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“The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point
is to change it.”—Karl Marx
The focus of this documentary, Jacques Derrida, is
a noted and controversial living French philosopher and the
founder of deconstructionism. You could easily spend your
life attacking, defending, or just trying to understand him.
Ziering Kofman has mused on what it would be like if
we had such an archive of Socrates or Nietzsche.
I wonder how the history of Russia or China might have been
different if there had been a better public understanding
of Marx. She is right. Derrida might have an
importance that we can’t even begin to comprehend.
First, don’t ask me to define deconstructionism. I can’t
and, after watching this film, I still can’t. The film does
not fail to explain the essence of this philosophy because
it doesn’t even try. If you lack that knowledge, the film
attempts to pique your interest in Derrida and deconstructionism
by showing you how it is applied, in the man’s own words and
actions, and in the very way the film is shot and edited.
In a way, it provides the joke but leaves you to determine
the punchline. This can provide some unique insight, but it
can also irritate the hell out of you.
Second, this film will require some intellectual gymnastics,
and I fell on my mental ass plenty of times while trying to
follow some recited quotation from one of Derrida’s books
while integrating it into the visual aspects of the film.
My brain kept reminding me about my day job. Now, I can actually
recognize all of the names from the Monty
Python Philosophers’ Drinking Song, and I still have a
healthy curiosity about the nature of reality, but I feel
like that wasn’t enough. I’m not a genius, but I am a proud
Sub-genius™. This film might inspire some of us to renew a
program of mental conditioning and pursue enlightenment through
deconstructionism. For many more, it will convince them that
this philosophy is nothing more than masturbatory bullshit,
and I will presume that is not the intention of the filmmakers.
Ziering Kofman has chosen to compromise nothing, making
a film as pure as her passion for her subject. Kirby Dick
and editor Matt Clarke helped craft this vision into
a visually elegant, pleasant, and structurally poetic film,
remarkably less painful than it might be. If only it were
not so enigmatic to the uninitiated. If you are a Derrida
groupie, I feel you will be ecstatic about this film. You
will give it 5 stars and gladly drive hundreds of miles to
see it. All of those reviews cited on their website are right
on the money. Otherwise, deconstructionism, in some sense,
is about truth and the limits of communication, and this film
is said to structurally honor its insight. This might explain
the scene where you barely understand the conversation between
a student and Derrida because the sound man is visibly fiddling
with the microphone. Also, having a working knowledge of deconstructionism
should enhance the scene where the camera lurks and peers
in the window, behind which other cameramen silently shoot
an interview with Derrida, all while the filmmaker and narrator
read another quote from a book. It is overtly artistic, but
remains an effective and memorable shot. The music, pleasant
and used deftly to provide innovative atmosphere and motion,
only occasionally rises to challenge the narrative track in
an almost intentional way. The film has impressive camera
work and it flows beautifully. The editing process must have
been brutal. Clearly hours and hours of footage were examined
for their entertaining conveyance of the message, whatever
that may be.
If you are less tolerant of philosophical games, you might
return to my opening quotation. Derrida invests considerable
attention to the relationship of such thoughts to the world
we think we know. Derrida, the man, reveals himself to live
his philosophy in an intriguing way. His visit to South Africa,
seeing the prison cell that held Nelson Mandela, is
a stirring and thought-provoking moment which invites the
viewer to open-ended speculation on how this philosophy might
affect terrifyingly non-theoretical situations. Even for the
uninitiated, this almost redeems the film. It is never really
pedantic, only a little presumptuous. As we say, “No Secret
Handshakes.” I’m sorry, but this film should have included
a password.
A final hint: In five minutes of awkward conversation about
the film with three others after the screening, comparing
notes on our frustrations, I had more enjoyment than in the
entire film. A passionate and extremely enlightening denunciation
(deconstruction?) of the movie ensued. In the fine tradition
of the above-mentioned song, plan to see this film in a small
group and depart to a favorite local establishment. Raise
the wrist more than a few times with your beverage of choice,
and enjoy the company and discussion. That should make it
a five-star experience for everyone.
—Steven Harding
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