Derrida

The man has three ideas: the world is art and is largely a social construction; we are built to deconstruct; when we do so, we must use only our body in admiration because that is all we have. All the rest from him is packing material.

I believe only the first of these, and that not quite in the way that is burdened by his fatalistic dogma. He allows less room for the power of the artist, the constructive dialogue between artist and viewer and the nature/urge of the medium to have its own being apart from the world.

He's a strange phenomenon, a philosopher who deliberately appeals to the ordinary public: philosophy for nonphilosphers. I wonder whether such a thing can exist. Is it more like math and science or art? Art is the notion of internal forces (passion, ideas) formed for consumption. There's the attempt to cross worlds, usually from something deep and unreachable to something that masses can get.

Math differs, and phlosophy probably as well. I know a rather famous popularizer of mathematical ideas, but it seems to be that the very best he can do is impart the wonder that awaits someone who learns the secret codes. I have another friend who writes an extremely successful history book for 5th graders. She reduces history to succinct stories centered on people. I believe that this can never reveal the real lessons, which have to do with forces and urges, complicated stuff to model. Its very hard and pretending it isn't only pulls people further away from ideas.

I see Derrida this way. He's found something that vaguely smells of philosophy, that remotely indicates the promise of a worldview — but that is instead a storytelling framework. He's the sort of person you'd want at a few of your parties, but it seems to me his stories have constraints on how useful they can be, and especially when used as he does: to make stories about stories.

I further suppose that the accident of his popularity was made possible by the need for such metastories and the way that need was filled by writers on French film who later made some film essays.

So it is with some curiosity that I approached this. Its a grand opportunity: to see a story about a presentation made by a man of himself maintaining a framework for stories about other stories. Since each of the 7 levels there are all rooted in film, we might have had an amazing film experience, one that shows and breaks, that uses and transcends, that explores and demolishes.

There is no better expression of limits of ideas than the ideas expressed.

But no. I do believe the filmmakers had something clever in mind. But what they did was center on the self. They accepted his intent without a critical eye. So we get a specific sort — a unique sort — of contemporary French vacuous meditation. Its not even interesting to react against.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.

this isn't going to be a "deconstruction" of the dick/ziering film entitled "derrida." i wouldn't be qualified to offer one, so i won't even make an attempt. this is merely a random assemblage of my thoughts regarding the filmtext................ derrida was one of the most powerful, iconoclastic philosophers of all time. deconstruction is essentially about the DELEGITIMATION of texts, i.e., the process of exposing their LACK of relevance and truth value. hence, a deconstruction of the bible would "prove" this text to be of LIMITED truth value or relevance. (take THAT Christians!) if we are to evaluate philosophies, perhaps we should judge them on the basis of what they are capable of deconstructing. in which case deconstrution would prove to be the most powerful philosophy, since it is capable of deconstructing just about anything................ that said, "derrida" does not portray the philosopher of deconstruction as an iconoclast. it doesn't envisage derrida as one of the (Christian, Jew, and Moslem-eating) "lions" of postmodern thought. instead, it presents him as a toothless, aging, declawed, castrated feline mewing by the fireside. a complacent member of the bourgeoisie enjoying his petty privileges. if you watch this film, you might get the idea that deconstruction is a cute, "homey" kind of philosophy designed to reassure the middle classes................

I've never written a review on this site, mostly because I find that most reviews are fair and well-meaning that, for the most part, aim to get at the root of the film itself. However, I was compelled to write something about "Derrida," because, for whatever reason, reviewers of the film have largely ignored the filmmakers' intent and, even worse, in some cases, used their review as a platform to air pent-up grievances about this celebrated thinker.

Simply put, "Derrida" is a wonder: a disarming, captivating film that alchemizes a seemingly un-filmable subject--the daily life, travels, and thoughts of a brilliant philosopher--into a convincing, wholly cinematic portrait.

As the above reviewers suggest, this is no bio-pic. There is no omniscient, James Earl Jones voiceover here. The film doesn't attempt to teach deconstruction, nor does it offer any Ken Burns-like, definitive world view. Instead, co-directors Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering Kofman follow the trail blazed by Frederick Wiseman and the Maysles Brothers--cinema verite pioneers who recognized that voiceover, forced narrative arcs, and easy psychological explanations of character often distort and dilute the truth of a person or event. As the Maysles brothers did in "Salesman" and "Grey Gardens," among other films, Dick and Kofman spent years with their subject, slowly gaining the trust of this notoriously camera-shy man, following him without a narrow agenda, and open to whatever occurred in front of them. In the process, Dick and Kofman successfully capture unguarded moments and unexpected events--including quiet breakfasts, intimate conversations about his family, and revelatory interviews -which, ultimately, challenge our preconceptions of Derrida, while deepening our fascination with his mind and life.

Years from now, when Derrida has left us, it will be easy to present a Crossfire-like discussion on the merits and value of his thinking. If inclined, one could even dredge up shady details of his past. However, I would strongly argue that nobody will able to provide the kind of illumination that "Derrida" offers--an unfiltered and tantalizing look at one of the most creative and influential minds of today.

An eye opener into the wonderful world of Mr Jacques Derrida Post structuralist extraordinaire. No this is really just a grim look at a man who continues to plug his pseudo philosophic nonsense to undergraduate students and a pretentious post modernist/ post structuralist crowd.

In the film , the interviews are at times cringe worthy as he states the bloody obvious in the most complex and masturbatory way. The camera crew, directors etc lap it up following him as if he is some kind of messiah, with the answers to the universe and all human secrets hidden under his bob of bright white hair.

It really is boring, we are often presented with Monsieur Derrida doing everyday, ordinary things, such as eating toast and listening to the radio. What point does showing this have other than to say yes the 'genius' does actually do normal things in-between spouting nonsense.

The voice over narration was also a load of rubbish,trying to be poetic but highly pretentious and irritating.

The only slightly touching moment was when he discarded his nonsense talking to reveal his experiences of anti semitic abuse as a school- boy in Algeria.

On the whole a pretty dire film, Derrida had no humor or wit to him, he just seemed to be stuck in a drab world, still holding onto the theories of deconstruction that made his name decades ago.

Watch some paint dry instead.

This could have been a real disaster, and even though the movie triggered a couple of cringes, it wasn't the expected trainwreck. "Derrida" was not too much of a waste. Thinking is a very difficult subject for a documentary. When filmmakers decide they want to present a great thinker, they are presented with a difficult decision: should they make a straightforward documentary concerned only with transmitting knowledge, or should they use the form to reflect the content of the thinker's work? Is accessiblity the goal of a documentary? And how much can we dilute for accessiblity's sake? I think this is one of the few cases where striking a balance between a dichotomy doesn't work. In "Derrida" the directors were trying to experiment with form and create a new audience for Derrida's work. They wanted to document Derrida's thinking. They wanted to archive the man's presense and present Derrida to a new audience. However, they felt that using the standard documentary/biography format would make Derrida's work superficially accessible. They didn't want to commit such an insult. Yet, they were not willing to alienate the audience. Thus, "Derrida" only registers as a lukewarm essay. The directors took an approach that is sold on today's market as "Self-reflexivity, the dummy's guide to artsy." "Derrida" is a series of vignettes where Derrida explains his relationship to the camera and the process by which his presence is recorded. It is a total exercise in metadiscourse, and unfortunately, this theme provides plenty of stupid irritating gimmicks with which "Derrida" proves not your standard documentary but your undergraduate film school festival The rewarding aspects of this film are not the formal experiments or anything relating to the fact that Derrida is presented as a moving image, but rather watching Derrida speak about the camera, the archive or the image. There are some excellent shots of Derrida at work. We witness his careful footwork in the field of discourse, and the director chooses the very potent passages to outline Derrida's duties as performer for no one and the role of the filmmaker in using Derrida's words to present her story. However, the director tells no story. The film offers very little beyond problematizing the roles of the actors in this production of "Derrida." And, I think what was presented would be best preserved in an essay than the series of vignettes called "Derrida."