night-time scene of cars in the city, one of which is a taxi with two people intimately kissing, captured from various angles, including from the front of the car, a close-up on their faces, and a reflection in the rear-view mirror. For fans of Wong’s films, the taxi alludes to In the Mood for Love and Happy Together as a site where the idea of longing is highlighted. It is a potentially intimate space, yet the characters in Wong’s films suppress their physical intimacy. In contrast, this short fan film takes a different approach by immediately highlighting physical contact. The music track is upbeat, with sounds of the bustling street shifting into a melancholic voice-over that begins: “You will fall in love only once. Obstacles will prevail. The rest of your life is spent recovering. Anything that distracts you from the pain of your loss is good. Some people are more successful in this regard than others” (Dallow, 2004). The film’s narrative is subsequently told through this female voice-over, as a woman lists all the ways to cope with breaking up. The taxi passes through a tunnel (also resonating with the end of Fallen Angels) before we see the same couple in front of the glass window of a Vietnamese noodle shop where the first woman in the green top is eating. She then looks up, and a close-up reveals her sense of disconnection, similar to that of Michelle Reis eating and smoking in Fallen Angels. The male character spots this woman (who turns out to be his ex-lover) and ignores her as he walks into the restaurant with his new companion from the taxi. This opening sequence establishes the storyline of a woman going through a painful break-up with a man who has seemingly moved on, and who is in fact already dating another woman.

238 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

In the next sequence, we see the female ex singing karaoke sadly and visiting a launderette/video store. The film then introduces another character, a young male store clerk who steals the woman’s green blouse from the washing machine. The voice-over narrates: “Eroticizing objects will be the pinnacle of your sexual fulfilment. Desire is kept eternally alive by the impossibility of contact.”3 The launderette worker is seen folding and pressing the blouse next to his cheek, no conversation having happened between him and the female customer. The film then follows another male character (who previously had appeared at the noodle shop) choosing an apple at the supermarket. He works at a bookstore next to the grocery and is followed by a woman who works in the fruit section. A flashback shows that she had kissed some of the fruit prior to his visit, and is happy to spot him eating an apple that she’d kissed. This same male character is then shown sitting at home replaying a video of his ex-girlfriend, who is none other than the woman from the taxi earlier. Fans of Wong Kar-wai would recall a similarly intertwined story from Chungking Express, as well as the use of a video recorder to capture and replay memories of a loved one from Fallen Angels. The short film tells the further story of the taxi couple who spend an unfulfilled night together, before ending with all its main characters roaming on their own through the same shopping mall. A glimpse of a happy ending can be found when a bookshop owner encounters the broken-hearted lady from the story’s beginning. Throughout this 11-minute short film, Wong’s cinematic output is revisited in terms of storylines and visual elements. Yet the narrator, characters, locations, and ending are altered through new perspectives; this is not simply a replay of auteurist tropes. It is a story of urban loneliness, but played by non-Asian characters with hints of Chinese/pan-Asian culture. Alice Dallow, the filmmaker, positioned herself as a Wong Kar-wai fan through paratexts, including a slightly altered version of the film’s script which was published in the online film journal Senses of Cinema as part of a tribute to Wong (Dallow, 2001). The fascination with his works, evidenced in Dallow’s creation, also generated further paratexts from other fans, including two separate poems called “Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me about Love, Part 2” 3 The additional voiceover for the short film reads: “The most potent way to exist is to occupy someone else’s imagination. Hook up with someone. Live with them. Sleep with them. Tag along. Don’t be fooled. You are only a transitory distraction. Ask for commitment. Declare your love. Watch the set up evaporate. Technology will only heighten your sense of desolation making you more keenly aware that no one is trying to call. Some coincidences are deliberate, others just happended.” (Dallow, 2004).

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

239

(Chau, 2012) and “Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me about Love, Part 3” (Chau, 2015), both published in Australian poetry journals. Apart from the above series of paratexts, Wong’s star-auteur status continues to resonate with Australian-based fans. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of In the Mood for Love during the Covid-19 lockdown in 2020, a group of artists in Australia were commissioned by the Sydney Opera House to perform a livestreamed art piece combining theatre, music, and f ilm re-enactment while mixing sentiments from Wong’s f ilms with a sense of lockdown loneliness that had newly “forced us to reconcile our beloved relationships and self-identities” (Sydney Opera House, 2020, para. 2). In the same period, a group of creatives, including Ken Chau, along with producers, performers, and animators in Australia, also announced their collaboration to create “a collection of poetry celebrating Asian Australian culture, inspired by the work of Wong Kar-wai” and titled “Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me about Love and Other Things” (Canditama, 2020). These multiple tributes in Australian creative circles further reveal how ideas and images of WKW circulate in relation to diasporic Asian identities, along with demonstrating a sense of fan collectivity that goes well beyond the context of film markets and festival commissioning. By mashing up the layers of cinematic, musical, and dance ritual in Wong’s films with other extra-textual materials, the livestreamed project helped to create a broader cultural appeal for Wong’s film fans in the transmedia era. As mentioned, this kind of fan homage could be seen through Richard Dyer’s broader conceptualization of the term “pastiche.” Moving away from Jameson’s notable discussion of the term as “a blank parody” (Dyer, 2007, p. 137) or an act of imitation/a copy that reflects postmodern conditions of repetition without substance, “pastiche” in Dyer’s sense of the term pays attention to “both the historically specific aesthetic forms within which it works and the prevalent perception of what it is pastiching” (2007, p. 131). These fan works are surely pastiches in the way that they imitate, borrow from, and combine Wong’s aesthetics to create unique works that also reveal a history of feeling. While this kind of tribute does not contribute to cultural critique as parody would, it nevertheless reveals the embodied, affective, and dialogic dimensions of fan performers and filmmakers in relation to film authorship that continue to foster the growth of auteur culture over time. My next example is a tribute explicitly addressing Wong Kar-wai as a source of inspiration while also adding a self-reflective account on the process of becoming a fan of the director. A Short Film about Wong Kar Wai (2015) by Serdar Önal and Ömer Çapoğlu presents a journey to Wong Kar-wai fandom that begins with the recommendation to buy and watch

240 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Wong’s films so as to overcome a break-up. The film depicts a man who argues with his girlfriend in a restaurant, then falling into a melancholic state that leads to his encounter with a DVD seller on a bridge in the city who recommends that he purchase a Wong Kar-wai movie to watch. The short film combines stills and audiovisual excerpts from Wong’s movies with the protagonist’s responses while watching them in his apartment. Enchanted by these films, the lovelorn man starts decorating one of his apartment walls with red ornamental wallpaper. As Wong’s films preoccupy our protagonist, the world in Wong’s movies and the character’s daily life begin to merge. One important scene features the main character going to a deserted area by the sea, away from the city. He selects a shelter by the water, built with bricks, to hold his secrets. A nearby teenager subsequently hunts for something of value that might be hidden in there, but nothing tangible can be found. The process of using a substitute location for a re-enactment of Wong’s In the Mood for Love highlights embodied fan engagement that overcomes any need for the real film location. Beyond its affective engagement with filmic text, the short film presents a self-reflective expression of being a Wong Kar-wai fan by depicting the bond that develops between the DVD seller and his customer/the protagonist. This “meta” level of self-reflection appears through the role of the protagonist whose life is transformed into that of a DVD seller after the original seller goes travelling abroad. As time passes, this fan/seller is eventually seen falling in love with a Chinese woman, with his attachment to Wong’s films having been one step along his path to finding new happiness. From the point of view of new filmmakers working at the periphery of global film culture, these participations in star-auteur-fan relations reveal the belonging and identity of young filmmakers, whose works begin through the consumption of valued films and the creation of home-made pastiche in their own geographical locations. In these video works, fans perform various roles, from the aspiring filmmaker who wants to be like Wong Kar-wai, through to those fans who buy, watch, and sell Wong’s films, and even the evangelist who introduces Wong Kar-wai to others. Star-auteur affective engagements and different forms of embodiment create pastiches of works, forming collective selves that foster generational authorship across different geographies. As A Short Film about Wong Kar-wai has been distributed online with subtitles in different languages and screened at different short film festivals (i.e. the Skepto International Film Festival in Cagliari, Italy, and the Crossroads International Short Film Festival in Istanbul, Turkey) (see OmerCapoglu, 2015), Wong’s auteur status and global reach to audiences in different geographies and networks are further expanded. At the same time,

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

241

fans-turned-filmmakers start to gain visibility in the global film market and transmedia domains. The last set of fan embodiments drawing on an imagined figure of Wong Kar-wai that I want to consider use the star-auteur figure within civic participation. Set up as a Facebook page in 2015, whysowong/กระทำ�ความห ว่ อง (kratum-kwam-wong) has become a form of aesthetic embodiment and fannish affection as well as a space for sociopolitical expression in Thailand. The literal translation of “kratum-kwam-wong,” the page name in Thai, means “doing/being Wong.” The founders adopted quotes and aesthetics found in Wong’s movies and ancillary materials (sepia photographs, night-time saturated-colour shots, portraits of people or objects expressing a mood of urban loneliness) as a way to express their personal feelings after their respective break-ups. Collectively, the practice of mixing photographs with aesthetics from Wong’s films and their own captions found extended audiences who wish to share their own stories and states of alienation in Bangkok, particularly as Thailand’s political circumstances became increasingly repressive under the military-led government following the coup, and prior to the general election in 2018. Participants and page owners later adopted Wong’s aesthetics and the hashtag “kratum-kwam-wong” in Thai to express a wide range of depressing sociopolitical situations. Images of former political f igures and activists, especially those photographed (or digitally altered) in sepia tones and saturated colours, were shared along with added captions that offered critical reflections. One of the viral photos associated with the “kratum-kwam-wong” hashtag was shared in 2016 as the leader of Hong Kong’s Umbrella Movement Joshua Wong was invited to give a talk at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok to mark the 40th anniversary of the student uprising in 1976. As Thai immigration detained and deported Joshua Wong, a series of memes were created to respond to this situation. Apart from a meme that played with the idea of police mixing up Wong with the Thai student activist who organized the talk, another meme that circulated online showed Wong Kar-wai and Joshua Wong next to each other. Its caption linked the name of Wong Kar-wai with the phrase “Wong Klab Wai” in Thai, meaning “[Joshua] Wong has to dash back,” alluding to events at the Thai airport. Following this play on words, on the day of the talk when Joshua Wong was absent, a number of students stood up in the conference room with their umbrellas to announce their concerns over freedom of expression. A statement posted by the New Democracy Movement page referred to Thailand as a “Wong-esque country” where “all is sad, lonely, and alienated”

242 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

and “the future cannot be seen, and peaceful expression is deemed a threat to national security” (my translation). This inability to openly say how one feels was highlighted as a condition that made the country seems like a Wong Kar-wai universe (New Democracy Movement – NDM, 2016). The case of “kratum-kwam-wong” reveals aspects of political solidarity and emotional empathy along with a sense of local humour, all of which were employed to express political sentiments, similar to the kind of sociopolitical subtext found in readings of Wong’s films (see Abbas, 1997). Through the spread of “kratum-kwam-wong” as a hashtag across different social media platforms in Thailand, fans’ interpretative aesthetics related to Wong Kar-wai were expanded into other kinds of social critique, including of the mental health situation in urban society (see Kongkalai, 2017). Film authorship in this case is a fragmented body of discourse moving well beyond the physical appearance/embodiment of the filmmaker or his works and into traces and sentiments that reveal generational politics and possible new authorial self-expressions. David P. Marshall has argued that “central to the construction of the popular music star of the past 40 years is the capacity for its sign to express the difference and significance of youth” (2014, p. 289). While music stars connect with audiences through lyrics and vocals creating a symbiotic connection, a generation of Wong’s fans have connected with his film/ brand aesthetics in order to negotiate with various situations ranging from emotional heartbreak through to a sense of urban alienation and even political repression. Facilitated by accessible digital technology/skills and modes of participatory circulation, these forms of star-auteur and audience embodiment/re-enactment enable young creative practitioners/artists/ filmmakers to continue fostering Wong’s auteur-stardom.

Conclusion This chapter concludes the second part of the book by exploring a star/ celebrity auteur whose brand has grown and expanded across various cultural domains, comprising the formation of a recognizable persona, the constructed characteristics of a lifestyle brand shaped by chains of attraction with high-end/luxury consumer brands, and the development of a trademark to symbolize the director’s collectible items. Drawing on the persona of the long-established East Asian auteur, Wong Kar-wai, the chapter examined how early connections were made between Wong and the idea of a cool, hip auteur associated with sunglasses and a “jazz” aura. Discussing discourses

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

243

of “a modern American cool” that shaped the reputation of Nicolas Ray, Will Scheibel draws attention to “an air of disengagement, of nonchalance” (2017, p. 145) which is deemed positive as it projects an authoritative sense of self in relation to social changes, including commercialization and political repression. While “cool” is perceived as a protective mask or exterior performativity, the notion of hip (which grew out of the 1920s Jazz Age) has been used to discuss interior sentiment, described as “smart, urban, literate and disaffected, colonizing marginal neighborhoods and using popular culture to accomplish what they couldn’t through other means” (Leland, cited in Scheibel, 2017, p. 145). In the context of today’s transmedia auteur culture and self-reflexive authorship in relation to Wong Kar-wai, the components of cool and hip have been extended to creative, commercial, and civic domains. Incorporated into the realm of luxury products, the cool mask/hip persona combined with aesthetics of unrequited romance and controlled emotion associated with Wong’s f ilms have added an aura of authenticity and creative intertextuality to an array of high-end branded products. Such collaborations also fit well with the creation of Wong’s own trademark for collectible items associated with his body of work. This “subcultural-coolturned-cosmopolitan-hip” branding has since contributed to the reputation of the director as a star/celebrity auteur across different audience groups and taste cultures. Apart from the expansion of film auteurism into commercial branding and celebrity culture, this kind of cool mask/hip sentiment has also encouraged collective participation by critics and fans. Memorialized and transformed through different formats, including memes, short films, and theatre/livestream performances, such collective selves reveal a generational sentiment amongst young urban residents in different parts of the world who can express their sense of alienation and awareness of sociopolitical circumstances through projected figures of Wong. Along with the previous case studies in this part of the book, this chapter has further highlighted how authorship as a transnational concept in the last two decades has been deeply engaged with (trans)mediated personae, performances, and various participatory forms of embodiment in the public domain. Drawing on these concepts, the second part of the book has examined the senses of self of individual filmmakers as public figures, and the self-reflections of film fans, which reveal shared sentiments between characters, filmmakers, and themselves. In these kinds of performative, textual and virtual interactions, authorship thrives anew through transmediality and participatory cultures.

244 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Works Cited Abbas, A. (1997). Hong Kong: Culture and the politics of disappearance. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Anabelanduaga. (2008, October 22). Notorious Laetitia Casta. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeOJYQrBi8Y&ab_channel=anabelanduaga Atkinson, C. (2012, January 10). A look back at BMW’s The Hire, branded content in the dark days of online video. Tubular. https://tubularinsights.com/ bmw-the-hire/ Bakker, G. (2001). Stars and stories: How films became branded products. Enterprise & Society, 2(3), 461–503. Bayram, E. (2012). Stealing Wong Kar-wai’s sunglasses – Chapman University video essay, Fall 2013. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continu e=4&v=grhlzAAWAcE&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=Eceg%C3%BClBayram Bettinson, G. (2015). The sensuous cinema of Wong Kar-wai: Film poetics and the aesthetic of disturbance. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Brooks, X. (2008, May 20). How Wong Kar-wai’s shades kept me in the dark. The Guardian. http://www.theguardian.com/film/2008/may/20/cannesfilmfestival. festivals5 Canditama. (2020, September  17). Things Wong Kar-wai taught me about love and other things. [Video]. YouTube. https://w w w.youtube.com/ watch?v=d4_wrVuwkac&ab_channel=canditama Chau, K. (2012, February 1). Things Wong Kar-wai taught me about love, part 2. Cordite Poetry Review, 47. http://cordite.org.au/poetry/no-theme/ things-wong-kar-wai-taught-me-about-love-part-2/ Chau, K. (2015). Things Wong Kar-wai taught me about love, part 3. Australian Poetry Journal, 5(2). http://apj.australianpoetry.org/issues/apj-5-2/ poem-Things-Wong-Kar-Wai-Taught-Me-About-Love-by-Ken-Chau/ Chen, C.-T. (2016). Wong works in advertising. In M. Nochimson (Ed.), Companion to Wong Kar-wai (pp. 569–585). Chichester: Wiley Blackwell. Church Gibson, P. (2012). Fashion and celebrity culture. Oxford: Bloomsbury Publishing. Ciecko, A. (2014). Asano Tadanobu and transnational stardom: The paradoxical polysemy of cool. In W.-F. Leung & A. Willis (Eds.), East Asian film stars (pp. 128–142). Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Dallow, A. (2001, April). Love – Things Wong Kar-wai taught me about love. In F. A. Villella (Comp.), The cinema of Wong Kar-wai – A “writing game.” Senses of Cinema, 13. https://www.sensesofcinema.com/2001/wong-kar-wai/wong-symposium/ Doyle, C. (1997). Don’t try for me Argentina. http://www.tonyleung.info/goodies/ chris.shtml

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

245

Dupont, J. (2007, May 24). Cannes: Wong Kar-wai: Exploring displaced people and foreign lands. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/24/ arts/24iht-cannes25.1.5850888.html Dyer, R. (1979). Stars. London: BFI Publishing. Dyer, R. (2007). Pastiche. London and New York: Routledge. Flores, P. (n.d.). Saved from wkwmemes.tumblr.com. Wong Kar Wai Memes. [Photograph]. [Pinterest post]. Pinterest. https://www.pinterest.com/ pin/502292164665260473/ Gabbard, K. (1996). Jammin’ at the margins: Jazz and the American cinema. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Gill-Brown, V. (2018). Cool shades: The history and meaning of sunglasses. London: Bloomsbury. Hartman, D. (2008, April 3). Wong Kar-wai apparently does take off his sunglasses sometimes. Vulture. https://www.vulture.com/2008/04/wong_karwai_apparently_does_ta.html Hendrix, G. (2008, April 3). WTF, WKW? How Wong Kar-wai lost his way. Slate. https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2008/04/how-wong-kar-wai-lost-his-way.html Hmv.co.jp (n.d.). WKW: Jettone 25 th anniversary 10 movie soundtracks. [Album]. https://www.hmv.co.jp/artist_Soundtrack_000000000000041/ item_WKW-Jettone-25th-Anniversary-10-Movie-Soundtracks_9081863 Holmes, S., & Redmond, S. (Eds.). (2012). Framing celebrity: New directions in celebrity culture. Hoboken: Taylor and Francis. Jeffrey. (2013, May 7). Wong Kar-wai’s eyes see rare daylight. [Online forum post]. Wongkarwai.net. http://www.wongkarwai.net/wong-kar-wais-eyes-see-raredaylight/ Jeffrey. (2015, January 6). “The Grandmaster 3D” press conference round-up. [Online forum post]. Wongkarwai.net. http://www.wongkarwai.net/the-grandmaster-3dpress-conference-round-up/ Kapsis, R. E. (1992). Hitchcock: The making of a reputation. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. King, B. (2003). Embodying an elastic self: The parametrics of contemporary stardom. In T. Austin & M. Barker (Eds.), Contemporary Hollywood stardom (pp. 45–61). London: Oxford University Press. King, B. (2015). Taking fame to market: On the pre-history and post-history of Hollywood stardom. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Kokkissimo. (2010, October 14). Behind the scene – Dior – Midnight Poison. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ChXDkt0oKE&ab_ channel=Kokkissimo Kongkalai, W. (2017). ทำ�ไมเราถึ ง ‘หว่อง’ กันนักนะ (1): ทำ�ความเข้าใจกับความโดดเดี่ ยวใน โลกสมัยใหม่ . The 101 World. https://www.the101.world/isolation-in-new-world-1/

246 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Krueger, A. (2019, February 22). Where is Carine Roitfeld now? Making perfume. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/22/style/carine-roitfeldperfume.html Lee, A. (2014, December 4). Wong Kar-wai: Fighting is like kissing. Dazed. https:// www.dazeddigital.com/artsandculture/article/22783/1/wong-kar-wai-fightingis-like-kissing Leung, W. F., & Willis, A. (Eds.). (2014). East Asian film stars. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Lifestyle Beautiful. (2019, March 27). Alexandra Roos: How to choose and apply selective fragrances correctly. https://beautifulmag-lifestyle.com/en/beautifulstyle/perfume/alexandra-roos-how-to-choose-and-apply-selective-fragrancescorrectly/ Maddaus, G. (2022, December 21). Ana de Armas fans’ lawsuit puts studios at risk over deceptive trailers. Variety. https://variety.com/2022/film/news/ana-dearmas-yesterday-false-advertising-1235467419/?fbclid= IwAR1tfEXkoDGSZTP2oHoZI7V8o46IHXiTQLFCPOAFKwh4slQKCUNeh2r2c-M Marshall, P. D. (2014). Celebrity and power: Fame in contemporary culture. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Mash, C. (2014, July 21). The peerless style of Chinese director Wong Kar-wai. Esquire. https://www.esquire.com/style/mens-fashion/a29410/wong-kar-wai-style-072114/ McGowan, D. (2016). Nicolas Cage – Good or bad? Stardom, performance, and memes in the age of the internet. Celebrity Studies, 8(2), 209–227. Meeuf, R., & Raphael, R. (2016). Introduction. In R. Meeuf & R. Raphael (Eds.), Transnational stardom: International celebrity in film and popular culture (pp. 1–16). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. MegaJaczek. (2011). Eva Green Dior Midnight Poison parfum film. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8buIHmzDVlE&ab_ channel=MegaJaczek Molitorisz, S. (2005, May 7). Master of light and shades. Sydney Morning Herald. https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/movies/master-of-light-and-shades20050507-gdl9rr.html New Democracy Movement – NDM. (2016). [Facebook Post]. Facebook. https:// www.facebook.com/newdemocracymovement/photos/a.958539464196431.10 73741828.958469920870052/1239581286092246/?type=3&theater Nielsen, D., & Nititham, D. S. (2022). Celebrity memes, audioshop, and participatory fan culture: A case study on Keanu Reeves memes. Celebrity Studies, 13(2), 159–170. OmerCapoglu. (2015). A short film about Wong Kar Wai – Trailer. [Video]. Vimeo. https://vimeo.com/119999017. Palmer, D., & Warren, K. (2019). Scarlett Johansson falling down: Memes, photography and celebrity personas. In J. Loreck et al. (Eds.), Screening Scarlett Johansson (pp. 121–144). Cham: Palgrave Macmillan.

Celebrit y Authorship and Multiple Mediated Bodies

247

Powers, J. (2016a, April 21). How to write a book with Wong Kar Wai. Vogue. https:// www.vogue.com/article/wong-kar-wai-book Powers, J. (2016b). WKW: The cinema of Wong Kar Wai. New York: Rizzoli. Press.bmwgroup.com. (2001, May 13). Wong Kar-wai’s “The Follow” premieres at Cannes. BMW Group. https://www.press.bmwgroup.com/asia/article/detail/ T0047806EN/wong-kar-wai-s-the-follow-premieres-at-cannes?language=en Promkhuntong, W. (2014). Wong Kar-wai: “Cultural hybrid,” celebrity endorsement and star-auteur branding. Journal of Celebrity Studies, 5(3), 348–353. Rojek, C. (2001). Celebrity. London: Reaktion Books. Romney, J. (2000, October 23). Mood music. The Guardian. http://www.theguardian. com/culture/2000/oct/23/artsfeatures Scheibel, W. (2017). American stranger: Modernisms, Hollywood, and the cinema of Nicholas Ray. Albany: State University of New York Press. Seligmann, N. (2017). “If I won’t be myself, who will?” The making of a star persona in Alfred Hitchcock Presents and The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. In W. Schwanebeck (Ed.), Reassessing the Hitchcock touch: Industry, collaboration, and filmmaking (pp. 113–135). Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Shifman, L. (2014). The cultural logic of photo-based meme genres. Journal of Visual Culture, 13(3), 340–358. Shingler, M. (2012). Star studies: A critical guide. London: British Film Institute. Short, S. (2000). And the winner is … Wong Kar-wai’s film In the Mood for Love. Time Asia. http://edition.cnn.com/ASIANOW/time/features/interviews/int. wongkarwai05224000.html Sydney Opera House. (2020). In the mood – A love letter to Wong Kar-wai & Hong Kong. https://www.sydneyoperahouse.com/digital/season/music/in-the-moodlove-letter-to-wong-kar-wai-hong-kong.html Teo, S. (2005). Wong Kar-wai. London: BFI Publishing. Thoret, J.-B. (2013 [2000]). Jazz and cinema: An interview with Gilles Mouëllic. Translated by A. Martin. Screening the Past. http://www.screeningthepast. com/2013/06/jazz-and-cinema-an-interview-with-gilles-mouellic/ Timberg, S. (2005, July 24). Hong Kong’s poet of regret. Los Angeles Times. https:// www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2005-jul-24-ca-wong24-story.html Walker, R. (2006, May 22). The story of “Blue.” [Blog post]. Wordpress. https:// nonotes.wordpress.com/2006/05/22/the-story-of-blue/ Wei, L. (2008, January 9). Man behind the shades. China Daily. http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/cndy/2008-01/09/content_6380016.htm Why Us? (2015, September 8) Wong Kar Waï – Dior – Midnight Poison. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WvSSjhmOmI&ab_channel=WhyUs%3F Wkwmemes. (2018, December 8). Wong Kar Wai memes. [Tumblr post]. Tumblr. https://wkwmemes.tumblr.com/

248 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Wong, K-w. (2007). A short note from WKW. My Blueberry Nights: Music from the motion picture. [CD sound track liner notes]. Studio Canal & Block 2 Music. Yi, D. (2019, March 6). If Wong Kai Wai’s “In the Mood for Love” had a smell, it’d be this. Very Good Light. https://www.verygoodlight.com/2019/03/06/ byredo-rose-noir/ Yu, S. Q. (Ed.). (2018). Revisiting star studies: Cultures, themes and methods. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

Conclusion One of the consistent drives for me to complete this monograph was a desire to engage and update scholarship on the long-standing notion of film authorship in relation to the rise of East Asian filmmakers into global stardom, and to mark how discourses on the subject developed in close relations with transmedia culture in the last two decades. It was this period when I was studying in the UK and the multi-platform distribution that has since emerged that further draw me into the world of transnational East Asian cinema. As mentioned in the introduction chapter, the revival of film authorship in Anglo-European academia in the early 2000s, with attention given to previously under-represented agents and cultural landscapes, coincided with the phenomenon whereby East Asian cinema gained unprecedented recognition in the global film market and related cultural domains. East Asian cinema’s diverse styles, production contexts, and distribution networks also contributed to the emergence of interest in “world cinema” and “transnational cinema,” albeit represented by a relatively small number of filmmakers at the beginning. While there were various anthologies mapping expanded definitions of East Asian cinema and new cinematic area studies in the early 2000s (see, for example, Ciecko, 2006; Hunt & Leung, 2008; Lee V. P. Y., 2011), explorations of the growth of East Asian film authorship as part of a transmedia culture engaging with areas of studies such as film festivals, multi-platform distribution, media fans/ cinephiles, and film stars/celebrities have been far more limited. This book contributes to a lineage of studies of film culture that have paid attention to the various forces (including ideological, commercial, and creative) that sustain and extend the idea of auteur cinema. I began this book by contextualizing its case studies within recent debates on film authorship and the context of transnational East Asian cinema. The introduction located film authorship in the realms of post-auteurism and reflective auteur studies. Presenting a palimpsestuous history of authorship, traced through a series of paratexts operating over time, different chapters then addressed the transnational cultural spaces and marketplaces, aided by digital media, which have produced recurring and expanded discourses

Promkhuntong, W., Film Authorship in Contemporary Transmedia Culture: The Paratextual Lives of Asian Auteurs. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2023 doi 10.5117/9789462987531_con

250 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

in relation to my case study filmmakers and associated parties. In the rest of this conclusion, I will reflect on the dimensions of auteur culture that remain to be further explored, covering more diverse cultural geographies surrounding film and media authorship, as well as allowing established creative agents to be re-examined, under-explored figures to be studied, and new collectives to be recognized.

Auteur Culture in a Time of (Para)textual and Material Productivity At the centre of auteur culture has long been the process of knowledge construction through materials made by academics, critics, and industry agents, all contributing to the recognition of certain creative individuals behind a piece of work. For example, the French New Wave was often discussed in relation to the critics-turned-filmmakers associated with the magazine Cahiers du Cinéma amongst other networks. The transnational rise of East Asian cinema in the last two decades also saw a surge in agents reinforcing this film and transmedia auteur culture, from both the demand and supply sides of the film and media industries. Different parties involved have all played a part in creating and extending narratives about specific East Asian films and filmmakers, ranging across different publications, material objects, places, and platforms. As this book has illustrated, the knowledge production surrounding auteur culture can be found in the long-existing domain of film festivals and their highly mediated networks of contributors. In distribution domains, those who import and distribute films in different countries work to localize and promote selected authorial figures. Prominent domains of paratextual and material production in more recent years have been the groups of fans and cinephiles in different localities that circulate forms of auteurist paratexts. The creation of paratexts extends from film reviews, auteur biographies and industry insights, to blogs, videos, fan films, site-specific works, and collectible items, all of which maintain and expand authorship discourses into kinds of participatory culture. The surge in auteurist paratextual productivity by film fans, global brands, and intergovernmental bodies allows an exploration of the interconnectedness of film authorship with sociocultural and economic forces, media clusters, collaborative workers, and a wide range of co-creative agents. In the increasingly mediated contexts of authorship, paratexts reveal recurring and changing values associated with auteurism. Exploring case studies of East Asian filmmakers and associated agents, geopolitics continues

Conclusion

251

to be one of the major recurring discourses within this auteur culture, particularly in the early parts of filmmakers’ careers. Another recurring discourse shaping the notion of authorship here concerns the value giving to different types of cinema and reading communities associated with specific taste cultures, whether experimental film, cult cinema, genre film, or intermedial art. As the case studies in this book also reveal, ongoing interest in the figures of filmmakers soon moves on to other dimensions, including authorial ethos, diversity of creative agents, fan and cinephile cultures, and ethical consumption. Paratextual materials generated by different fan groups can display the personal expressions and affective dimensions associated with local circumstances that lead to fans revisiting specific filmmakers and their works. Filmmakers who continue to have affective as well as sociopolitical relevance often gain extensive paratexts, being memorialized across different platforms, including sites such as Spotify and TikTok. Meanwhile, filmmakers linked to controversies and scandals tend to be placed under an intense media spotlight, questioning or even denying their authorial status. Back in the early 1990s, for East Asian filmmakers with limited promotional funding, networks of organic paratexts created by critics and institutional supporters were key to reinforcing their media presence and global recognition. More recently, in the 2020s, expanded auteur culture is comprised of extensive content creation across platforms from both industry and audiences. For instance, Parasite became the most tweeted film during the award show on the platform Twitter (Eun-byel, 2020). The period leading up to the film winning at the Oscars pointed to the celebration of the auteur figure Bong Joon-ho, as well as associated agents, including the translator/ filmmaker Sharon Choi and the subtitler Darcy Paquet. Other figures with expanded paratexts include film characters and stars as well as industry successes, such as the business tycoon of CJ Entertainment, one of the South Korean conglomerates pushing forward global transmedia entertainment. The story of social class and economic disparity explored in Parasite also played out in wider political contexts to challenge the American centrist views of the US president at the time. The case was widely reported after Donald Trump made a sneering remark at a Colorado rally that he could not understand why a South Korean movie should win the US top film award, and that the country had “enough problems with South Korea with trade” (Stedman, 2020). As the footage of the speech was made available on Twitter, NEON, the US distributor of the film, responded with a tweet stating that Trump’s confusion is “[u]nderstandable, [as] he can’t read. #Parasite #Best Picture #Bong2020” (Stedman, 2020). The remark also coincided with the

252 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

widely cited speech of the director at the Oscar that celebrated foreign films by encouraging American audiences to “overcome the 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles” to encounter “so many more amazing films” (Chang, 2020). Fan artworks and posters based on Parasite were also created across different platforms (see, for example, Curry, 2020). Resonating with the expanded auteur culture discussed in this book, Parasite quickly gained extended paratexts through fan pilgrimages (Wong, 2020), tourism promotion (VisitSeoul.net, 2019), reports on the living conditions of lower-income citizens in Seoul (Yoon, 2020; BBC, 2022), and a new grant programme to improve housing conditions (Ock, 2020). Studies of the proliferation of paratexts in transmedia culture can reveal various authorial negotiations, cross-industry relations, and multiple histories about auteurs and their fans in the mediated world. In an article on Parasite and its sprawling paratexts, Seung-hoon Jeong (2022) reflects on “the performative self-contradiction” of the global auteur-cinephile relations and of Hollywood in general in proliferating capitalist and hierarchical class ideology while critiquing social inequalities. The writer anticipates that Covid-19 may bring some changes to the “ethical stalemate” of global cinema (2022, pp. 33, 46). When expanding the paratextual life of Parasite beyond those surrounding the f ilm industry itself, we can already see a kind of paratextual/parasitic regeneration of the film for social change. In the context of Thailand, the term “parasite” (“ปรสิ ต”) and the film title in Thai (“ชนชั้นปรสิ ต”) have been used as hashtags on Twitter and Facebook to voice discontent with different institutions, politicians, and public figures under the military-led government. A modified film poster was also used to promote an antimilitary junta student flash mob.1 When locating a film and associated creative agents within the changing geographical and reception contexts, different forms of paratexts can be a rich source of self-reflective studies of film authorship and self-inscription, especially in the era of media-saturated screen industries today.

(Para)texts, Layers of Histories, and Multiple Futures In relation to film authorship, materials which have been produced at different stages in directors’ careers and have continued to circulate in the public domain also allow an exploration of film history in relation to auteur culture. 1 The image has been used as a thumbnail image associated with news of political protests in Thailand by Nikkei Asia (see Pongsudhirak, 2020).

Conclusion

253

The availability and accessibility of these paratexts highlights the archival function of authorial paratexts in sustaining auteur culture. Expanding the study of film auteurs in relation to individual, national, and regional identities via digital archives, the examination of paratextual materials in the media domain encourages analysis of media memorialization and database culture. In this context, all sorts of different paratexts – directors’ interviews, letters, festival catalogues, short films, fan videos, Twitter posts, records of performances, photographs, reviews of products associated with filmmakers and collaborators – can be discussed as they cross paths over time. The temporalities within which these paratexts were produced, watched, and shared reveal versions of the mediated selves of the different agents involved. As noted, the circulation of paratextual materials in the public domain can be considered as a kind of archival process, one which often extends the lifespan of certain works in cultural memory. Importantly, the production and circulation of these materials has a “meta” function associated with the knowledge construction of authorship. The archival implication of cultural materials in relation to knowledge and power was discussed in the theoretical work of Michel Foucault in The Archaeology of Knowledge (1989). This complicates the neutrality of the term “archive” as referring to a historical record. Instead, the concept of the archive is examined as a tool to exercise power through processes of keeping and discarding information which then define what can be said (or made unsayable) about particular histories. Strongly addressing the impossibility of obtaining truth or any point of origin through historical records, the term “archive” in Foucault’s work refers to the hidden discursive systems with “multiple relations” that govern “what can be said” at a particular moment (Foucault, 1989, p. 125). This highlights how any theoretical enquiry on the construction of knowledge must be “relational” and “conditional”2 and embedded within the motif of power. For Foucault, in order to question existing knowledge on a particular subject, one must not assume that there is an eternal truth (in the archive) whether in reference to past myths, records of visionary figures, or an unconscious drive that proffers the source of human knowledge developed in linear succession. Rather, one should seek to break the structure of statements, to look for what may be hidden and uncover new regularities that could have been previously overlooked.3 As the process of collecting information 2 The construction of knowledge is relational in the sense that discourses are connected to one another. It is also conditional in the sense that knowledge is produced and deemed valid based on different circumstances, including geography and class (Jäger & Maier, 2009, p. 34). 3 See Chapter 2, “The Unities of Discourse,” in Foucault (1989).

254 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

relies on available technical methods and human engagements, it inevitably influences the record of the event itself (see Manoff, 2004). After Foucault, exploring paratexts as part of the archive of auteur culture means revisiting past writings on authorship that are laden with the power and politics of geographical relations and taste cultures. Niche distributors such as the Criterion Collection have been seen as an archive of film-asculture through their processes of selecting and excluding certain films beyond the realm of art cinema (Kendrick, 2001). At the same time, new auteurist narratives have emerged through the “subcultural conservation” of fans (Lothian, 2013). The informal, indirect re-circulation of films through user-generated content can also be considered as a kind of paratextual/ archival process which extends the lifespan of films in the public domain. Importantly, the collection and curation of these materials is likely to have a future function in the knowledge construction of film history. Writing on a self-reflexive engagement of film history and feminist works, Vicki Callahan remarked that focusing simply on conventional writings on film authorship may not be sufficient to address the role of women in film history as they often involve in many “enunciative roles” and “heterogeneous forms” (2010, pp. 127–128). A project such as Rosanna Maule’s (2010) study of women filmmakers in the age of multimedia reproduction through the creation of a virtual archive for women’s cinema is one example of work that directly engages with the process of media culture beyond that of traditional film archive. The project incorporated different forms of paratexts, including short films, clips, self-projections, and interviews, through the process of collection and curation, along with asking the filmmakers and feminist film scholars to engage in dialogues across various platforms. Subsequently, the materials were presented through a virtual archive amongst other outputs (for more, see Maule, 2010). Beyond the mediated lives of elite star-auteurs, an active exploration into the practice of regional f ilm criticism, local curatorial practices, and changing forms of film paratexts can help shape diverse discourses on creative authorship and film history. In the context of filmmaking and creative practices, the increasingly connected media landscapes also lead to new approaches that engage with the archive to challenge a historically singular auteur culture that has placed film collectives and other examples of “minor authorship” (Ma, 2020, p. 22) on the margins. Several transmedial projects employed film quotations and performative remixes to problematize the boundary of film history associated with ownership, authorship, and diverse agencies (see, for example, Thain, 2019; Palis, 2020). Addressing the subject of film authorship and race, Eleni Palis (2020) explores how a generation of black American

255

Conclusion

filmmakers (Cheryl Dunye, Julie Dash, and Spike Lee) adopted the “film quotation” practices made popular by the post-classical Hollywood auteurs during “the library turn” (2020, p. 232) in the 1970s and 1980s and the video turn in the 1990s. Palis examines the way aesthetic practices, including footage reappropriations and re-enactments of film history, create “spaces of agency” (2020, p. 233) that “redress [sic] traditional auteurism’s blind spots” in relation to race and gender (2020, p. 234). The analysis also engages with Jaimie Baron’s (2014) notion of “the archive effect,” whereby the archive of film history is approached as “an experience of reception” instead of the idea of the archive as “an indication of official sanction or storage location” (Palis, 2020, p. 234). In another work, Alanna Thain (2019) explores live performances commissioned by film festivals which use film footage, live scores, and performances to engage with colonial, cinematic, and cultural histories. The article examines Tanya Tagaq’s sonic experimentation and live performance over Robert Flaherty’s Nanook of the North (1922)4 and Guy Maddin, Galen, and Evan Johnson’s remix of footages of San Francisco as a remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958).5 Together, these works highlight the practice of archival remix (which Thain termed “chronic collage”) that questions static notions of ownership, space, and history through corporeal elements, affective time, and spatial destabilizations. In my own side project (Promkhuntong, 2022), I have also revisited past records of a runaway film production (in the forms of a published monologue, a set diary, and a site visit) created by peripheral film workers to unpack their craft, creative, and care practices, along with the spatial memory left at a shooting location. These paratexts/palimpsests reveal complex relations of the new global division of labour, below-the-line authorship, and the impacts of a global film production on a (trans)national screen economy. *** Instead of somehow revealing what makes East Asian filmmakers become global figures via a finite and conclusive account, the exploration of ephemeral (para)texts created as part of the transmedia auteur culture studied in this book has built upon existing debates and discourses. It has also added layers 4 The performance is called Tanya Tagaq in Concert with Nanook of the North (2012), commissioned by the Toronto International Film Festival. The performance has also been on tour in different locations in Canada. 5 The movie is called The Green Fog (2017) and was commissioned by the San Francisco International Film Festival.

256 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

and degrees of self-reflexivity to highlight how certain spaces, agents, practices, writings, and playful (memetic/fan-filmic) gestures have emerged and constituted contemporary auteur culture. By coming to terms with the radical openness and diversity of auteurist paratexts, the need to collect/archive such materials, and the new possibilities of authorship that are enabled through performative and collective participations, our views on the long-discussed subject of “film” authorship may continue to develop – both at the macro-scale of media/cultural industries and in the dispersed, micro-sites of self-inscription.

Works Cited Baron, J. (2014). The archive effect: Found footage and the audiovisual experience of history. London: Routledge. BBC. (2022, September 22). My “Parasite”-style apartment was like a five-star hotel. https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-asia-62762128 Callahan, V. (Ed.). (2010). Reclaiming the archive: Feminism and film history. Detroit: Wayne State University Press. Chang, J. (2020, January 7). Commentary: “The 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles”: Bong Joon Ho rightly calls out Hollywood myopia. Chicago Tribune. https:// www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/movies/ct-ent-subtitles-parasite0109-20200107-dchcnhgj7nhl5fp4qlcnqgv6uy-story.html Ciecko, A. T. (Ed.). (2006). Contemporary Asian cinema: Popular culture in a global frame. Oxford and New York: Berg. Curry, A. (2020, January 24). Movie poster of the week: The posters of “Parasite.” Mubi. https://mubi.com/notebook/posts/movie-poster-of-the-week-the-postersof-parasite Eun-byel, I. (2020, February 11). “Parasite” Oscars have Twitter abuzz. Korea Herald. https://www.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20200211000804 Foucault, M. (1989). The archaeology of knowledge. London: Routledge. Hunt, L., & Leung, W. F. (Eds.). (2008). East Asian cinemas: Exploring transnational connections on film. London and New York: I. B. Tauris. Jäger, S., & Maier, F. (2009). Theoretical and methodological aspects of Foucauldian critical discourse analysis and dispositive analysis. In R. Wodak & M. Meyer (Eds.), Methods of critical discourse analysis (pp. 34–61). London: Sage. Jeong, S.-h. (2022). Parasite from text to context. An ethical stalemate and new auteurism in global cinema. In T. Botz-Bornstein & G. Stamatellos (Eds.), Parasite: A philosophical exploration (pp. 33–46). Leiden: Brill. Kendrick, J. (2001). What is the criterion? The Criterion Collection as an archive of film as culture. Journal of Film and Video, 53(2/3), 124–139.

Conclusion

257

Lee, V. P. Y. (Ed.). (2011). East Asian cinemas: Regional flows and global transformations. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Lothian, A. (2013). Archival anarchies: Online fandom, subcultural conservation, and the transformative work of digital ephemera. International Journal of Cultural Studies, 16, 541–556. Ma, R. (2020). Independent filmmaking across borders in contemporary Asia. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Manoff, M. (2004). Theories of the archive from across the disciplines. Portal: Libraries and the Academy, 4(1), 9–25. https://muse.jhu.edu/article/51302 Maule, R. (2010). Women filmmakers and postfeminism in the age of multimedia reproduction: A virtual archive for women’s cinema. Framework: The Journal of Cinema and Media, 51(2), 350–353. Ock, H.-j. (2020, February 18). Seoul to improve living conditions in semi-basement apartments depicted in “Parasite.” Korea Herald. https://www.koreaherald.com/ view.php?ud=20200218000706 Palis, E. (2020). Race, authorship and f ilm quotation in post-classical cinema. Screen, 61(2), 230–254. Pongsudhirak, T. (2020, March 24). Younger voices are taking back Thailand from military rulers. Nikkei Asia. https://asia.nikkei.com/Opinion/Younger-voicesare-taking-back-Thailand-from-military-rulers Promkhuntong, W. (2022). “Runaway” foreign film productions from a Global South perspective: film workers’ memories and site-specific traces from Thailand. Transnational Screens, 13(3), 218–233. Stedman, A. (2020, February 20). Trump mocks “Parasite” Best Picture win: “What the hell was that all about?” Variety. https://variety.com/2020/f ilm/news/ trump-parasite-oscars-best-picture-south-korea-1203509938/ Thain, A. (2019). Anarchival images: The labour of chronic collage. Intermédialités/Intermediality, 33. https://www.erudit.org/en/journals/im/2019-n33im04907/1065014ar/ VisitSeoul.net. (2019, December 4). Parasite tour of shooting locations. https:// english.visitseoul.net/hallyu/Parasite-tour-course_/32561 Wong, M. H. (2020, February 19). “Parasite” filming locations you can visit in Seoul. CNN Travel. https://edition.cnn.com/travel/article/parasite-movie-filminglocations-seoul/index.html Yoon, J. (2020, February 10). Parasite: The real people living in Seoul’s basement apartments. BBC. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-51321661

Filmography Angelopoulos, T.; Assayas, O; August, B.; Campion, J.; Chahine, Y.; Chen, K.; Cimino, M.; Coen, E.; Coen, J.; Cronenberg, D.; Dardenne, J.-P.; Dardenne, L.; de Oliveira, M.; Depardon, R.; Egoyan, A.; Gitai, A.; Hou, H.-h.; G. Iñárritu, A.; Kaurismäki, A.; Kiarostami, A.; Kitano, T.; Konchalovskiy, A.; Lelouch, C.; Loach, K.; Lynch, D.; Moretti, N.; Polanski, R.; Ruiz, R.; Salles, W.; Suleiman, W.; Tsai, M.-l.; Van Sant, G.; von Trier, L.; Wenders, W.; Wong, K.-w.; Zhang, Y. (2007). (Directors). Chacun son cinéma ou ce petit coup au coeur quand la lumière s’ éteint et que le film commence [To Each His Own Cinema] [omnibus film]. Cannes Film Festival; Elzévir Films. Antonioni, M. (1960). (Director). L’Avventura [film]. Cino del Duca; Produzioni Cinematografiche Europee; Societé Cinématographique Lyre. Assayas, O. (2004). (Director). Clean [f ilm]. Rectangle Productions; Haystack Productions; Rhombus Media; Arte France Cinéma; Film Council; Centre National du Cinéma et de l’Image Animée; Canal+; Matrix Film Finance; The Film Consortium; Forensic Films; Journeyman Films Ltd. Bae, Y.-k. (1989). (Director). Dharmaga tongjoguro kan kkadalgun? [Why Has BodhiDharma Left for the East?] [film]. Bae Young-Kyun Productions. Bayram, E. (2012). (Director). Stealing Wong Kar-wai’s Sunglasses [short film]. Bergman, I. (1966). (Director). Persona [film]. American International Pictures; Aurora; Svensk Filmindustri. Bong, J.-h. (2006). (Director). Gwoemul [The Host] [film]. Chungeorahm Film; Boston Investments; CJ E&M Film Financing & Investment Entertainment & Comics; CJ E&M Pictures; CJ Venture Investment; Cowell Investment Capital Co.; Happinet; IMM Venture Capital; Knowledge & Creation Ventures; M-Venture Investment; OCN; Sego Entertainment; Seoul Broadcasting System (SBS); Tube Pictures. Bong, J.-h. (2013). (Director). Snowpiercer [film]. SnowPiercer; Moho Film; Opus Pictures; Stillking Films; CJ E&M Film Financing & Investment Entertainment & Comics; CJ Entertainment; TMS Comics; TMS Entertainment; Union Investment Partners. Bong, J.-h. (2017). (Director). Okja [f ilm]. Kate Street Picture Company; Lewis Pictures; Plan B Entertainment. Bong, J.-h. (2019). (Director). Gisaengchung [Parasite] [film]. Barunson E&A; CJ E&M Film Financing & Investment Entertainment & Comics; CJ Entertainment; TMS Comics; TMS Entertainment. Byun, Y.-j. (1995). (Director). Najeun moksori [The Murmuring] [film]. Byun, Y.-j. (1997). (Director). Najeun moksori 2 [Habitual Sadness] [film]. DocuFactory Vista.

260 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Byun, Y.-j. (1999). (Director). Sumgyeol – Najeun moksori 3 [My Own Breathing] [film]. Docu-Factory Vista. Chen, K.-f. (1998). (Director). Zheng hun qi shi [The Personals] [film]. Central Motion Pictures; Spring International; Taiwan Film Culture; Zoom Hunt International Productions. Chidgasornpongse, S. (2008). (Director). Diseases and a Hundred Year Period [short film]. Chidgasornpongse, S. (2016). (Director). Railway Sleepers [film]. Chin, A.-h. (1984). (Director). Ye dian [Amazing Stories] [film]. Chang Hong Channel Film & Video. Coppola, S. (2003). (Director). Lost in Translation [film]. Focus Features; Tohokushinsha Film Corporation; American Zoetrope; Elemental Films. Dallow, A. (2004). (Director). Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me about Love [short film]. De La Cruz, K. (2004). (Director). Pugot [Headless] [film]. Filmless Films. Figgis, M. (2000). (Director). Timecode [film]. Screen Gems; Red Mullet Productions. Flaherty, R. J. (1922). (Director). Nanook of the North [film]. Les Frères Revillon. Godard, J. L. (1960). (Director). À bout de souffle [Breathless] [film]. Les Films Impéria; Les Productions Georges de Beauregard; Société Nouvelle de Cinématographie. Gondry, M. (2004). (Director). Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind [film]. Focus Features; Anonymous Content; This Is That Productions. Greaves, W. (1968). (Director). Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One [film]. Take One Productions. Han, K.-r. (2018). (Director). A-wol ba-di [Our Body] [film]. Korean Academy of Film Arts. Harron, M. (2000). (Director). American Psycho [film]. Am Psycho Productions; Edward R. Pressman Film; Lions Gate Films; Muse Productions; P.P.S. Films; Quadra Entertainment; Universal Pictures. Hitchcock, A. (1958). (Director). Vertigo [film]. Alfred J. Hitchcock Productions. Hou, H.-h. (2001). (Director). Qianxi mànbo [Millennium Mambo] [film]. 3H Productions; Orly Films; Paradis Films; Sinomovie. Iwai, S. (1995). (Director). Love Letter [film]. Fuji Television Network. Jenkins, B. (2016). (Director). Moonlight [film]. A24; PASTEL; Plan B Entertainment. Jeong, J.-e. (2001). (Director). Go-yang-i-leul boo-tak-hae [Take Care of My Cat] [film]. CJ Entertainment; Masulpiri Films. Kang, Y.-k. (2012). (Director). Beom-joe-so-nyeon [Juvenile Offender] [film]. National Human Rights Commission of Korea and South Park Film. Kiarostami, A. (1997). (Director). Ta’m e guilass [Taste of Cherry] [f ilm]. Abbas Kiarostami Productions; CiBy 2000; Kanoon. Kim, B. (2018). (Director). Beolsae [House of Hummingbird] [film]. Epiphany; Mass Ornament Films.

Filmogr aphy

261

Kim, G. (2003). (Director). Invisible Light [film]. Picture Book Movies; UniKorea Pictures. Kim, J.-w. (1998). (Director). Choyonghan kajok [The Quiet Family] [film]. Myung Film Company Ltd. Kim, J.-w. (2003). (Director). Janghwa; hongryeon [A Tale of Two Sisters] [f ilm]. B.O.M. Film Productions Co.; Masulpiri Films. Kim, K.-d. (1996). (Director). Ag-o [Crocodile] [film]. Joyoung Films. Kim, K.-d. (1997). (Director). Yasaeng dongmul bohoguyeog [Wild Animals] [film]. Dream Cinema. Kim, K.-d. (1998). (Director). Paran daemun [Birdcage Inn] [film]. Boogui Cinema. Kim, K.-d. (2000). (Director). Seom [The Isle] [film]. Myung Film Company Ltd. Kim, K.-d. (2000). (Director). Shilje sanghwang [Real Fiction] [film]. Saerom Entertainment; Shin Seung-soo Productions. Kim, K.-d. (2001). (Director). Nabbeun namja [Bad Guy] [f ilm]. LJ Film; Prime Entertainment. Kim, K.-d. (2001). (Director). Suchwiin bulmyeong [Address Unknown] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film; LJ Film; Prime Entertainment. Kim, K.-d. (2002). (Director). Hae anseon [The Coast Guard] [film]. Korea Pictures; Prime Entertainment. Kim, K.-d. (2003). (Director). Bom yeoareum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom [Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring] [f ilm]. Korea Pictures; LJ Film; Pandora Filmproduktion; Cineclick Asia; Cinesoul; Mirae Asset Capital; Muhan Investment. Kim, K.-d. (2004). (Director). Bin-jip [3-Iron] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film; Cineclick Asia. Kim, K.-d. (2004). (Director). Samaria [Samaritan Girl] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2005). (Director). Hwal [The Bow] [film]. Happinet; Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2006). (Director). Shi gan Japan [Time] [film]. Happinet; Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2007). (Director). Soom [Breath] [film]. Cineclick Asia; Kim Ki-duk Film; Sponge. Kim, K.-d. (2008). (Director). Bi-mong [Dream] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film; Sponge; Style Jam. Kim, K.-d. (2011). (Director). Arirang [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2012). (Director). Pietà [film]. Good Film; Finecut; Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2013). (Director). Moebiuseu [Moebius] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2014). (Director). Il-dae-il [One on One] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2015). (Director). Seu-top [Stop] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2016). (Director). Geumul [The Net] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, K.-d. (2018). (Director). Inkan, gongkan, sikan grigo inkan [Human, Space, Time and Human] [film]. Kim Ki-duk Film. Kim, M.-j. (2020). (Director). Gull [film]. Lotte Entertainment.

262 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Kim, S.-u. (2016). (Director). Asura [film]. Frontier Works Comic; Sanai Pictures; Stone Comics Entertainment. King, H. (1955). (Director). Love is a Many Splendored Thing [f ilm]. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. Koreeda, H. (2004). (Director). Dare mo shiranai [Nobody Knows] [film]. Bandai Visual Company; Cine Qua Non Films; Engine Film; Nobody Knows Project Team; TV Man Union; c-style. Kubrick, S. (1971). (Director). A Clockwork Orange [f ilm]. Warner Bros; Polaris Productions; Hawk Films; Max L. Raab Productions; Si Litvinoff Film Production. Kurosawa, A. (1950). (Director). Rashômon [Rashomon] [film]. Daiei Motion Picture Company. Lee, A. (2000). (Director). Wo hu cang ;ong [Crouching Tiger; Hidden Dragon] [film]. Asia Union Film & Entertainment Ltd.; China Film Co-Production Corporation; Columbia Pictures Film Production Asia; Edko Films; Good Machine; Sony Pictures Classics; United China Vision; Zoom Hunt International Productions. Lee, J.-h. (2002). (Director). Jibeuro [The Way Home] [film]. CJ Entertainment; Tube Entertainment. Lee, K.-m. (2016). (Director). Bi-mil-eun eobs-da [The Truth Beneath] [film]. Film Train; Gummy. Lee, K.-m. (2019). (Director). Persona (Love Set) [film]. Netflix. Lee, K.-m. (2020). (Director). The School Nurse files [film]. KeyEast; Oh!Boy Project. Lee, Y.-j. (1999). (Director). Nae maeumui punggeum [The Harmonium in My Memory] [film]. Art Hill. Lim, S.-a. (2019). (Director). 69 se [An Old Lady] [film]. Kirin Productions. Maddin, G.; Johnson, G.; Johnson, E. (2017). (Directors). The Green Fog [film]. Extra Large Productions. Marclay, C. (2010). (Director). The Clock [installation]. Paula Cooper Gallery; La Biennale di Venezia. Mizoguchi, K. (1953). (Director). Ugetsu monogatari [film]. Daiei Studios. Mo, W.-i. (2020). (Director). The World of the Married [film]. JTBC Content. Moriya, K. (2010). (Director). Shîsaido môteru [Seaside Motel] [film]. Asmik Ace Entertainment; J Storm; Media Factory; Nihon Eiga Satellite Broadcasting; Omnibus Japan; Studio Blue Co.; TV Man Union. Mu, F. (1948). (Director). Xiao cheng zhi [Spring in a Small Town] [film]. Wenhua Film Company. Na Bangchang, T. (1954). (Director). Santi-Vina [film]. Far East Film; Hanuman Productions. Nalin, P. (2006). (Director). Valley of Flowers [film]. Elzévir Films; France 2 Cinéma; Monsoon Films Private Limited; Pandora Filmproduktion; TF1 International; Filmcoopi Zürich; Diaphana Films; TPS Star; Filmstiftung Nordrhein-Westfalen;

Filmogr aphy

263

Filmförderungsanstalt (FFA); Centre National du Cinéma et de l’Image Animée; Eurimages; Hessen Invest; MEDIA Programme of the European Union; Pan Nalin Pictures; WonderWorks. Norbu, K. (2003). (Director). Travellers & Magicians [film]. Mission Film; Prayer Flag Pictures. Önal, S.; Çapoğlu, O. (2015). (Directors). Wong Kar Wai üzerine kisa bir film [A Short Film about Wong Kar Wai] [short film]. Ôshima, N. (1976). (Director). Ai no korîda [In the Realm of the Senses] [film]. Argos Films; Oshima Productions; Shibata Organisation. Ôshima, N. (1978). (Director). Ai no borei [Empire of Passion] [film]. Argos Films; Oshima Productions; Toho-Towa. Ôtomo, K. (1988). (Director). Akira [f ilm]. Akira Committee Company Ltd.; Akira Studio; TMS Entertainment; Kôdansha; Mainichi Broadcasting System; Bandai; Hakuhodo; Toho Company; LaserDisc; Sumitomo Corporation; TMS Entertainment. Ozu, Y. (1961). (Director). Kohayagawa-ke no aki [The End of Summer] [film]. Toho Company; Takarazaka Productions. Park, C.-o. (2009). (Director). Paju [f ilm]. Korean Film Council; Myung Film Company Ltd.; TPS Company. Park, C.-s. (1995). (Director). 301/302 [film]. Park Chul-Soo Films Ltd. Park, C.-w. (2003). (Director). Oldeuboi [Oldboy] [film]. Egg Films; Show East. Park, C.-w. (2016). (Director). Ah-ga-ssi [The Handmaiden] [film]. CJ Entertainment; Moho Film; Young Film. Petrie, D. (1988). (Director). Mystic Pizza [film]. Night Life Inc.; The Samuel Goldwyn Company; Virgin Vision. PP, B. (2009). (Director). Dear Kim. Remais, A. (1961). (Director). L’année dernière à Marienbad [Last Year in Marienbad] [film]. Cocinor; Terra Film; Cormoran Films; Precitel; Como Films; Argos Films; Les Films Tamara; Cinétel; Silver Films; Cineriz. Scheffer, F. (2011). (Director). Tiger Eyes [short film]. Dutch Media Fund; Pieter van Huystee Film & TV; VPRO. Schumacher, J. (1985). (Director). St. Elmo’s Fire [film]. Columbia Pictures; Delphi IV Productions. Scorsese, M. (1973). (Director). Mean Streets [film]. Warner Bros.; Taplin-PerryScorsese Productions. Tagaq, T. (2012). (Performer). Tanya Tagaq in Concert with Nanook of the North [live performance]. Toronto International Film Festival. Tarantino, Q. (1994). (Director). Pulp Fiction [film]. Miramax; A Band Apart; Jersey Films. Thongruay, R. (2015). (Director). Searching for Wong Kar-wai [short film].

264 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

Towira, P; Nilthamrong, J.; Kalayanamitr, A.; Shimizu, K. (Artists); Weerasethakul, A. (Advisor). (2008). Black Air [sound and visual instalation]. International Film Festival Rotterdam. Treut, M. (2009). (Director). Ghosted [film]. Hyena Films; Chi & Company; 3Sat; PTS; Zweites Deutsches Fernsehen. Truffaut, F. (1959). (Director). Les quatre cents coups [The 400 Blows] [film]. Les Films du Carrosse; Sédif Productions. Tsai, M.-l. (2003). (Director). Bu san [Goodbye, Dragon Inn] [film]. Homegreen Films. Tsai, M.-l. (2007). (Director). Is It a Dream? [installation]. La Biennale di Venezia. Van Sant, G. (1997). (Director). Good Will Hunting [film]. Be Gentlemen Limited Partnership; Lawrence Bender Productions; Miramax. Villaseñor, M. (2013). (Director). Phone Box [short film]. Weerasethakul, A. (1994). (Director). 0116643225059 [short film]. Weerasethakul, A. (2000). (Director). Dokfa nai meuman [Mysterious Object at Noon] [film]. 9/6 Cinema Factory; Firecracker Film; Fuji Photo Film, Thailand; Hubert Bals Fund. Weerasethakul, A. (2002). (Director). Sud sanaeha [Blissfully Yours] [film]. Anna Sanders Films; Kick the Machine; La-ong Dao. Weerasethakul, A. (2003). (Director). Nokia Shorts [short film]. Nokia. Weerasethakul, A. (2004). (Director). Sud pralad [Tropical Malady] [film]. Backup Films; Anna Sanders Films; Downtown Pictures; Kick the Machine; TIFA; Thoke Moebius Film Company. Weerasethakul, A. (2005). (Director). Worldly Desires [short film]. Jeonju International Film Festival; Kick the Machine. Weerasethakul, A. (2006). (Director). The Anthem [short film]. Weerasethakul, A. (2006). (Director). Sang sattawat [Syndromes and a Century] [film]. Anna Sanders Films; Backup Films; Centre National de la Cinématographie; Fonds Sud Cinéma; French Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Illuminations Films; Kick the Machine; Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication; New Crowned Hope; TIFA. Weerasethakul, A. (2007). (Director). Luminous People [short f ilm]. Lx Filmes; Kick the Machine. Weerasethakul, A. (2007). (Director). My Mother’s Garden [short film]. Dior; Kick the Machine. Weerasethakul, A. (2007). (Director). Nimit [Meteorites] [short film]. Ministry of Culture. Weerasethakul, A. (2008). (Director). Mobile Men [short film]. Art for the World. Weerasethakul, A. (2010). (Director). Loong Boonmee raleuk chat [Uncle Boonmee who Can Recall His Past Lives] [film]. Kick the Machine; Illuminations Films; Anna Sanders Films; Match Factory; Geißendörfer Film – und Fernsehproduktion; Eddie

Filmogr aphy

265

Saeta S.A.; Fonds Sud Cinéma; Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication; Ministère des Affaires Étrangères et du Développement International; World Cinema Fund; Hubert Bals Fund; Ministry of Culture, Thailand; ZDF/Arte; Haus der Kunst; Foundation for Art and Creative Technology; Animate Projects Limited. Weerasethakul, A. (2012). (Director). Ashes [short film]. Mubi. Weerasethakul, A. (2014). (Director). Fireworks (Archives) [installation]. Kurimanzutto. Weerasethakul, A. (2015). (Director). Fever Room [light projection performance]. The Asian Arts Theatre. Weerasethakul, A. (2015). (Director). Rak ti Khon Kaen [Cemetery of Splendor] [film]. Kick the Machine; Anna Sanders Films; Match Factory Productions; Geißendörfer Film- und Fernsehproduktion; ZDF/Arte; Astro Shaw; Asia Culture Centre-Asian Arts Theatre; Detalle Films; Louverture Films; Tordenfilm AS; Centre National de la Cinématographie; Illuminations Films; Match Factory. Weerasethakul, A. (2017). (Director). Metaphors: An Evening of Sound and Moving Image with Kick the Machine [short film, live performance, and music]. Kick the Machine; Waiting You Curator Lab; Bangkok CityCity Gallery. Weerasethakul, A. (2018). (Director). Blue [short film]. Les Films Pelléas. Weerasethakul, A. (2018). (Director). Sleepcinemahotel [expanded cinema]. International Film Festival Rotterdam. Weerasethakul, A. (2021). (Director). Memoria [film]. 185 Films; Anna Sanders Films; Beijing Contemporary Art foundation; Bord Cadre Films; Burning Blue; Burning; Centre National du Cinéma et de L’image Animée (CNC); Doha Film Institute; Eficine; Hubert Bals Fund; Illuminations Films; Kick the Machine; L’Aide aux Cinémas du Monde; Labodigital; Louverture Films; Medienboard Berlin-Brandenburg; Ministère des Affaires Étrangères et du Développement International; Piano; Proimágenes Colombia; Purin Foundation; Rediance; Sovereign Films (II); The Match Factory; Xstream Pictures; ZDF/Arte. Weerasethakul, A.; DuckUnit; Pataranutaporn; P. (2022). (Director and Collaborators). A Conversation with the Sun [interdisciplinary artwork]. Bangkok CityCity Gallery. Weerasethakul, A.; Lheureux, C. (2005). (Directors). Ghost of Asia [short film]. Alliance Française Bangkok; Kick the Machine; Ministry of Culture, Thailand. Weerasethakul, A.; Shaowanasai, M. (2003). (Directors). Hua jai tor ra nong [The Adventure of Iron Pussy] [film]. Kick the Machine. Wise, R. (1949). (Director). The Set-up [film]. RKO Radio Pictures. Wong, K.-w. (1988). (Director). Wang jiao ka men [As Tears Go By] [film]. In-Gear Film Production. Wong, K.-w. (1990). (Director). Ah fei zing zyun [Days of Being Wild] [film]. In-Gear Film Production.

266 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

Wong, K.-w. (1994). (Director). Chung hing sam lam [Chungking Express] [film]. Jet Tone Production. Wong, K.-w. (1994). (Director). Dung che sai duk [Ashes of Time] [film]. Jet Tone Production; Block 2 Pictures; Scholar Films Company; Beijing Film Studio; Pony Canyon; Tsui Siu Ming Productions. Wong, K.-w. (1995). (Director). Do lok tin si [Fallen Angels] [film]. Chan Ye-Cheng; Jet Tone Production. Wong, K.-w. (1996). (Director). wkw/tk/1996@7’55’’hk.net [commercial]. World Co.; DENTSU Music And Entertainment; Tohokushinsha Film Corporation. Wong, K.-w. (1997). (Director). Chun gwong cha sit [Happy Together] [film]. Block 2 Pictures; Jet Tone Production; Prénom H Co. Ltd.; Seowoo Film Company. Wong, K.-w. (2000). (Director). Faa yeung nin wa [In the Mood for Love] [film]. Block 2 Pictures; Jet Tone Production; Paradis Films. Wong, K.-w. (2001). (Director). The Hire [commercial]. BMW Films; Anonymous Content; Zeta Films; RSA Films. Wong, K.-w. (2004). (Director). 2046 [film]. Jet Tone Films; Shanghai Film Group; Orly Films; Paradis Films; Classic; Precious Yield; Arte France Cinéma; France 3 Cinéma; ZDF/Arte. Wong, K.-w. (2004). (Director). Eros [short film]. Block 2 Pictures; Roissy Films; Solaris; Cité Films; Fandango; Delux Productions; Jet Tone Production. Wong, K.-w. (2007). (Director). My Blueberry Nights [film]. Block 2 Pictures; Jet Tone Production; Lou Yi Ltd.; StudioCanal. Wong, K.-w. (2013). (Director). Yi dai zong shi [The Grandmaster] [film]. China: Block 2 Pictures; Jet Tone Films; Sil-Metropole Organisation; Bona International Film Group. Xiao, J. (2004). (Director). Meng ying tong nian [Electric Shadow] [film]. Dadi Century; Happy Pictures Culture Communication Co. Ltd.; Ningxia Film Group. Yim, S.-r. (2001). (Director). Waikiki beuladeoseu [Waikiki Brothers] [film]. Myeong Films. Yim, S.-r. (2008). (Director). Uri saengae choego-ui sungan [Forever the Moment] [film]. Inkas Film & T.V. Productions; MK Pictures; Myung Films. Yim, S.-r. (2018). (Director). Liteul poleseuteu [Little Forest] [f ilm]. Watermelon Pictures Co., Ltd. Yoo, I.-s. (2019). (Director). Baegabondeu [Vagabond] [film]. Celltrion Entertainment; Sony Pictures Television; Zak Productions. Yoon, D.-b. (2019). (Director). Nam-mae-wui yeo-reum-bam [Moving On] [film]. Graduate School of Cinematic Content; Tiger Cinema. Yoon, G.-e. (2019). (Director). Woorijb [The House of Us] [film]. Zhang, Y. (2004). (Director). Shi mian mai fu [House of Flying Daggers] [film]. Beijing New Picture Film Co.; China Film Co-Production Corporation; Edko Films; Elite Group Enterprises; Zhang Yimou Studio.

Index #MeToo movement 19, 87, 100, 107, 109, 197, 202 Post-#MeToo 98, 101, 104 South Korean context 95-97, 208-210, 212-213

Barthes, Roland 15, 121 Bergman, Ingmar 43, 160 Bourdieu, Pierre 17, 40, 174 Boyle, Karen 19, 20, 98, 100, 202, 209, 211 British Film Institute 40, 184

alienation 144, 241-243 Anderson, Wes 29, 78 archipelago 53, 55 archive Asian Film Archive 56 digital archive 9, 39, 253 film distribution 83, 254 film festival history 41, 44-45, 58 Korean Film Archive 110 of women’s cinema 254 Rotterdam Municipality Archives 61 Thai Film Archive 7, 40 The Archaeology of Knowledge 253 the archive effect 255 The Internet Archive 104 Arrow Films 95 art-cult Asian films 86, 110, 195 authorship 80, 91 art world connection to filmmaker 46, 54, 70, 157 connection with other sectors 26, 69 Robert E. Kapsis’s approach 17 value judgement 16, 44, 94, 209 authenticity authorship 122, 125, 163, 186 film star 221 self-performance 202, 243 authorship auteur-star 17, 147, 220, 233, 236 brand 16, 20, 137, 226, 232 clusters of 78, 82, 106, 110 collective 55, 98, 185 elite auteurs 16, 254 generation of 11, 18, 39, 45, 55, 70, 85, 236, 240, 254 media 13-14, 77-78, 100, 180, 220 micro-authorship 124-126, 145-146 new auteurism 228 performativity 30, 159-160, 170 persona 17, 157-158, 203, 208, 219, 221, 224-225, 230 post-auteurism 15-16, 183, 249 post-auteur self-reflexivity 24 reflective author studies 16 avant-garde authorship 19, 162 filmmaking 29, 159, 183 star 177 taste culture 14, 94, 195

Cahiers du Cinéma 43, 250 calling out 19, 28, 95, 195 Campion, Jane 15 cancel culture 99, 195, 212 CD 105, 126, 136, 232 VCD 124 Chen, Kaige 40 Chidgasornpongse, Sompot 185-188 Chinatown 88, 110, 140 Cho, Jae-Hyun 19, 97, 209 cinephile culture 26, 123, 128, 141, 251 new cinephilia 119, 121, 123-124, 136 pilgrimage 119, 123, 127, 141-142, 145, 252 co-branding 20, 58, 61-62, 175, 227 collectibles 57, 119, 127, 136-138, 231-232 consecration 16, 30, 39, 40 convergence culture 21, 25, 27 convergence auteur culture 21 Corrigan, Timothy 16-17, 29, 147, 165 creative assemblage 162-164, 182 Criterion Collection 46, 80, 83, 120, 123, 254 Critizine 57 cult auteur 80, 91, 196-199, 203 cinema 100, 195, 251 stardom 197, 201 cultural capital 55 popular cultural capital 124 subcultural capital 86, 138 cultural currency 41-42, 51 cultural hybridity 17 cultural intermediaries 57, 226 cultural memory 123, 253 curation 92, 145, 158, 254 Desser, David 11, 82, 124 Directors’ Fortnight 42 DVD box set 59, 85, 91, 93 commission 27, 44 design 24, 79, 89-91, 199 distribution 11, 14, 52, 77-78, 80, 82, 87-88, 99, 105, 110, 122 extras 16, 21-22, 52, 94, 123, 128, 166, 168, 174, 184 seller 240 Elsaesser, Thomas 42-44, 50, 122 essay film 59-60, 127, 160, 165, 185

268 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Tr ansmedia Culture

ethical conduct 83, 86, 197, 213 ethical consumption 20, 96, 251 ethos of the self 22, 29, 100 European cinema 14, 41-42 expanded cinema 62-63, 159, 161 experience economy 62, 65, 68, 125 experiential cinema 62, 65-67 experimental cinema 50-51, 61, 162, 168 extreme cinema 14, 110, 196, 198, 202, 207, 213 fair use 125-126 fan canon 127, 132 fashion auteur 30, 177, 205 industry 64, 158, 219, 228 feminism film canon 96-97 in relation to palimpsestuousness 23 organizations 99 virtual archive 254 Field, Simon 61, 173 film censorship 30, 158, 162, 185-187, 196 film festival Asia Pacific 40 Bangkok Experimental 50, 158 Bangkok International Art 158 Berlin International 42, 84-85, 209 Bosphorus 204 Busan International 10-11, 84, 184, 207 Cannes 11-12, 41-42, 44, 54, 79, 91, 179, 198, 202, 228 Crossroads International Short 240 Festival Internacional de Cine de Cartagena de Indias 204 Golden Apricot Yerevan International 204 Hong Kong International 11, 136-137, 141 Internationale Kurzfilmtage Winterthur 158 International Film Festival Rotterdam 10, 39-40, 47, 69, 84, 109, 158, 184-185 Jeonju International 180 Kerala International 105 Korean Film Festival in Australia 109 London Korean 107-109 Nederlands 59 New York Asian 109 San Francisco International 255 Seoul International Women’s 210 Singapore 56 Skepto International 240 Stockholm International 11 Terracotta Far East 87, 92-93, 94-95 Thai Short Film and Video 158 Toronto International 255 Venice International 41-42, 198, 209 Yubari International Fantastic 210 film festival director 61, 210 film festival programmer 28, 55, 61, 107

film magazine 10, 13, 43, 57, 80, 86, 91-92, 95, 105, 121, 143, 250 film profile 48-49, 51, 53, 59, 82, 185 film programming 45, 54, 77, 82, 92, 161 Film Virus 57 Fortissimo Film 90 Foucault, Michel 15, 253 French New Wave 225, 250 Genette, Gerard 21-23; see also paratext Geopolitics 10, 24-25, 41, 45, 47, 50, 53, 250 Cold War 10 Colonialism 10, 49-50, 203, 255 Global North 64 Global South 58 see also third world Golden Lion 42, 94, 198, 203, 205 Gray, Jonathan 22, 81, 140; see also paratext Hanbok 204-206 haptic fandom 128, 138-139 highbrow aesthetics 122 film magazine 43 historiography 22-23, 44, 98 Hitchcock, Alfred 16-17, 39, 220, 255 homage 26, 120, 126-128, 132-133, 143, 187, 239; see also tribute home-movie 94, 161 home video 78-79, 81, 83, 110, 126 Hong Kong Cinema 90, 124, 142, 227 Hou, Hsiao-Hsien 10, 43, 46, 109, 135 immersive experience 25, 62, 64, 66-67 informal distribution 101, 103-104, 106, 110-111, 121 Instagram 47, 65, 68, 103, 169, 178 intermedia art 19-20, 25, 47, 61, 69, 161, 184, 251 interpretive communities 45 intertextuality 23, 26, 119, 123, 125, 201, 243 Japanese cinema 10, 42-43, 141 jazz ambience 221, 231, 242 discourse 220, 224, 243 filmmaking 219, 225 soundtrack 230, 233 Jenkins, Barry 120, 129 Jeong, Jae-Eun 107-109 Kaewbuadee, Sakda 172 Kapsis, Robert E. 16-17, 40, 212, 220 Kawase, Naomi 12, 19, 58 Kick the Machine 53, 147, 188 Kim, Ki-Duk calling out 19, 95-97, 208-209, 212; see also #MeToo cult cinema 100, 197 distribution 77, 83, 90-91 film criticism 86, 107

Index

in relation to actors 19, 94, 207, 211 in relation to fans 98-99, 104-106 performance 195, 198-200, 205 South Korean cinema 84-85 with Asian auteurs 18, 80, 196, 219 Klinger, Barbara 16, 21, 123, 212 Korean Film Council 84 K-Pop 127-128, 132-135, 145 Kubrick, Stanley 29, 78 Kurosawa, Akira 10, 42, 141 Lee, Ang 12, 85, 227 Lee, Na-Young 19, 197 Letterboxd 167-168, 180 Leung, Tony 120, 130, 136, 224, 227 Livestream 239, 243 Lomokino 162, 175, 178-179 Lynch, David 78, 227-228 Malayalam cinema 105 language 102 martial arts 81-82, 89, 136, 204 mash-up 13, 27, 119, 127-132, 135-136, 145 meme 26, 120, 139-140, 219, 234-236, 241, 243; see also Stock Character Macro micro-influencer 87, 102-103, 111 Miike, Takashi 56, 80-81, 196 Modernist traditions artists 50, 177, 189 cinema 47, 51, 56, 162, 171 self-reflexivity 171, 174 Mubi 48, 106, 162, 175, 177-180, 189 music fans 128, 132 indie 127, 129, 131-133 industry 26, 129-130, 145, 227-228 jazz band 133; see also jazz musical experience 122, 225 musician 56, 224, 242 music video 127-128, 132-135, 180-184 national cinema film authorship 81, 84, 91-92, 141 film festival 42, 89 in East Asia 10, 14, 18, 53, 80 post-national context 43 sociopolitics 50-51, 87; see also transnational cinema new wave East Asia 10, 18, 42, 227 Europe 121, 225, 250Thai 51 South Korean 99, 105, 107, 109 Oscars 13, 102, 108, 120, 251-252 Palm d’Or 12-13, 45-46, 52-53, 59, 69, 108, 175 Paquet, Darcy 96-97, 107-108, 251 Parasite 13, 102, 108-109, 251-252

269 paratext auteur performance 159-161, 170, 175, 189, 195, 219, 220-221 collaborative process 9, 59, 121, 135, 174 fan/user-generated 101, 106, 119, 127, 140, 208, 235, 238-239, 251-252 film distribution 77-79, 81-84, 89-90, 92 network of 9, 20, 44, 119, 157, 161, 179-180, 184 palimpsests 21-24, 83, 183, 249, 255 transmedia 9, 16, 27-29, 87, 125-126 Park, Chan-Wook 11, 79-80, 86, 107-109, 196 parody 23, 139, 239; see also pastiche participatory culture auteur culture 27-28, 111, 250 collectibles 139 fan culture 121, 124, 236 film festival 39, 43, 57 pastiche 23, 219, 237, 239-240 performativity 29, 160, 179, 198, 243 perfume advertisement 228 branding 220, 229, 231 industry 230 personal cinema 167, 175 poetic mediations 30 Pongpas, Jenjira 172 popular culture 17, 26, 124, 127, 131, 220, 224, 243 print-on-demand 136-137, 139, 145 promotional materials 14, 18, 41, 48-49, 147, 161, 198 public persona 17, 29, 147, 196, 219, 220, 222 Ratanaruang, Pen-Ek 51 Rayns, Tony 46, 52, 86, 95, 168, 231 reception studies 13, 17 Redbubble 120, 137, 146 Reddit 96, 98-100, 108, 135 re-enactment 123, 130, 180, 200, 236, 239-240, 255 regional cinema 10, 43, 54, 61, 70, 85, 100, 110 remix 131, 254-255 Richie, Donald 10, 54, 141 Ross, Jonathan 12, 141 Scorsese, Martin 52, 221, 227 second-hand film market 14, 28, 80, 83, 88-90 Second Run 52, 166, 168, 171 self-confession 195, 197, 200, 213-214 self-fashioning 30, 169, 192, 195, 197, 203-204, 213-214 self-inscription 252, 256 self-portrait 30, 168-169 self-projection 157-158, 160-162, 168, 174, 195, 199, 220, 254 self-staged interview 170-173, 189 sexual assault 19, 95-97, 109, 202, 208-210,213 short film 93, 158, 239, 240 Sight & Sound 43, 64, 231

270 

Film Authorship in Contempor ary Transmedia Culture

social life 14, 24-25, 28, 103-104, 190 sociology of culture 16 Sony Pictures Classics 85,87, 107 South Korean cinema #MeToo 96, 107 history 107, 109, 202 film distribution 77, 86-88 new wave 42, 85, 142, 213 stardom auteur-stardom 17, 94, 174, 236 chains of attraction 147, 226-228, 231- 232, 242 cult stardom 147, 196-197 death 201 fan relations 239-242 para-confession 202 performative turn 226 persona 160, 221, 230, 233 self-confession 195, 197, 200-201, 212-214 transnational stardom 220 Stock Character Macro 234 subcinema 80, 95, 101, subcultural capital 86, 138 subcultural conservation 254 subtitles auteur 186, 252 distributor 79, 88, 90 fan 27, 101, 103-104, 206, 240 sunglasses 142, 219-226, 228, 230, 233-235,242 Swinton, Tilda 46, 64, 176-177 Tai Seng 82, 88-90, 134 Tarantino, Quentin 11, 82, 221, 227 taste culture cinephilia/fan 123-124, 132, 135 film authorship 14, 18, 25-26, 94, 243, 254 film distribution 92, 110-111 Thai cinema 1 9, 39, 51, 185, 187 Thai Film Foundation 158, 187 third world 42, 50, 55 Towira, Pimpaka 166, 180, 185 trademark 134, 221, 223, 231-233, 242-243 transmedia art work 12, 180, 188, 254 industrial transmediality 26, 136, 139, 144, 196, 228, 268 spatial transmedia 128, 142 transmedia experience 138 transmedia star 135, 147, 226-227 transmedia storytelling 25 transnational cinema 7, 18, 41, 58, 87, 249; see also world cinema tribute fan work 26, 127, 233; see also homage in relation to pastiche 239 official tribute 136, 238

Tsai, Ming-Liang 53, 56, 166 Tsui, Hark 81, 124, 142 Twitter #MeToo 96, 98 film festival 48 Oscar 13, 251-252 paratext 120, 253 Un Certain Regard 55, 91, 202-203 user-generated content 12-13, 22, 119, 128-129, 254 VHS 79, 83, 85, 88-89 video essay 30, 109, 134-135, 145, 233-234 video market 77-79, 110 weblog 20, 39, 54-57 Weerasethakul, Apichatpong @apichatpong_weerasethakul 68 censorship 185 co-creation 157, 162-164, 182-183, 188; see also creative assemblage film festival 39, 45, 47, 49, 54, 59 interview of 173 Palme D’Or winner 46, 175 performed by 157, 189 short films of 53, 147, 159, 164 the subject of sleep 64 with Asian auteurs 12-13, 18-19, 219 WKW 136, 221-222, 227, 231-232, 236, 239 women directors 108-109; see also feminism Wong, Faye 120, 133, 139, 227, 233 Wong, Joshua 241 Wong, Kar-Wai collectibles 120, 136-137 fans 13, 119-120, 124, 127-129, 135, 143, 158, 238 film distribution 82, 123 film festival 11 inspired locations 144, 146 jazz 225; see also jazz Kratum-Kwam-Wong 143, 241-242 luxury brands 27, 220, 227-229, 230 meme 235 trademark 134, 219, 223, 226; see also sunglasses; WKW with Asian auteurs 12, 18-19 world cinema 61, 99, 102, 111, 122, 204, 249 Yimou, Zhang 12 YouTube film distribution 90, 101 film fans 27, 102-103, 120, 128-131, 142, 234 film festival 48, 211 official videos 134, 166, 229 Zuilhof, Gertjan 53-57