Amer (Helene Cattet & Bruno Forzani, 2009)
The word 'pastiche' is usually used with dysphemistic value when discussing an object. You take a pre-existing set of symbols, alter them, and use them again, often for comic value. The presence of pastiche is seen as being a privation of creativity, as a form of theft of sorts. On the whole, there's an argument to make that this is indeed the case.
However, one form of pastiche which is outside of criticism is shorthand: the abbreviated form of language used by stenographers the world over. Shorthand has a function, it is designed to be faster, allowing precise notes to be taken at great speed. Shorthand is outside of criticism of being a pastiche, despite the fact that it is a cobbled together form representing a much larger, richer source, because it has definable purpose.
Shorthand can only work because of our familiarity with language itself. Once a language is defined and concrete, one can bring in a series of symbols which represent this language. However, in order to decode the shorthand, you have to be familiar with both the original language as well as the short form. Twenty years ago, if I had used the symbol '@' it would have been understood by few, but we all know it now. That's people for you, we learn things even when we don't know we're learning.
Cinema is something that largely doesn't have to be taught in order to be understood. Most cinemagoers absorb the rules of cinematic grammar by osmosis, simply by watching films. Sure, the terms given to these rules might only be known by those who have studied it, but knowing the names for these terms is not a prerequisite to be able to navigate your way through a cinematic grammatical structure. When one is familiar with how cinema works, one is open to being able to read cinematic shorthand without being taught. But is this pastiche?
Lyotard (1924-1998) introduced the term 'intertextuality' as an alternative to pastiche. Intertextuality involves the borrowing of previously used authorial terms into a new work, which is then informed by the work which preceded it. The television programme The Simpsons (1989-present) is a strong employer of intertextual lexicons: ideas and motifs from pre-existing works are employed all the time, but woven into a new object that is fully formed in itself, one that holds up whether the viewer is familiar with the previous object or not. This is intertextuality. On the other hand, something like Scary Movie (Keenan Ivory Wayans, 2000) requires the viewer to be familiar with the previous object Scream (Wes Craven, 1996) in order to understand the new object, because there is nothing else to Scary Movie. This is pastiche. These distinctions are important.
If I converse with someone I know well, our conversation will be intertextual: constantly referring to items of shared knowledge from previous events, whilst all the while being a new conversation. At times, words will be completely unnecessary, a look or gesture will be enough to communicate something larger, a shared understanding: this is a form of shorthand that exists between us. If I don't know the conversant well, then these looks and gestures will not communicate effectively. This is the danger with shorthand.
It's quite feasible that, because we are all so very familiar with cinema, a film could attempt to have an intertextual conversation with us that uses very little language. Instead of spoken dialogue, it could use a form of visual shorthand to communicate its message. That could work. As long as the viewer is open to the possibility of reading this object as intertextual instead of pastiche, and accepting the use of visual shorthand in place of spoken language, I think that would be a very enjoyable experience.
However, one form of pastiche which is outside of criticism is shorthand: the abbreviated form of language used by stenographers the world over. Shorthand has a function, it is designed to be faster, allowing precise notes to be taken at great speed. Shorthand is outside of criticism of being a pastiche, despite the fact that it is a cobbled together form representing a much larger, richer source, because it has definable purpose.
Shorthand can only work because of our familiarity with language itself. Once a language is defined and concrete, one can bring in a series of symbols which represent this language. However, in order to decode the shorthand, you have to be familiar with both the original language as well as the short form. Twenty years ago, if I had used the symbol '@' it would have been understood by few, but we all know it now. That's people for you, we learn things even when we don't know we're learning.
Cinema is something that largely doesn't have to be taught in order to be understood. Most cinemagoers absorb the rules of cinematic grammar by osmosis, simply by watching films. Sure, the terms given to these rules might only be known by those who have studied it, but knowing the names for these terms is not a prerequisite to be able to navigate your way through a cinematic grammatical structure. When one is familiar with how cinema works, one is open to being able to read cinematic shorthand without being taught. But is this pastiche?
Lyotard (1924-1998) introduced the term 'intertextuality' as an alternative to pastiche. Intertextuality involves the borrowing of previously used authorial terms into a new work, which is then informed by the work which preceded it. The television programme The Simpsons (1989-present) is a strong employer of intertextual lexicons: ideas and motifs from pre-existing works are employed all the time, but woven into a new object that is fully formed in itself, one that holds up whether the viewer is familiar with the previous object or not. This is intertextuality. On the other hand, something like Scary Movie (Keenan Ivory Wayans, 2000) requires the viewer to be familiar with the previous object Scream (Wes Craven, 1996) in order to understand the new object, because there is nothing else to Scary Movie. This is pastiche. These distinctions are important.
If I converse with someone I know well, our conversation will be intertextual: constantly referring to items of shared knowledge from previous events, whilst all the while being a new conversation. At times, words will be completely unnecessary, a look or gesture will be enough to communicate something larger, a shared understanding: this is a form of shorthand that exists between us. If I don't know the conversant well, then these looks and gestures will not communicate effectively. This is the danger with shorthand.
It's quite feasible that, because we are all so very familiar with cinema, a film could attempt to have an intertextual conversation with us that uses very little language. Instead of spoken dialogue, it could use a form of visual shorthand to communicate its message. That could work. As long as the viewer is open to the possibility of reading this object as intertextual instead of pastiche, and accepting the use of visual shorthand in place of spoken language, I think that would be a very enjoyable experience.