They’re those things that used to happen in the middle of old and very long films. Lawrence of Arabia is the only film I have on DVD with an intermission. Back in those days, no one expected you to sit through three-plus hours of film without having a break, like Peter Jackson does with his interminable remake of King Kong. And I’m not going to either.
But there is still work to do, information to be acquired.
Over the course of Sexcatraz so far we’ve looked at two dozen films and examined them for traces of recurring destructive patterns around human sexuality and emotions. We’ve seen how they centre on sexual shame. The patterns identified in Sexcatraz are not there by accident. They’re not random. And even thought they may be normalised (i.e. widespread) that does not make them normal. So where did they come from?
The patterns identified in Sexcatraz are not there by accident. They’re not random. And even thought they may be normalised (i.e. widespread) that does not make them normal. So where did they come from?
The answer lies back in time, long before film ever existed. So during this intermission I would ask you to read my post A brief history of shame before continuing. That post takes us from prehistory through to the late 19th century, when Sigmund Freud established the discipline of psychoanalysis that allowed us to begin understanding ourselves. Coincidentally—or perhaps not—that time also saw the birth of the medium of film.
In the concluding parts of this series we’ll look at some films that chart our escape from the invisible prison of Sexcatraz.