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Jonathan L. Beller
© 1994
PMC 4.3
The Movement-Image13
15. As I mentioned, we might imagine for a moment that at
a certain point in history (Taylorism and Fordism) the world
began to be organized more and more like a film. 14 As
Geoffrey Nowell Smith points out, the form of assembly
line production easily invokes montage--hence, the French
phrase chaine de montage, but the circulation of capital
itself may as well be thought of as a kind of cutting. 15 Much
as film stock is edited as it travels along a particular
pathway to eventually produce a film-image, capital travels
along its various pathways to produce commodities--it is
edited as it moves through its various determinations in
assembly line production. Like the screen on which one
grasps the movement of cinematic production, capital is
the standpoint or frame through which one can see the
movement of value, the scene in which emerges a moment
in the production process. Capital provides the frame
through which one observes economic movement. The
finished commodity or image (commodity- image) results
from a "completed" set of movements. Cinema, then, is
already implied by capital circulation; dialectical sublation is
a slow form of film.16 Thus Marx's Grundrisse, a Nike
sneaker, and a Hollywood film all share certain systemic
movements of capital to create their product/image.
24. Put simply, the aura is Benjamin's name for the fetish
character of vision.28 It is the watermark of the
commodification of sight. The frustratingly mystical
properties of the aura are due to the fact that it is the index
of the suppression of the perception of visual circulation.
The aura is the perception of an affect and indicates the
moment where the visual object is framed by the eye with
the desire to take it out of circulation. Like the fetish, it
marks the desire to convert exchange value into use value,
to free the object from the tyranny of circulation, and to
possess it. The fetish character of the commodity is the
result of capital's necessary suppression of the knowledge
of the underbelly of production, i.e., exploitation; it is the
mystification of one's relationship to the products for
consumption. Here, this mystified relation, expressed most
generally, is our inability to think the production of value
through visual means, that is, our inability to thoroughly
perceive the properties and dynamics of the attention
theory of value in the production of aesthetic, cultural and
economic value. The fetish marks the independent will of
objects, their monstrous indifference to our puny desire,
their sentience, that is the registration of their animation in
circulation. Commodity fetishism is the necessary ruse and
consequence of free enterprise, and its sublimity is the
antithesis of social transparency. This sublimity is further
intensified (as is social opacity) with simulation in the
postmodern.29 The aura, as the visual component of the
fetish, specifies the character of representation, visual and
otherwise, under capitalism during the modern period.
Simulation, which occurs at a higher speed and greater
intensity of visual circulation, specifies the character of
representation in the postmodern period.
The Time-Image
27. If "cinema" as the process and the sign for the dominant
mode of production does not immediately have the same
resonance as "capital," one need only begin to think of
cinematic relations as an extension of capitalist relations--
the development of culture as a sphere of the production
line. Thus cinema is at once a sign for itself as a
phenomenon and its process, as well as a sign for capital as
a phenomenon and its processes. Cinema here marks a
phase in the development of capitalism and capital's utter
modification (metamorphosis) of all things social,
perceptual, material.
32. This fluidity then is very much like the Grundrisse, the
first draft of Capital, with one important (historical)
difference: it is "post- dialectical," non-hierarchical and
non-totalizing. Like the cinema books, the Grundrisse is also
not a solid; it is as well precisely a representation of
production process. In the Grundrisse one cannot
understand the commodity form without understanding
the entire process of exchange. One cannot understand
exchange without understanding circulation and
production. One cannot understand circulation and
production without understanding money. One cannot
understand money without understanding wage labor. One
cannot understand wage labor without understanding
necessary labor time and surplus labor time. One cannot
understand these without understanding the falling rate of
profit and so on until one can see the grand functioning of
all aspects of the model, each mutually interactive and as a
result mutually defined. The constituent concepts of capital
flow into each other to create an image of social totality
similar in form to the grand spiral that Deleuze sees in
Eisenstein. Deleuze's concepts, on the other hand, all
precisely defined and interactive, create discrete images of
a totality that are individuated and non- interdependent. As
with Marx, the process of this totality occurs off-screen, as
it were, but unlike with Marx its architecture cannot, even
in theory, be grasped in its entirety. For Deleuze the process
of consciousness is unremittingly material but can never be
fully conceptualized. The concepts abstracted from the
materials that make up a filmic thought arise from the way
the elements combine with each other, but then fall away,
necessarily positing a world outside. However, unlike a
dialectical logic, the logic embedded in the concept tells us
nothing final about what is beyond the frame: hence the
plateau, the auteur, the assemblage. The method here is
not differentiation and sublation, but differentiation and
transgression. One moves across, not through and beyond.
But the necessity of moving across the infinity of
proliferations, the tireless press of movement, becomes a
beyond--quantity becomes quality, even for Deleuze. This
beyond is precisely the conditions of possibility for the
time-image. Even though he does not write "in the name of
an outside," an outside appears. The precision of Deleuzian
concepts, taken together with the impossibility of finding
an underlying logic which explains them in their totality,
makes them figurations of the fact of a beyond: they are
sublime.
33. Recall the way each of the sections in the cinema books
ends--with phrases like "the three time images all break
with indirect representation, but also shatter the empirical
continuation of time, the chronological succession, the
separation of the before and after. They are thus connected
with each other and interpenetrate . . . but allow the
distinction of their signs to subsist in a particular work" 34 or,
"It is these three aspects, topological, of probabilistic [sic.],
and irrational which constitute the new image of thought.
Each is easily inferred from the others, and forms with the
others a circulation: the noosphere."35 What I am
interested in here is the motion of the phrasing. In the
cinema books a summary of what came before is already a
going after. These are examples of the Deleuzian cut, which
as it finishes something off, begins it anew in another key.
Always leaving something behind, always moving on to
something else, the Deleuzian cut is always, infinitely in
between.
"Why," asks Deleuze, "is the Second World War taken as a break
[between the movement image and the image, between Cinema 1
and Cinema 2]? The fact is that in Europe, the post war period has
greatly increased the situations which we no longer know how to
react to, in spaces which we no longer know how to describe . . . .
[These] situations could be extremes, or, on the contrary, those of
everyday banality, or both at once [Deleuze's exhibit A is the neo-
realism of Rossellini]: what tends to collapse is the sensory-motor
schema which constituted the action image of the old cinema. And
thanks to this loosening of the sensory-motor linkage, it is time, 'a
little time in the pure state', which rises up to the surface of the
screen. Time ceases to be derived from the movement, it appears
in itself . . . .39
Deleuze argues that the film within the film is in one way or
another a film about the film's economic conditions of possibility.
One should take the citation from Fellini at once literally (when the
filmmaker runs out of money his film is finished) and absolutely
(when and if the money form becomes obsolete film will be
outmoded, which in a way it is). Though Deleuze says
disappointingly little about film's direct relation with "a permanent
plot, an international conspiracy that conditions it from within," it is
clear that for him cinema as forms of thought is locked into a dire
struggle with capitalism. The cinema of masterpieces is at once
enabled and threatened by the schizophrenia of capital. For
Deleuze the criteria of the masterpiece is the schizophrenic relation
to hegemony.
39. After writing that "the cinema confronts its most internal
presupposition, money," Deleuze goes on to claim that in
cinema "we are giving image for money, giving time for
image, converting time, the transparent side, and money,
the opaque side, like a spinning top on its end." 44 Though
one might be tempted to claim that this is not for Deleuze
an implicit recognition of the dialectical relationship
between cinema and money--on the contrary, the
relationship between time and money, with respect to
cinema, is one of reciprocal presupposition, a reciprocal
relationship that is not dialectical but, as Deleuze
emphasizes, "dissymetrical"--I should note here that
Deleuze's example to illustrate the dissymetricality of the
relationship between cinema and money is Marx's
expression M-C-M, which he contrasts to C-M-C. The
formulation C-M-C, Deleuze writes, "is that of equivalence,
but M-C-M is that of impossible equivalence or tricked
dissymetrical exchange."45 Though for Marx it is the very
mystery of the dissymetrical relationship money-
commodity-money which produces for him a critique of
political economy (that the second "money" is greater than
the first "money" raises the whole question of the
production of value), for Deleuze this dissymetricality
produces the category of the unthought, "money as the
totality of the film."46 "This is the old curse which
undermines the cinema: time is money. If it is true that
movement maintains a set of exchanges or an equivalence,
a symmetry as an invariant, time is by nature the
conspiracy of unequal change or the impossibility of
equivalence."47
45. But in the late capitalism of Until the End of the World,
visual representation and the unconscious are portrayed on
a convergent course. Furthermore, they are impacted in a
third term, the commodity. In a new innovation, the same
technology which allows the blind to see is used to record
and replay an individual's dreams by cutting out the
filmmaker- other. One of the characters involved in the
research on this new technology develops an addiction to
the ghostly colored electronic shadows of her own pixilated
dreams that flicker then vanish only to coalesce once again
as, for example, liquid blue and yellow silhouettes walking
hand in hand on a blood red beach. Endlessly she watches
the movement of the abstracted forms of her desire
mediated and motivated only by technology and her own
narcissism, rather than seeking an encounter with the
outer world through another visual subject. Her addiction
feeds on her dreams and her dreams feed on her addiction.
This video within a film is capital's shortest circuit--an
environment where the individual immediately consumes
her own objectification. Staring endlessly at video, only
breaking off in order to sleep, she is immersed in the time
of the unconscious and cannot be reached from outside.
The time of the unconscious secreted on the screen is
taken also as the Ur-time of late capitalism--a temporality
resulting from the infinite fluidity and plasticity of a money
that responds to desire before desire can even speak, and a
desire which, no matter what else it is, is desire for money,
the medium of the addiction. As emphasized by the setting,
a James Bond style cave full of high tech imaging
equipment staffed by aboriginal people in the middle of the
Australian outback, the strange outcroppings of capital
circulation are under scrutiny here. In late capitalism three
strands, representation, the unconscious and the
commodity, tend to converge in the image.56
Politics
Literature Department
Duke University
Notes
2. This point can be made more forcefully still if we see, with Walter
Benjamin, the category of experience fundamentally at odds with
the commodification of culture during a certain historical juncture.
Experience and narrative are in decline because of the emergence
of rationality as shock and information. See "The Storyteller," in
Walter Benjamin, Illuminations (New York: Schocken Books, 1969),
pp. 83-109.
9. Two related lines of thought: First, that the new technologies for
mining economic value from human flesh produce a new type or
class of worker equipped to meet the protocols of flexible
accumulation (by this logic, all TV viewers are involved in "cottage
industry"); and second, that an elaboration of the dynamics,
properties and economic relations of "infomercial" labor will help
to theorize other kinds of informal economies.
11. Paul Virilio, Speed and Politics (New York: Semiotext(e), 1986).
18. "The film is the art form that is in keeping with the increased
threat to his life which modern man has to face. Man's need to
expose himself to shock effects is his adjustment to the dangers
threatening him. The film corresponds to profound changes in the
apperceptive apparatus--changes that are experienced by the man
in the street in big-city traffic, on a historical scale by every present
day citizen" (Illuminations, p. 250, n. 19).
20. Instead of withering away like the State, the fetish character of
vision, the mystical warping of the visual field surrounding the
visual object of perception called "aura," has achieved, in the
situation of televisual reproduction under capitalism, a change of
state on par with the change in the status of the object itself:
today's equivalent of aura is the simulacrum. This change of state in
the object's specter raises questions about the changing
characteristics of mediation and the historical causes thereof.
23. That Benjamin at one point extracts the aura from the solitary
seer's gaze upon a tree branch serves only to prove that the
supplemental excess of vision that is the aura is not particular to
any one moment in an economy of vision, but is distributed along
all nodal points in the economy of sight. That which Benjamin
called "distance" is actually the irreducibility of the visual object
into a static object free from the visual circulation which eventually
annihilates the visual object as an object of sight. This finally is as
simple as the fact that we cannot look at the same thing forever
and that things impel us to look at other things. The way in which
our gaze moves is directly related to the way in which our bodies
and our eyes are plugged into the economy itself. "Distance," then,
is a form of vibration between the two determinations of
mediation. Like the commodity, the object of vision occupies two
states simultaneously, it is at once a thing, a use value, and a place
holder in the syntax of an economy of vision, an exchange value.
The experience of unbridgeable distance registers the impending
disappearance or submergence of any visual object back into the
regulated circulation of vision itself. Distance, that is, aura, is the
poignant registration of the visual object's oscillation between its
two determinations: an object of vision, and a moment in the
circulation of vision.
28. Through the eye one may grasp the dynamics of circulation in
general. Because such disappearance of authenticity is at once
more clearly marked in the realm of the visual (Benjamin, Berger,
Baudrillard) and, simultaneously, at present more characteristic of
late capitalism, I will here restrict my comments to the visual
component of aura.
31. Cinema 1, x.
39. Cinema 2, xi. For a thumbnail sketch with which to see the
difference between the movement-image and the time-image,
think of the difference between Griffith and Antonioni, or between
Eisenstein and Tarkovsky.
55. Though Deleuze would most likely agree with this statement, he
would not however be in accord with the idea that production as
such can be productively thought about in terms of political
economy. The machinic assemblage, for example, is for him
precisely a mode of production that avoids what he takes to be the
Oedipalizing tendencies of Marxism which returns all variations to
the law of value. Whether or not Deleuze is correct on this matter I
leave to readers to decide. Here I would only like to suggest that
the philosophical sources upon which Deleuze draws so heavily in
the cinema books, namely Henri Bergson and Charles S. Peirce,
particularly with respect to their work on quality--which arises from
a certain excess and manifests itself in time--might be analyzed
using the strategy adopted by Georg Lukacs in his analysis of Kant.
By posing the question, what has capital done to perception and
consciousness, or alternately, how are models of perception and
consciousness and the consciousness they depict utilized by capital,
the work of these philosophers might take on a new significance.
Peirce defines thirdness, the category that in part gives rise to
Deleuze's category of the time-image, as "that which is what it is by
virtue of imparting a quality to reactions in the future"
(Philosophical Writings of Peirce, ed. Justus Buchler, New York:
Dover Publications, 1955; p.91). This idea of a guiding persistence
manifest in such formulations as "Not only will meaning always,
more or less, in the long run, mould reactions to itself, but it is only
in doing so that its own being consists" (91), might well be
considered in the light of the emergence of organizational relations
which inflect the construction and the circulation of objects, i.e,
developments in capital circulation which orchestrate the
temporality of objects and thus change the character of their
significance. Such affects might be briefly classed as aura, fetish, or
the ideology of private property, but their variety might be, finally,
as diverse as affect itself. Bergson too, who claims that "our
perception . . . is originally in things rather than in the mind,
without us rather than within" (Matter and Memory, trans. Nancy
Margaret Paul and W. Scott Palmer [Garden City: Doubleday, 1959],
p. 215), might be studied in light of the diminishing agency of
subjects and the increasing agency of things.
56. The flattening out of the space between the unconscious and
representation is precisely the argument implicit in a variety of
socio-linguistic analyses from Orwell to Baudrillard: things are as
they appear, all of the would-be contradictions, yesterday's
contradictions, are on the surface, and since they are on the
surface they are no longer contradictions. The space of the fold that
registers alienation has all but disappeared. When dystopia is no
longer recognizable as such, we are in the postmodern; as in much
of the work of Tarkovsky, we are the unconscious. To the Orwellian
Trinity WAR IS PEACE, FREEDOM IS SLAVERY, IGNORANCE IS
STRENGTH, we may add a maxim for the theorist: CONSCIOUSNESS
IS UNCONSCIOUSNESS.
63. Spoken from the podium during the conference Visions From
the Post-Future, Duke University, Spring, 1993. The idea here is, as I
understand it, also one of the central theses of The Geopolitical
Aesthetic (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press,
1992).
64. Marx thought that the road was built with surplus labor time
(surplus value) that was somehow taken out of circulation in its use
as road and hence ceased to be capital. Elsewhere, however, it is
clear that the roads are necessary for capital circulation, i.e., that
they are constituted with what should be necessary labor time.
Clearly, surplus labor cannot be necessary labor without forcing the
implosion of the labor theory of value since capital is built, that is,
realizes a profit, precisely on this split. Marx couldn't decide if roads
were profitable or not. By taking cinema, and more generally mass
media, as higher forms of the road, some of these problems begin
to resolve themselves precisely because of the increase in intensity
of circulation and in the increasing frequency of the production of
"roads."