1. Enga Ooru Kavalkaran [Our village watchman], directed by T. P. Gajendran
(Madras: Meenakshi Arts, 1988).
2. Benjamin, “The Work of Art in the Age of Its Technological Reproducibility,” 114.
3. Reported by “Kerry,” in Bull, Sound Moves, 46.
4. See the discussion of “Julieta” in Han, Life in Debt, 150–66.
5. Neal Gabler, “This Time, the Scene Was Real,” New York Times, September 16,
6. Gold and Gold, “The ‘Truman Show’ Delusion.”
7. The Truman Show, directed by Peter Weir (New York: Scott Rudin Productions,
8. As Elsaesser and Hagener observe, “The cinema seems poised to leave behind
its function as a ‘medium’ (for the representation of reality) in order to become a ‘life
form’ (and thus a reality in its own right)” (Film Theory, 12).
9. Sobchack, The Address of the Eye, 133. As with Sobchack’s foundational work, this
book attempts to engage the material and embodied experience of cinema. What fol-
lows here parts company with her approach, however, in the nature of our respective
engagements with that experience. The Address of the Eye takes film as “an animate,
conscious ‘other’ who visually, audibly, and kinetically intends toward the world or
toward its own conscious activity in a structure of embodied engagement with the
world and others that is similar in structure to our own” (285). I pay closer attention
to forces, flows, and relations that undo the subjective integrity of film spectators
and confound such attempts to put forward a parallel integrity of film as subject. The
Address of the Eye also relies upon an understanding of “the filmmaker” as “the con-
crete, situated, and synoptic presence of the many persons who realized the film as
concretely visible for vision” (9). My endeavor unfolds through the manifold fields
of experience in which filmmakers both find and lose themselves, complicating once
again the coherence of this figure and “its” experience. For a useful survey of various
strands of “phenomenological” approaches to film, see del Rio, “Film.”
10. Deleuze, Cinema 1, 59.
11. Although, in what follows, I write at times of “a” or “the” world, and at other
times instead of “worlds,” I seek throughout to grapple with the ways that media such
as cinema transform and multiply what is real. As Nelson Goodman observes in Ways
of Worldmaking, “the so- called possible worlds of fiction lie within actual worlds. Fic-
tion operates in actual worlds in much the same way as nonfiction. Cervantes and
Bosch and Goya, no less than Boswell and Newton and Darwin, take and unmake and
remake and retake familiar worlds, recasting them in remarkable and sometimes re-
condite but eventually recognizable—that is re- cognizable—ways” (105).
12. Connolly, A World of Becoming, 70.
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