The Philosophical Journal of Conflict and Violence Vol. IV, Issue 2/2020 © The Authors 2020 Available online at http://trivent-publishing.eu/ Slicing Up Eyeballs: The Criminal Underworlds of Nicolas Winding Refn M. Blake Wilson Department of Criminal Justice, California State University, Stanislaus, USA Abstract: From Buñuel and Dali’s Un Chien Andalou to recent works by Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn, the cinematic destruction of the eye has become iconic due to its striking effect upon film spectators’ visceral experiences as well as its ability to influence their symbolic or fetishistic desires. By exploiting the natural discomfort and disgust produced by these types of images and then situating them within an aesthetic and psychoanalytic framework, Refn and other filmmakers provide a visual showcase for a unique type of cinematic violence, one which demands that viewers reappraise the value of their own eyes as well as the values which reflect social attitudes towards law enforcement, crime, and justice. Keywords: Eyes; Film; Film Noir; Jacques Lacan; Philosophy; Nicolas Winding Refn; Violence. DOI: 10.22618/TP.PJCV.20204.2.1763002 The PJCV Journal is published by Trivent Publishing This is an Open Access article distributed in accordance with the Creative Commons Attribution Non Commercial (CC- BY-NC-ND 4.0) license, which permits others to copy or share the article, provided original work is properly cited and that this is not done for commercial purposes. Users may not remix, transform, or build upon the material and may not distribute the modified material (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/) Slicing Up Eyeballs: The Criminal Underworlds of Nicolas Winding Refn M. Blake Wilson Department of Criminal Justice, California State University, Stanislaus, USA Abstract: From Buñuel and Dali’s Un Chien Andalou to recent works by Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn, the cinematic destruction of the eye has become iconic due to its striking effect upon film spectators’ visceral experiences as well as its ability to influence their symbolic or fetishistic desires. By exploiting the natural discomfort and disgust produced by these types of images and then situating them within an aesthetic and psychoanalytic framework, Refn and other filmmakers provide a visual showcase for a unique type of cinematic violence, one which demands that viewers reappraise the value of their own eyes as well as the values which reflect social attitudes towards law enforcement, crime, and justice. Keywords: Eyes; Film; Film Noir; Jacques Lacan; Philosophy; Nicolas Winding Refn; Violence. Introduction Like many filmmakers, Nicolas Winding Refn has repeatedly returned to the image of the compromised eye. As evidenced by the infamous Odessa Steps sequence in Sergei Eisenstein’s The Battleship Potemkin, which ends with the image of a woman’s right eye shot out through her eyeglasses, and also by the slicing of the eyeball in the prologue of Buñuel and Dali’s Un Chien Andalou, the cinematic destruction of the eye has become strikingly iconic due to its visceral effect upon the film spectator’s physical state as well as its effect upon their symbolic or fetishistic desires. The eye is, after all, necessary to be a spectator at all, and the onscreen loss of the eye creates the sympathetic loss of the audience’s status as spectators, and, more importantly, the loss of their scopophilic ability to enjoy their fetish for onscreen sex and violence. By exploiting the natural discomfort and disgust produced by these types of images and then situating them within an aesthetic and psychoanalytic framework, Refn and other filmmakers provide a visual showcase for a unique type of cinematic violence inspired by films noir and their progeny, one which demands that viewers reappraise the value of their own eyes as they utilize them to watch the destruction of the eyes onscreen. In this article, I show how the image of the lost eye also frames Refn’s poetically conflicted narratives about justice, law enforcement, and the police, narratives which are remarkably unlike other so-called ‘crime dramas’ or ‘dirty/rogue cop’ films because no other institutions or procedures of justice are depicted: we see no courtrooms, lawyers, or judges, which are all places and agents in which justice is idealized as blind, impartial, and unbiased. Working both within and without various film noir-inspired genres, Refn’s camera depicts criminal underworlds driven by justice as violence, primarily in the form of revenge, without giving any consideration to the possibility of justice or violence, which the Roman goddess Justitia promises by balancing the scales on the one hand, and enforcing justice by the sword with the other. While this ancient symbol is not mimetically static––some depiction show her M. Blake Wilson without her famous blindfold––she is, like Achilles’ Shield, universally understood to represent the idea that procedural justice should prevail over revenge. As I will argue herein, Refn’s own conception of justice tends towards a tacit tolerance of violent revenge, and discloses an ‘eye’ for justice that is just as compromised as the eyes of many of his characters (Fig. 1). Fig. 1. Nicolas Winding Refn’s eye. Directors Talk: Nicolas Winding Refn (Toby Amies, 2016). www.nowness.com/series/directors-talk/nicolas-winding-refn. Screen capture by author. Although Refn’s entire filmography is notorious for its violence, I focus upon his last five efforts: Valhalla Rising (2009), Drive (2011), Only God Forgives (2013), Neon Demon (2016) and his most recent work, the thirteen hour web television miniseries Too Old to Die Young (2019). These works fully embrace a sui generis retro-surrealist aesthetic that is first seen in 2008’s Bronson but absent from the works that precede it, including the Pusher trilogy (1996-2005), Fear X (2003), and Bleeder (1999). In Section I, Violence in Film: A Brief Metaphysics, I have three objectives: first, I try to determine what philosophy ‘wants’ from film; second, I generally explore Refn’s persistent use of violence in his films; and third, I present an argument that, from a metaphysical perspective, there is no such thing as ‘violence in film’ insofar as ‘violence in film’ is a quantifiable object of investigation and research. In Section II, Neo(n) Noir: Genre, Theory, and Practice, I deploy a detailed analysis of the introductory/title scenes from several of Refn’s films in order to show his deep debt to the traditions and aesthetics of film noir, neo-noir, and neon-noir. These scenes prove that he practices both within and without those genres but also contributes to the alternative tradition of so-called ‘critical crime’ films, which are recognizable due to their moral ambiguity, institutional skepticism, and reliance on violence. Section III, “A theme park of pain”: Violence, Revenge Tragedies, and Political Skepticism, explores the noir subject of revenge in detail, comparing how the different filmic depictions of the avenger on the one hand and the vigilante on the other suggest different kinds of skepticism about police, punishment, and political authority. I will argue that through his films Refn discloses a deep distrust of institutionalized punishment as well as a denial that criminal justice in particular can be either blind or fair. In Section IV, Eye Violence, Aesthetics, Psychoanalysis, I use the infamous eye violence scenes from Battleship Potemkin and Un Chien Andalou as the loci classicus for the construction of a selective taxonomy of films which feature violent depictions of blinding, eye-gouging, eye removal, and other eye traumas. These scenes, I argue, draw upon both the Oedipal myth as well as the homily of ‘blind justice’ described in the preceding section. I then situate the trope of eye violence within an aesthetic theory viewed through the lens of Lacanian psychoanalysis. A brief conclusion is followed by a highly selective Appendix of Eye Violence Films. 16 Slicing Up Eyeballs: The Criminal Underworlds of Nicolas Winding Refn I. Violence in Film: A Brief Metaphysics In this section, I am interested in determining how to approach film in general, and Refn’s films in particular, from a philosophical perspective. I then generally explore Refn’s persistent use of violence in his films by introducing those most relevant to this study. Finally, I explore whether or not there is such a thing as ‘violence in film’ insofar as ‘violence in film’ is a quantifiable object of investigation and research. First, a brief exposition of what, in the words of film philosopher D.N. Rodowick, philosophy wants from images such as those produced by films. “One thing that philosophy wants from images,” Rodowick writes, “is to renew itself conceptually through deep engagement with novel forms of aesthetic experience.”1 These forms present themselves to us as images and include cinematic or moving images. Discussing the analogies between Stanley Cavell’s assertion that “film is a moving image of skepticism” and Christian Metz’s account of fetishism, Rodowick writes that “Cinematographic images are certainly found to be moving, that is, as inspiring affect or emotion. But they are also unsettling; they make us ontologically quiet. If film is a moving image of skepticism, it does not so much confirm our subjectivity (as modern for example) as shake our belief that we know the basis of our conviction in reality.”2 As viewers of Refn’s films are aware, his films are characterized by excessive violence, and considerations of space prohibit a full discussion of the varieties of disembowelings, beheadings, cannibalizations, acts of necrophilia, dismemberments, executions, throat- slittings, maimings, and blindings he has shown throughout his ten feature films and Too Old to Die Young, his thirteen-hour Amazon Prime miniseries. Some take place onscreen or hors cadre (offscreen), some might be justified as self-defense from a legal perspective, and many are the product of revenge-seeking on behalf of their perpetrators.