Derrida

"Derrida" dogs philosopher Jaques Derrida from boudoir to lectern and shows him being filmed and people filming him and him refusing to say anything personal while making the usual vague and ambiguous excursions in philosophical thought which one tends to expect of thinkers (or so they think) while never delivering anything of substance. We get to see Derrida butter his English muffin but we don't get to see him deconstruct deconstructionism because, of course, that's not possible. Bottom line: This documentary tries with synth music, voice-overs, translations, interviews, etc. but doesn't really sink its teeth into what appears to be a self-affected man who expects it is better to be thought an enigma than to open one's mouth and prove no enigma exists. Does the future have a future? If you really care, you might want to spend time with this film. Otherwise, just agree that it does and find something interesting to watch. (C)

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.

A documentary can never be anything other than a director's interpretation of the subject. Making a documentary about a philosopher is a particularly difficult proposition; with most other subjects, we welcome and enjoy varying interpretations, but, with philosophy, we tend to resist variance, because the very aim of philosophy, at least until Post-Structuralists came along, has always been to arrive at the Truth. The challenge of a filmmaker here is that either you properly understand the philosopher, or you may potentially embarrass yourself, though, for the audience, either way could be interesting.

"Derrida", a documentary by the established filmmaker, Kirby Dick, and a former student of Jacques Derrida, Amy Ziering Kofman, attempts to deconstruct the idea of biography itself, but it fails to do so. It takes only the trappings of deconstruction, stripped of its objectives, and applies it as an editorial gimmick by constantly reminding the audience of the film's own awareness of itself. It frequently steps back in an effort to show its self-awareness, but it actually deconstructs nothing. For example, we see Derrida watching himself being interviewed, and later we see him watching this very footage, thereby creating the effect of two facing mirrors with infinite reflections.

The objective of deconstruction is to de-center, that is, to identify the center of the argument--or of the proposed truth--that it relies on in order to make its case. You may argue here that I have just made a logocentric statement by defining what deconstruction is, that I have just centered the definition of deconstruction (note the appearance here of stepping back); you are right (and I'm leaving it at that, because I'm only a hack philosopher.). The film did not succeed in de-centering anything; not the philosopher, the medium, the filmmakers themselves, nor the film itself.

Throughout the film, the narrator reads excerpts from his books against the backdrop of abstract footage of Derrida's face and his surroundings. This effectively makes Derrida the chief story-teller of the film. Instead of presenting the filmmakers' interpretations, they hide behind the power of his words, taking no chances at misinterpretation. Derrida is involuntarily made to be the center that secures and stabilizes the film. Ironically, this film that supposedly tries to explore deconstructionism and apply its tools to the medium of filmmaking finds a secure center in Derrida, and he is left un-deconstructed.

We can feel the insecurity of the filmmakers in often not knowing what to ask their subject. Derrida, out of his affection for the filmmaker, tries hard to turn Kofman's dull questions into something more interesting. The camera, in effect, takes on the perspective of someone who adores him like a rock star. If the film were aware of its own insecurity, it would have been more interesting. Instead, it simply hides behind its own reverence and awe of the famous philosopher.

One way to achieve this deconstruction would have been to hire multiple filmmaking crews where each goes off in its own direction, and presents a 20 minute piece each. The chances are, each will draw a very different picture of Derrida. By presenting them in sequence, the audience will wonder who Derrida really is, and they will inevitably question the process of documentary filmmaking itself, thereby deconstructing not only the idea of Derrida, but also the idea of documentary.

Although I have always been an admirer of Ryuichi Sakamoto, his music in this movie was superfluous. The power of his music attached unnecessary, and often inappropriate, emotional values to the images of Derrida. I can't see any justification for emotionally manipulating the audience in this film, unless it was to deconstruct the use of music in film, which it did not.

Towards the end of the movie, Derrida tells Amy Ziering Kofman that this will be a good autobiography for her. It should have been, but unfortunately it isn't a biography for either Derrida or Kofman. What this movie is to Derrida's philosophy is analogous to what music video is to a piece of music; the imagery is only superficially juxtaposed to his ideas. It is no more than a pretty way to listen to his words.

One redeeming quality of this movie was that I got to see and hear him speak for the first time. After all, I'm a sucker for fame too. If I made a documentary about him, I'm sure I would have been just as nervous and insecure, if not more. In that sense, I have to praise the filmmakers for attempting.

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.

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.