Genres Class at Delta this Fall Semester

This Fall I’m teaching one of my all-time favorite classes here at Delta, EMB 175, Genres in Film History. We look at seven major types of films and ask ourselves how we know when a film is a Film Noir or what makes a Western a Western.  

The class meets each Monday from nine to noon, and in two-week blocks, we focus on different genres. The first week, we watch a classic, traditional western, horror, sci fi, or comedy. Then on the following week, we watch a more contemporary, often revisionist version of that same genre. So we might watch the 1931 version of Dracula one week and then watch 2014’s vampire mockumentary What We Do In The Shadows the next.  Fritz Lang’s silent sci fi masterpiece Metropolis from 1927 and then Alex Garland’s challenging female robot mind trip Ex Machina from 2014.  What’s interesting about genre is how their variations often reveal our country’s mood and outlook. The kind of westerns being made or if they’re being made at all often tells us something about the mood of the United States. Comparing and contrasting movies from the same genre but from different time periods often leads to really interesting conversations.

Genre, of course, is a French word for “type” or “kind,” and it’s one way we categorize film. We know that a western is different than a horror movie because there are certain expectations of each kind of film. Those expectations are called conventions. For instance, Westerns usually take place in the American west, often during the 19^th century. There are cowboy hats and horses, six shooters, and saloons. They often address the conflict between wilderness and civilization, the needs of the lone hero individual versus the needs of the community. There are all kinds of both physical and conceptual elements that help us to identify a film as a Western, but even within that genre, there’s tremendous variety in theme and approach.

There’s no more American genre than the Western. They are our national origin stories, the myths we tell that help explain who we are and how we got where we are.

In John Ford’s Stagecoach from 1939, a group of disparate strangers travels together across dangerous territory in hopes of reaching safe haven at the end of the road. In Kelly Reichardt’s 2010 film, Meek’s Cutoff, there’s also a group of varied individuals trying to make their way across western wilderness in hopes of finding safety in their destination. But the two films couldn’t be more different. Stagecoach, while wonderful, is simpler and more direct. The macho male hero conquers the Indians, kills the bad guys, and gets the girl. A white, masculine point of view prevails. I mean, it was made in 1939 after all. Meek’s Cutoff, on the other hand, practically wallows in its ambiguity. A group of pioneers headed for Oregon gets lost and wanders for weeks as food and water grow scarce. The film subtly examines the power dynamics between the sexes as the women in the group begin to question whether or not the men know where they’re going. Instead of encountering a horde of stampeding Apache, the group captures a lone Cayuse Indian who doesn’t speak English and isn’t particularly interested in helping his captors. Thematically, it’s a much more complicated film than Stagecoach and suggests that the point of view of the white, male conqueror isn’t the only one worth considering.

If talking about differences like that interests you, you should sign up for the class. There’s still room, and you don’t have to be any kind of movie expert to take it. It’s welcoming place for anyone who enjoys watching films and has ideas about what they mean and why they’re important. I can think of a lot worse ways to spend part of your Fall semester than watching great movies and talking about them.