War and Cinema: The Logistics of Perception
By Paul Virilio
Translated by Patrick Camiller

“War is the art of embellishing death” (-Japense Maxim).
This ominous quote begins and highlights the main themes of the book “War and Cinema: The Logistics of Perception”. Author Paul Virilio, born in 1932 Paris, is a cultural theorist. He is best known for his writing about technology as it has developed alongside the arts, urban life and the military. In his own words, Virilio describes that, “this essay investigates the systematic use of cinema techniques in the conflicts of the twentieth century” (1). As readers, Virilio’s work allows us to explore several questions through the concept of the art of war. Is war imaginative like art is? Can violence be aesthetic? Is combat valorized? While the answers to these questions are debatable, it is clear from this book that war lives in its own ironies. War is both a highly studied and executed art form, as well as a horrifically, unexplainable tragedy. Virilio challenges the reader to see that both the tragic and artistic side of war can be tied to its strong media component, and more specifically to war’s relation with cinema. Virilio's interests in war, cinema and the logistics of perception are rooted at his thesis that military perception in warfare is similar to a civilian’s perception through the art of filmmaking. Thus, according to Virilio, the manipulation of images through human imagination and technological power is a process that is directly linked to both cinema and war. The author labels this parallel connection as the “war of images”, and depending on the perception we see that war like art may be “one man’s trash and another man’s treasure”.

The representation of war inspires new forms of reality. Virilio begins his examination of war by stating that there is no war without a strong component of representation. This representation can manifest itself in several ways and highlights the multifaceted components and capacities of combat. While war is scientific and premeditated, it is all the while ignited by its representative notions of exhibition and delusion. This paradox can be understood when we consider, for example, the representative positioning and camouflaging qualities of a battlefield. In addition, the intimidation factor of war is largely based on depictions of loud sounds and menacing explosions. Virilio believes so much in the representative forces of war that he goes on to say that in industrialized warfare, the representation of events outweigh the presentation of facts (1). Similarly, the author examines cinema as a method of symbolism. Virilio places great emphasis on technology and production and believes that what defines cinema is the exploitation of the projected images. Virilio connects the representation of war to cinema when he writes, “A war of pictures and sounds is replacing the war of objects” (4). Thus, the depiction of the examined fields inspires new forms of reality based on strategy and perception.

With the representation of war at the foreground of his essay, it is no surprise that Virilio relates political propaganda to the dependency between war and cinema. His exploration of propaganda is based in the context of the 1920s, with the rise of popular cinema. Subsequently, the technology and illusions employed by this growing art form became the foundation for the expansion of national governments and the emphasis placed on patriotism. In the case of Germany, the manipulation of reality was an essential aspect of the growth and sustainability of Nazi “culture”. With the anticipation of World War II, a new breed of both military and revolutionary leader arose. These leaders understood that real power was now shared between both war cabinets and propaganda departments (53). Through their direction, the employment of sounds and images was beginning to hold similar if not greater value to the logistics of weaponry. Impart, Hitler rose to power so quickly and was able completely alter the social order because of his manipulation of the projected reality. As historical witnesses, the possibility of such genocide that occurred during WWII can only begin to be understood if we take into consideration Hitler’s daunting violation of everyday reality through his “extraordinary technical knowledge of stage-direction” (53). Virilio suggests that Hitler’s plan for a new German empire required a “transformation of Europe into a cinema screen” (3). Thus, a pivotal piece of Nazi propaganda was Leni Riefenstahl’s film Triumph of the Will. This film featured, among other things, several speeches giving by Hitler in order to emphasize the overall theme of Germany as a great power. Undoubtedly, Hitler was presented as natural born German leader who could bring back strength and purification to his country. In the context of war and cinema, the powerful and ever shocking dictators were no longer simply rulers but were themselves directors (53).

Virilio’s insight into the creation of the “other” through war and media presents some striking parallels with the current War on Terror. Ironically, Virilio’s book was published at the end of the Cold War. Now, almost 20 years later this essay seems to highlight some of the exact paradoxes of what has been coined as the “9/11 Generation”. The hate of communism during the Cold War became in a sense what terrorism is today. It was the common enemy that evolved into having an ambiguous identity. Elements of fear from different sides created a totalitarian way of looking at the “evils” of the world, and the causes of tension lost their meaning overtime. Virilio writes that terrorism, “insidiously reminds us that war is a symptom of delirium” (5). War cannot be separated from its demonstrative qualities because its main drive is to “produce spectacle”. In the case of terrorism, its very purpose is to instill the fear of death before actual harm occurs. For example, even when weapons are not employed there are “active elements of ideological conquest” (6). This point could arguably be compared to the controversial search of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, and the succeeding war that continues today.

Virilio ends his unique insight into war and cinema with the words, “Scan. Freeze frame”. After being taken on a historical and critical journey of the evolution of technology and the development of psychological conquest, it is as if we the readers have been manipulated into a new dimension of reality. As a writer and critic, Virilio’s reflections seem very ahead of their time. Many of his historical examples of the strong component of media in war can still be applied today. Although the author erases all doubt of the connection between war and media, he does not place an enduring emphasis on cinema. Instead, he encourages us to reflect upon what types of media currently change our own realities and what methods of perception and conquest will be executed in the future. It seems that as society develops a greater media conscience there is a growing distrust for the stage on which war is performed. Our familiarity with media will of course not eliminate the possibility war, but it should challenge us to redefine what war is and how it may occur.