CALL FOR CHAPTERS:
GRINDHOUSE: TRANSCULTURAL EXCHANGE ON 42nd STREET, AND BEYOND
Edited by Austin Fisher (University of Bedfordshire, UK) and Johnny Walker (Northumbria University, UK)
ABSTRACT DEADLINE: FRIDAY 20 SEPTEMBER 2013
To walk along New York’s 42nd Street was, from the 1960s to the 1980s, to undergo a kaleidoscopic encounter with an array of international film genres. In this the golden age of the “grindhouse” movie theatre, disparate cinematic cultures rubbed shoulders on the same bills. Long since celebrated as a melting pot of “cult” cinema, this distribution model would nevertheless be the cradle for some of the most culturally visible of contemporary filmic sensibilities. This book looks beneath the lurid marquees to tell the myriad stories at the heart of this transcultural process and, by examining these genres in turn, illuminates them in their national, historical and cultural contexts. By contextualising commonplace notions of a sleazy underbelly of drug pushers and peep-shows, it locates the American grindhouse as a site of cultural blending, in which audiences actively consumed and took possession of these diverse genres.
The volume's methodological emphasis will be on detailed historical, cultural and political specificity throughout: firstly, to offer close contextual readings of the emergence and lifespan of a number of disparate genres in their own places of origin; and secondly, through a focus on patterns of distribution and consumption that have subsequently contributed to these genres’ cultural legacy. The tension between specialised contextual knowledge on the one hand, and recognition of the unstable nature of local identities on the other will be interrogated, negotiated and bridged. The intention is not therefore to position the USA as an inevitable hub of cinematic consumption. Rather, it is to look with historically-informed nuance at a cultural moment during which these genres found themselves being consumed side-by-side, through detailed explorations of the cultural-political tentacles that led to, and emanated from, this confluence.
Topics that will likely provide the volume with its key case studies include, but are not limited to:
- Grindhouse genres: from pornography to Italian westerns to Blaxploitation to Chambara to Ozploitation (and beyond).
- An American porn actor in Italy: Grindhouse “stars”, past and present.
- From “Vincent Dawn” to “Clifford Brown”: Non-US directors and their Americanised personas.
- Django, Django and Django: Repackaging and retitling.
- Grindhouse audience studies.
- Grindhouse theatres.
- From directors to distribution: the continued influence of grindhouse on international film and film culture.
A variety of approaches are encouraged, with likely chapters covering genres' forebears, lifespans or legacies, conception, production, distribution or consumption.
Abstracts of 300 words should be sent to
austin.fisher@beds.ac.uk AND
jonathan.walker@ymail.com , accompanied by a short author biography detailing publications and/or research interests and institutional affiliation, by
Friday 20th September 2013.
Evil Dead (2013) is a minor triumph. Its brief run-time is suitably efficient. The "intervention" device is refreshing, providing the teens with a legitimate impetus to stay in the cabin and reason to disbelieve Mia in the early stages of her transformation. The cinematography is great, especially in the climactic sequence. It is as gory as hell, but what stands out is the amount of nasty, affecting injuries on display: there is nothing like stabbing someone in the face with a hypodermic needle to induce a sharp intake of breath. Is it 'the most terrifying film' I have ever experienced (as the tagline promised)? No. However, it was an enjoyable and often aesthetically striking film.
Cherrybomb has a strong cast and is competently directed, but ultimately suffers from a sluggish script that goes nowhere. The opening suggests that the protagonists will spiral out of control, but what that amounts to is a host of clichés: teens experiment with drugs (GASP!), have sexual experiences (DEAR LORD!), steal a car and crash it (YIKES!), and finally break into the local leisure centre (yawn...err, I mean YOWZA!). The film is more earnest and complicated than I am making it sound, but I hope to have captured its central flaw. Teen behaviour is routinely sensationalised in media representations, Cherrybomb comes off as a cross between a half-hearted Daily Mail editorial crossed with a humourless Porky's. To whit, My Super Sweet Sixteen is more dramatic and horrifying than this film. Worse still, it feels either like the writer has lived an utterly sheltered life (and so finds the events genuinely shocking), or is writing directly from personal experience, in which case they need to realise that their life is not interesting enough to sustain a movie. Even the ridiculous tagged on ending fails to stir. In short, Cherrybomb needed to be explosive, but unfortunately it is a dud. 
This
modern-day adaptation of the Jekyll and Hyde story is a mixed affair. The tone
is rather unsettled, swinging between overt comedy, science fiction, thriller,
romantic drama, and (unintentionally funny?) stabs at horror. The result does
not cohere, and is frequently cheesy. That said, the series benefits from James
Nesbitt’s enthused turn as the titular Dr…. Jackman. It genuinely feels like
Nesbitt is having enormous fun in his dual role/s. The main reason to watch is
simply Steven Moffatt’s writing, which is as delightfully witty as ever. As a
master of playful dual perspectives, the Jekyll/Hyde split provides Moffatt
with numerous opportunities to merge multiple meanings. Moffatt also pays
attention to the practical problems that arise from two personalities sharing a
single body, which range from the minor (one wakes with a headache because the
other has been drinking all night) to the major (one of them is married with
kids, the other is a violent womaniser). Mundane as they may sound, they
provide some of the series’ most imaginative and entertaining moments.
Elsewhere, Moffatt’s wonderfully economic writing takes centre stage. For
example, on a first-date one character is told not to make her usual mistakes:
don’t try to be funny, don’t intimidate him, and don’t come across as a gold-digger.
When her date opens with ‘what do you do?’, she responds ‘rich men’. It is
worth watching Jekyll for these gems alone. 
