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This article delves into the concept of waiting in cinema and media studies, using the film "Middle of Nowhere" as a case study. It explores how waiting has been studied in various disciplines and its negative connotations in society. The article highlights the complexities of waiting and its portrayal in media culture, cautioning against viewing the film solely as a lesson about social realities and emphasizing its artistic value. It analyzes the different forms of waiting depicted in the film and their impact on the protagonist's agency, while also discussing the enigmatic ending and its implications for Black experience and narrative interpretation. Overall, the article presents the film as a nuanced exploration of waiting and agency, challenging simplistic views of social reality. [Extracted from the article]

The Event Horizon Telescope (EHT) is an array of radio telescopes around the world that uses the technique of Very Long Baseline Interferometry (VLBI) to create a virtual Earth‐sized telescope. Using this technique, the EHT released the first image of a black hole on April 10, 2019, accelerating black hole science and creating enormous public impact. Now, a team of scientists and engineers is looking ahead to the next horizon: movies of black holes. In this paper, we give an overview of how the next‐generation EHT (ngEHT) Project has adopted a systems engineering approach to the design of future improvements to the EHT array, developing clear traceability from community‐defined key science goals. Scheduling, operations, site selection, observing bandwidth, data transport, and data management are some of the many factors that require careful consideration and balance and therefore benefit from intentional systems engineering methods underpinned by a "single source of truth" system model. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Jordan Peele's Nope (2022) features a shape‐shifting and Cthulhu‐esque alien that feeds off settlers and other arrivants in the California desert. Focusing in particular on the Haywoods, a family of Hollywood horse wranglers descended from the otherwise anonymous Black rider on the horse of Eadweard Muybridge's famous Animal Locomotion Plate 626, Nope can be read as suggesting the ubiquitous nature of anti‐Black violence. Furthermore, this essay will suggest that the informe nature of the alien, referred to in the film as Jean Jacket, and which eventually reveals itself to be something like a giant jellyfish, also mirrors the way in which Blackness has historically been—and continues to be—treated likewise as informe, or what Zakiyyah Iman Jackson refers to as "plastic." In other words, Nope suggests that Blackness is linked in the white Western imagination to plasticity and animality, as made clear by the restaging in Peele's film of the Muybridge sequence, but now featuring Jean Jacket and OJ Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya). Finally, by exploring Blackness as effectively "alien" to white hegemony, Nope suggests a Black cinema that appropriates that "alienness" and one that becomes a vernacular/informal countercinema that resists white supremacy. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Mia Mask's book "Black Rodeo: A History of the African American Western" explores the often overlooked tradition of Black Western films in American cinema, focusing on the era of civil rights and Black Power in the 1960s and 1970s. Mask argues that these films drew from Black nationalism to address themes of racial injustice, white supremacy, and Black empowerment, pushing the boundaries of the Western genre. While Mask's survey is important in laying the foundation for future work on the African American Western, some ideas in the book are left underexplored, leaving readers to fully grasp how these films challenge and reinforce American Western film tropes. [Extracted from the article]

The article examines the connection between the past and the present, and between the personal and the political, in three recent biographical pictures directed by filmmakers of color: The Birth of a Nation (2016, dir. Nate Parker), Harriet (2018, dir. Kasi Lemmons), and Emancipation (2022, dir. Antoine Fuqua). By addressing the history of American slavery, the films not only come into a dialogue with the preexisting representations of slavery in music, photography and cinema, but also reflect on current racial politics and antiracist activism in the United States. They offer a commentary on changing attitudes towards the issue of race in America, and engage with the collective memory of slavery - a past trauma, which has shaped the African American identity [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article focuses on Charles Burnett's short films Several Friends (1969) and The Horse (1973). His loose narrative structure magnifies the way his characters seek to grasp self-identity and self-determination in the midst of the second Great Migration during the Second World War and the Watts Unrest of 1965. Ultimately, this project identifies how Burnett's filmmaking style and storytelling approach focuses on the social positioning of Black working-class men in the space of South Los Angeles and the memory of the rural South. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The article discusses the lumbung one project at documenta fifteen, which aimed to challenge expectations of a "Global South" exhibition. The project focused on collaborative network structures and collectivity, but the article argues that the specific artworks presented have not received enough attention. The article also explores other topics such as Palestinian art, dance as a medium for nation-building narratives, and the solidarity networks connecting Japan to Palestine. The issue's cover, which is black, is seen as a sign of mourning for lives lost in ongoing war and destruction. [Extracted from the article]

Copyright of Doc On-Line: Revista Digital de Cinema Documentário is the property of Doc On-Line: Revista Digital de Cinema Documentario and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Copyright of Revista Foco (Interdisciplinary Studies Journal) is the property of Revista Foco and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

This article investigates Black moviegoing in the United States during the silent film era. In existing scholarship, African American moviegoers tend to be discussed with reference to race movies – that is, independent films featuring all-Black casts. However, even during their heyday, race movies were in limited supply and could not compete directly with the dominant, vertically integrated Hollywood film studios. Thus, using data gathered from film programmes of Harlem's Black cinemas in the 1920s – reconstructed primarily through Black newspapers New York Age and New York Amsterdam News – the article discusses the popularity of Hollywood films among Black spectators. If Black viewers were not embedded in the newly institutionalised white fan culture – consuming screen narratives that representationally marginalised them – then what were the parameters of their engagement? Drawing on fan magazines, social surveys, and established literature on African Americans as consumers of mainstream culture, this piece interrogates the pleasures of cinema as articulated by Black viewers. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The article presents an interview with author Claire Colebrook's recent books, including Death of the PostHuman, Sex After Life, and Twilight of the Anthropocene Idols, examine the problem of extinction within philosophy and cultural studies. She argues that rather than trying to save the human and its world from extinction, we should embrace the encounter with extinction and detach ourselves from the human and its false universalism.

In this article I will explore the use of indie music within two African American independent films, Medicine for Melancholy (2008) and Pariah (2011). These two films are rare examples of African American films featuring an extensive employment of indie music, despite a huge growth in such music appearing within feature films over the past twenty years. I investigate some of the racial contours of indie music and examine how it is utilised within the two films under analysis. Both these films employ indie music to explore individuals who do not conform to some of the more stereotypical characteristics of black identities. I frame these analyses within a broader discussion of the links between indie music – particularly indie rock – and whiteness, exploring prejudices against, and marginalisation of, many black music artists within indie music cultures. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Copyright of Sociedade e Estado is the property of Sociedade e Estado and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

The 1990s were an important and prolific period for Black artistic depictions of the inner city. At the same time, these works were subject to mainstream pressure for documentary realism that would allow the ghetto to be a knowable quantity for white audiences and consumers. Nevertheless, many of these novels, films, and musical albums relied on surreal and disturbing imagery to recreate the otherwise invisible racial capitalist mechanisms at work on Black neighborhoods. This article seeks a reading practice that better registers how these Black artists used affective horror to represent racialized urban space. I refer to these unsettling renderings of urban environs as the horror spatial imaginary , a play on the spatial imaginary that emphasizes the visceral and the horrifying in order to observe power's role in crafting spatial narratives. I read two influential works of the 1990s, John Edgar Wideman's novel Philadelphia Fire (1990) and director Ernest R. Dickerson's film Juice (1993), for how both utilize affective horror as a way of reimagining racialized space. Both artists use horrifying images such as crushing dark and unseen monstrous hands to communicate white supremacy's mark on ghettoized neighborhoods. In doing so Wideman and Dickerson eschew the strictly sociorealistic for imaginative and horrific portrayals that allow for better critiques of power. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Evelyn Preer was an African American stage and film performer who achieved popularity in late 1920s. Before her untimely death in 1932, at the age of 36, Preer starred in 16 films, most of which were directed and produced by a prolific Black filmmaker Oscar Micheaux. Although a potent symbol in Black domain, her status as a screen star remained largely unexamined by contemporary white critics. Instead, the popular press concentrated on stage performances, such as Preer's titular role in Broadway adaptation of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. This article examines the debates that surrounded Black female entertainers—especially Preer, but also Florence Mills—by drawing on Chicago Defender, New York Age and other African American newspapers of the era. It uses Preer as a primary case study to characterise the ways in which Black stardom was discursively similar to, but also necessarily different, from the constructions of dominant, Hollywood stardom. It situates African American within the gendered rhetoric of respectability, the New Negro discourse, and patriarchal ideas of the acting profession. Preer's visibility in the white domain constituted an act of resistance, and a reminder of the Black struggle for equality. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Kam Copeland is a PhD candidate in Cinema and Media Studies at the University of Southern California and Dissertation Fellow in African and African Diaspora Studies at Boston College. With a primary emphasis on the Nation of Islam (NOI) - which the broadcast refers to as "the Black Muslims" - The Hate That Hate Produced represents Black Muslimness as theologically inferior and politically menacing to white Western society. Copeland: A chapter of my dissertation centers home videos produced in the late 1970s by the El Rukns (formerly known as the Blackstone Rangers), a Chicago-based street organization. [Extracted from the article]

Copyright of Bulletin of the Institute of Ethnography of the Serbian Academy of Sciences & Arts / Glasnik Etnografskog Instituta SANU is the property of Institute of Ethnography, SASA and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. This abstract may be abridged. No warranty is given about the accuracy of the copy. Users should refer to the original published version of the material for the full abstract. (Copyright applies to all Abstracts.)

Illuminated in black & white piano key celluloid silver screens, that gilded smile and entrancing gaze flash to declare A TURBAN IS A HALO of sanctity - a palm slaps and smacks the elephant's sword - radiant Fair and Lovely those hands and face, cleansed and purified and dangerous, still. - Immanuel Kant, "Von der verschiedenen Racen der Menschen" ["Of the Different Human Races"] I The white is opposed to the red, while the black disappears from the picture i . I Red slaves (native-Americans) are used only for domestic work in Surinam because they are too weak to work in the fields. [Extracted from the article]

In the creative and often surprising I Bette Davis Black and White i , Julia A. Stern takes up these two films along with I Jezebel, In This Our Life i , the made-for-TV I White Mama i , and others in order to explore the way Davis's career onand offscreen indexes the possibilities and limitations of cross-racial identification. The exploratory pose of this book is most exciting when applied to Stern's imaginative readings of Davis's films and suppositions about the interaction between film role and biographical actress. Stern's accounts of Davis's films range somewhere between allegorical argument (as in the case of the wonderful chapter on I Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?. [Extracted from the article]

With the Second World War providing a straightforward distinction of "good" and "bad" and the Vietnam War being the first televised war, the Great War was quickly overthrown from the center American literature, art, and film narratives. Thus, Hinkelman hints at a new perspective of film studies: what happened to American film narratives after the transition done by First World War films? Hinkelman brings in the historical context from pre- and post-First World War United States to showcase a vital transition in the tone of American war films. [Extracted from the article]

This essay proposes to think about the theme of Africanities in education from the point of view of cinema based on Law 10.639/2003, which made teaching Afro-Brazilian history and culture mandatory in basic education. Thus, it aims to think about this didacticization from the "Epistemology of Afrocentricity" by Molefi Kete Asante and the "Pedagogy of the Oppressed" by Paulo Freire. The writing proposes a reflective and dialogic way for those who work in the formative context, using cinema as a pedagogical and cultural device. It concludes about the possibilities of cinema, as a media-educational resource, to raise questions related to Black cinema (agency, place and time -- elements of the Epistemology of Afrocentricity) as an opportunity for thematization and interrogation of issues that problematize oppressive aspects of society (especially in relation to Black people, their exploitation, oppression, invisibility and dehumanization). [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Despite the commercial success of Black Panther (Coogler 2018) and its ostensible achievement of making Hollywood more representative of black people and “their” narratives, the film is limited in terms of the progress on inclusion it can achieve. This is because, as a Hollywood superhero film, its success is predicated upon perpetuating the colonisation of the imagination of its (still largely white) spectators and it does not represent black people on their own terms. A close focus on form exposes the film as retaining the spectacular and action-orientated visual language of Hollywood that engenders cinema as fundamentally voyeuristic and imperial. In this way, a close examination of Black Panther supports the examination of limits of what the commercial structure of an industry established upon the colonial gaze of spectacle is currently able to produce. This paper goes further and also argues that decolonisation in cinema should involve a more radical confrontation of Hollywood aesthetics and the formal language of Hollywood’s gaze itself, so that the embodied visual languages of global cinema and New Black cinema may be more widely employed to reveal the world of those colonised by Hollywood as materially different, on their own terms. It is only by going beyond the success of films like Black Panther in the box office and through a radical investigation of form and haptic visuality that the considerably unequal structure of the Hollywood boardroom − which produces such films in the first place − may be transformed. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The article considers the depiction of gentrification of African American neighborhoods in several films. Topics discussed include the drawback of the verité approach to documentary filmmaking such as failure to clarify histories behind a moment, space and conflict, emergence of gentrification as iteration of Black city cinema in fictional films, and presence of ephemerality and ambivalence caused by displacement in the films "The Last Black Man in San Francisco" and "Residue."

The racial unrests permeating across Britain in the late 1970s resulted in a set of political agendas responding to racism to be brought into being though legislation, culminating in the passing of the 1976 Race Relations Act. Crucial to such agendas were strategies for the prevention of black urban uprisings against state authority and the politicisation of black youths against racism. The emergence of politicised black British film during the late 1970s offered a crucial counter-hegemonic exploration and re-enactment of an extra-filmic reality of police violence and popular racism within the British body social. However, these texts were subjected to forms of political censorship through a number of state organisations who identified radical black cinema as a political threat with the potential to incite violent responses from black youths. This article will offer a detailed analysis of Babylon (1980) and seeks to investigate the ideological processes leading to its X certification and the moral panic located in its representations of black youths within the crisis of race vis-a-vis the political, social and cultural authority of race relations, situating Babylon 's controversial X certification as an exemplar of the 'applicational dexterity' of the race relations discipline. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

An interview with Black Caucus co-chairpersons Nsenga Burton and Mark Cunningham is presented. They talk about the importance of studying, writing and teaching about African American film and media amidst the proliferation of anti-African American racism. They discuss how the COVID-19 pandemic and state-sanctioned anti-African American violence are affecting African American scholars. They cite some exciting developments about African American media development, production and access.

The article explains the significance of the 1978 film "The Wiz" by Sidney Lumet to issues of Black media production, reception and distribution. Topics discussed include the expected success of the film in light of the 23-million-dollar budget and source material adapted from a Tony Award-winning musical, effect of the division of audiences based on race on film reviews that led to the failure of the film, and role of "The Wiz" in the movement of the industry from Black-cast film production.