Shoot the Dead: Horror Cinema, Documentary and Gothic Realism Kristopher Karl Woofter A Thesis In the Department of Film and Moving Image Studies Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy (Film and Moving Image Studies) at Concordia University Montréal, Québec, Canada September, 2016 © Kristopher Karl Woofter CONCORDIA UNIVERSITY School of Graduate Studies This is to certify that the dissertation prepared By: Kristopher Karl Woofter Entitled: Shoot the Dead: Horror Cinema, Documentary and Gothic Realism and submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Film and Moving Image Studies complies with the regulations of the university and meets the accepted standards with respect to originality and quality . Signed by the final Examining Committee: Ned Schantz External Examiner External Examiner’s name Nicola Nixon External Examiner External Examiner’s name Catherine Russell Examiner Examiner’s name Rosanna Maule Supervisor Supervisor’s name Marc Steinberg Supervisor Supervisor’s name Approved by Martin Lefebvre Chair of Department or Graduate Program Director 30 September, 2016 Rebecca Duclos Dean of Faculty iii Abstract This dissertation traces a “gothic-realist” genealogy in cinema that will help scholars to reconsider a whole series of horror and documentary films in the modern and postmodern periods and offers new possibilities to theorize the horror film. I explore “Gothic realism” in three paradigmatic forms. I first discuss its entry into 1940s fiction films that blend Gothic-horror’s focus on individual and collective psychic trauma as a way of interrogating a troubled wartime and postwar reality (Chapter I). Second, I discuss avant-garde and pseudo-documentaries that adopt strategies of Gothic-horror to evoke unreadable subjects and/or undetected realities— products of a productive skepticism around American environmental, social and national stability from the 1970s, through the millennial period, and into the 21st century (Chapter II). And, third, I examine mockumentary and fake found-footage horror cinema that turns to strategies of documentary and factual discourse to express a generalized millennial and 21st-century archival anxiety around human interaction with recording technologies (Chapter III). These three manifestations of Gothic realism, I argue, adopt the mood, themes, and rhetorical strategies of horror and documentary to form a critical discourse that troubles the real—focusing spectatorial attention on the limits of representation, and the inability of representations to tell us what we want to know, and feel, about our reality. This thesis explores Gothic realism as a critical disruption of the generic categories of documentary, avant-garde, and horror cinema, opening up possibilities to investigate the relationship between what might be called the “sensorial epistemologies” shared by all three forms. Gothic realism holds these sensorial epistemologies in liminal sway, an interaction that may best be investigated through the lens of Michel Foucault’s notion of the “apparatus” (dispositif)—here, a conceptual site of critical intersections that work to defamiliarize the everyday, challenging our normal avenues for understanding the world through appeals to ambiguity of meaning, multiplicity of perspective, overdetermination of possibility, elusiveness of subject or event, and emphasis on spectacle and sensation. I focus on films that are exemplary of both a popular, highly visible cinema (e.g., Citizen Kane [1940], Capturing the Friedmans [2003], Unfriended [2015]), and of a more subversive, independent, B-movie tradition (Bluebeard [1944], The Hellstrom Chronicle [1971], Lake Mungo [2008]). Regardless of their production contexts, or status as “highbrow” or “lowbrow” cultural products, the films that I discuss deploy Gothic horror as a mode of inquiry into a reality that resists conceptual tracing and iv positivistic strategies. In doing so, they disrupt the comfortable categories of documentary, horror and avant-garde, opening up possibilities to investigate the relationship between the sensorial epistemologies shared by the three forms. This study concludes that Gothic horror in fiction and nonfiction cinema becomes a mode of engagement with reality that operates as a critical discourse on mediation and sensation—on the real as always-already unreadable, overwhelming, uncapturable. v Acknowledgments This study has many supporters. Heartfelt thanks and love are due to the community I have been lucky enough to be a part of, and without whom there would be no reason to write these acknowledgments: To my partner, Cory Legassic, for being my closest confidant, for offering emotional and intellectual support, and for literally picking me up off of the floor (or kneeling with me on it) numerous times throughout this eight-year process. To Mario DeGiglio- Bellemare, my horror soul mate, best friend, and collaborator, whose intellectual guidance was exceeded only by his incredible ability to rejuvenate my interest in my work at key periods. To Karen Herland, whose research ethic and thoroughness is a model for my own, and who may not realize the extent to which I admire the work she produces as a result of that ethic. To my parents, Timothy and Joni Woofter, whose unceasing emotional and financial support gave me the gift of time and thought that made this work possible. To my brother, Aaron Woofter, for always making me feel as though I have way more authority than I do on the things I think about. To Anne Golden, whose work on avant-garde cinema and 1940s horror inspired me to pursue connections between the avant-garde and genre cinema across the 20th century, and whose recently published novel is a love letter to everyone who makes, watches, or studies politicized cinema. To Jenna Bates, for over 30 years of friendship, for being my first co-author, and for actively showing me that writing a bazillion pages is within my capabilities. To Papagena Robbins, for collaborating with me on the gothumentary concept that gave birth to chapter II, and my first peer-reviewed publication. To Carl Sederholm, a good friend, unconditional supporter, and model scholar. And to Jasie Stokes, for being a great collaborator and friend. My co-supervisors, Rosanna Maule and Marc Steinberg, stepped in to guide me through this major undertaking after I had already begun my studies. They were supportive, respectful, responsive, and incredibly generous with their time and comments; and their enthusiasm gave me much-needed confidence throughout the process. I also thank Catherine Russell for substantial guidance in shaping my work, and Nicola Nixon and Ned Shantz for their time and generosity. Along the way, other key factors were a significant part of this horror quest. Catherine Russell’s course on “Archiveology” initiated the work that I did on chapter III. Without the ideas raised in her course, the concept of “archival anxiety” would not have occurred to me regarding recent fake found-footage and mockumentary horror cinema. Portions of the research and writing vi for this dissertation appeared as lectures at the Miskatonic Institute of Horror Studies and have benefitted significantly from the opportunity to receive feedback in discussions with a group of like-minded scholars and fan-scholars. Likewise, the Horror Area of the Popular Culture / American Culture Associations (PCA/ACA) National Conferences over the past ten years has provided the opportunity to explore much of my research with an academic audience that could offer supportive feedback. I would also like to thank: Greg Polakoff, Jean Coleno, Carl Soucier-Bouffard, and Julian Nemeth, all of whom co-taught courses with me where I tested ideas, texts, films, and theories to see if where I was going made sense. Martin Lefebvre, for not just supporting but championing the students in his care. Tanya Cochran, Rhonda Wilcox, and the members of the Whedon Studies Association for their encouragement, guidance, and love. Alyson Grant and Louise Slater, who, as chairs of the English department at Dawson College were enthusiastic supporters of my PhD studies and research. My Dawson College students, for their insights, and for dealing with a sometimes-distracted professor. Annaëlle Winand, another archive-o-phile, with whom I hope to do future work. Lynn Bowser, for nurturing my dark side. My first-grade teacher, Mrs. Hendricks, who, when she found out I was double-majoring in cinema and English at the undergraduate level, told me: “Stick to English.” Marion and Richard at Le Petit Clou cottage, by the Rivière Rouge north of Tremblant, Québec, where much of this dissertation was written. Paul Mercer, whose albums, Silents and Ghosts, and whose music for the films Menilmontant, Psychopathia Sexualis, and The Hands of Orlac, became the soundtrack of my thinking. And, finally, Leila Amro, Dr. Susan Bates, Ralph Beliveau, Glennis Byron, Wheeler Winston Dixon, Will Dodson, Edinburgh, Gwendolyn Audrey Foster, Erin Giannini, Nick Halavrezos, Jim Iaccino, Mark Jancovich, Kier-La Janisse, Keto, Gretchen and Steve Laliberte, Rodrigo Diaz Llamas, Jerry Metz, Nathanaël Occénad, Marc Olivier, Jason Perdue, Robert Persons, Pontus, Gary Rhodes, Francesca Saggini, Ali Sauer, David Servos, Philip Simpson, Luc Tremblay, Haidee Wasson, Tom Waugh, Akemi and Tom Woofter, Grace and Stanley Woofter, Rick Worland, Yvonne and John Yoblonski, and Carole Zucker. I would like to express sincere appreciation