Korea
Hong Kong
Extreme social divisions that characterize the age of inequality reach a boiling point in nightmarish visions of deadly violence.
Extreme social divisions that characterize the age of inequality reach a boiling point in nightmarish visions of deadly violence.
JOKER’s critical and popular success provoked an alarmist reaction from the mainstream press fearing copycat violence. Whether directed at the self or the other, the act of killing is an extreme occurrence that has become disturbingly commonplace as a climactic form of catharsis in key films from the age of inequality, in which the seemingly isolated madness of a lone individual has its cause in collective grievances, often triggering a chain reaction that leads to mob violence as a form of vigilante justice.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
JOKER’s critical and popular success provoked an alarmist reaction from the mainstream press fearing copycat violence. Whether directed at the self or the other, the act of killing is an extreme occurrence that has become disturbingly commonplace as a climactic form of catharsis in key films from the age of inequality, in which the seemingly isolated madness of a lone individual has its cause in collective grievances, often triggering a chain reaction that leads to mob violence as a form of vigilante justice.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
The premise of meeting the parents from Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? gets a “body snatcher” makeover for the age of inequality in GET OUT, a black satire that goes for the jugular in its attack on white liberal elites. The protagonist’s subjectivity is again the focal point, as the audience shares his perspective, and in the absence of narrative omniscience, we are offered no reassurances of a definitive account of the truth, but must piece together the horrific vision of a conspiracy.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
Extreme social divisions that characterize the age of inequality reach a boiling point in nightmarish visions of deadly violence.
Extreme social divisions that characterize the age of inequality reach a boiling point in nightmarish visions of deadly violence.
Korea
China
France
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
JOKER’s critical and popular success provoked an alarmist reaction from the mainstream press fearing copycat violence. Whether directed at the self or the other, the act of killing is an extreme occurrence that has become disturbingly commonplace as a climactic form of catharsis in key films from the age of inequality, in which the seemingly isolated madness of a lone individual has its cause in collective grievances, often triggering a chain reaction that leads to mob violence as a form of vigilante justice.
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
A TOUCH OF SIN anticipated the era’s dark obsession with violence as a response to social ills, whether in real life or as a form of myth. The detached sociological approach of Jia’s observational realism diagnoses violence as the very symptom of the social disorder to which it is offered as a solution. Nevertheless, it explores cultural roots to the public’s association of certain forms of violence or vengeance with the restoration of justice, indicative of frustration with existing institutions and the societal status quo.
The premise of meeting the parents from Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? gets a “body snatcher” makeover for the age of inequality in GET OUT, a black satire that goes for the jugular in its attack on white liberal elites. The protagonist’s subjectivity is again the focal point, as the audience shares his perspective, and in the absence of narrative omniscience, we are offered no reassurances of a definitive account of the truth, but must piece together the horrific vision of a conspiracy.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
A TOUCH OF SIN anticipated the era’s dark obsession with violence as a response to social ills, whether in real life or as a form of myth. The detached sociological approach of Jia’s observational realism diagnoses violence as the very symptom of the social disorder to which it is offered as a solution. Nevertheless, it explores cultural roots to the public’s association of certain forms of violence or vengeance with the restoration of justice, indicative of frustration with existing institutions and the societal status quo.
LES MISERABLES details how injustice and oppression are a structural part of the everyday functioning of a ghetto community in the multi-ethnic public housing projects of Paris’s suburbs. The unjust compromises, however, of business as usual are unexpectedly upset by the mob justice or revolutionary violence of its coda. The film’s popularity in Hong Kong following the 2019 protests reminds us also of the eruptions of deadly violence that characterize a number of recent local films addressing social issues.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
LES MISERABLES details how injustice and oppression are a structural part of the everyday functioning of a ghetto community in the multi-ethnic public housing projects of Paris’s suburbs. The unjust compromises, however, of business as usual are unexpectedly upset by the mob justice or revolutionary violence of its coda. The film’s popularity in Hong Kong following the 2019 protests reminds us also of the eruptions of deadly violence that characterize a number of recent local films addressing social issues.
LES MISERABLES details how injustice and oppression are a structural part of the everyday functioning of a ghetto community in the multi-ethnic public housing projects of Paris’s suburbs. The unjust compromises, however, of business as usual are unexpectedly upset by the mob justice or revolutionary violence of its coda. The film’s popularity in Hong Kong following the 2019 protests reminds us also of the eruptions of deadly violence that characterize a number of recent local films addressing social issues.
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
The extreme nature of Joker’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed)suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, Assault on Wall Street). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
A TOUCH OF SIN anticipated the era’s dark obsession with violence as a response to social ills, whether in real life or as a form of myth. The detached sociological approach of Jia’s observational realism diagnoses violence as the very symptom of the social disorder to which it is offered as a solution. Nevertheless, it explores cultural roots to the public’s association of certain forms of violence or vengeance with the restoration of justice, indicative of frustration with existing institutions and the societal status quo.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, Assault on Wall Street). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, Assault on Wall Street). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, ASSAULT ON WALL STREET). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
Despite treatments by auteurs like Edward Yang and Michael Haneke, the shooting spree was a marginal subject confined to such works of art cinema or, say, the B-movie revenge fantasies of the derided cult filmmaker Uwe Boll (RAMPAGE, Assault on Wall Street). By decade’s end, however, the phenomenon was a subject fit for blockbusters. Based on the 2011 Norway attacks, 22 JULY attempts a more contextualized understanding of the subject.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.
There is a sense of urgency to BURNING’s treatment of romance as an allegory for class relations in the age of inequality. As in other key contemporary films on the subject, political anxieties about the economic divide are translated into a kind of psychological terror or paranoia about how cross-class romance can ultimately only be illusory, and that a more sinister conspiracy of exploitation or prostitution lurks behind the fantasy, as imagined by the writer protagonist and fueled by his speculations as an incel.
JOKER’s critical and popular success provoked an alarmist reaction from the mainstream press fearing copycat violence. Whether directed at the self or the other, the act of killing is an extreme occurrence that has become disturbingly commonplace as a climactic form of catharsis in key films from the age of inequality, in which the seemingly isolated madness of a lone individual has its cause in collective grievances, often triggering a chain reaction that leads to mob violence as a form of vigilante justice.
The extreme nature of JOKER’s live, televised murder-cum-(failed) suicide – preceded by the act of matricide and leading to a wave of uncontrolled mob violence to “kill the rich” – is echoed in PARASITE and GET OUT, whose climaxes could only be described as a bloodbath or massacre. What is striking about these films is not just the brutality of the violence, but how they spoke to the public not as marginal works of cult cinema but mainstream blockbuster hits that became part of the era’s zeitgeist.