My name is Michael Schub; I’m a 2008.5 concentrating in International Relations with a focus in Global Security. The only class I’ve taken that dealt directly with film theory was MCM26: Cinematic Coding and Narrativity, and it was one of my favorites. The idea of media as a form of political power has always fascinated me. Of particular interest is when film or television crosses borders, either strategically, as with military propaganda, or in less directed cases of globalization, like the phenomenon that is/was Baywatch. In past courses, the focus has always been on media’s impact within a nation. With so much talk of global issues – the environment, terrorism, disease, etc. – it’s easy to forget that the news sources discussing this information are themselves acting on a global scale. Beyond fulfilling my senior seminar requirement, this course would deepen my understanding of film, radio, and television by putting them in a real-world context. It would hopefully unveil the forces at work behind these everyday media. The production aspect of this course is also an attraction. I never had the chance to take Video Production, and I look forward to coming out of the course with at least some technical skill.

“No help for it: language is always on the side of power; to speak is to exercise a will to power: in the space of speech, no innocence, no safety” (Barthes 311). I find it interesting that Barthes discusses teaching in terms of following a Law. In his view, it is the how of speaking that defines the type of teacher rather than the what. Speaking is more than just power, it is a “will to power” in that the teacher, unlike the writer, consciously takes on a separated, if vulnerable status to his listeners. It’s interesting that the second type of speaker, the “free artist” is choosing what seems like imperfect speech in an effort to come across as liberal and human. I would normally assume that everyone strives for the role of authoritarian when presenting a topic of expertise. That Barthes refers to the silent thinker and the militant as lacking speech implies that they cannot be teachers, yet I believe that silence carries its own pedagogical significance. In fact, many world leaders, from Churchill to Mandela, appear to have “taught” through multiple such roles. And what about formal speech making, such as the State of the Union address. When the words are written by someone else, must the speaker then become an authoritarian by necessity?

Barthes discussion of “An odor of speech” on pages 321-22 appealed to me because it seemed almost poetic. Descriptive phrases like “vertigo of the image” and “collapsing soufflé” add a sensory feel to an article full of technical descriptions and esoteric allusions. Barthes contrasts the lingering effect of speech (smelling) to the permanent distancing of writing (falling). He then goes on to discuss accountability as it relates to speaking and writing, noting that risks are higher when writing. Barthes concludes the section with a long aside to the reader, whereby he questions the very process of writing about speaking. Because he refers to memories and instances of speaking in the text, the “smell,” that immediate vulnerability unique to speaking still has an effect on the author. This dichotomy makes me question other instances where writing meets speaking, such as screenplays. When the dialogue is prewritten, does the actor feel the temporary self-consciousness of speech, or does he take comfort in the permanence of written words? What about the writer himself? With Heath Ledger’s death, some say method acting was to blame. They claim that, in reciting the pre-written words of a sociopath character like the Joker and making them his own, Ledger altered his self-identity. Personally, I believe this talk is sensationalist, but the path from speaking to believing is certainly worth thinking about in some broader context.