The year 1968 often looms as a question, a moment of perceived failure or triumphant revolution, an event whose significance seems perpetually debated. Yet, to frame it with such a definitive inquiry is to misunderstand its very nature. The true essence of 1968 defies a singular, conclusive narrative, for its events, its profound meanings, and its far-reaching consequences refuse to coalesce into a coherent story. Instead, 1968 emerges as a vibrant culmination, a nexus where an array of disparate cultural, social, and political phenomena converged and intersected.
Within this tumultuous confluence, cinema emerges as an unparalleled kaleidoscope. It offers a unique lens through which to perceive the deep-seated fractures and bewildering contradictions that defined that pivotal year. Rather than seeking a unified thread, one discovers a tapestry woven from countless, often conflicting, strands. The films of 1968, both the celebrated and the long-forgotten, become vessels for understanding a period marked by radical shifts and emergent sensibilities.
At the heart of this exploration lies the understanding that 1968 was a crucible for new forms of cultural community. Through an incisive analysis of happenings, avant-garde actions, and the films of the era, one can trace the birth of a transnational taste community - the nascent, yet powerful, force of Western pop and youth culture. This was a moment when established boundaries began to dissolve, paving the way for fresh expressions and shared experiences that transcended national borders.
Indeed, the radical cultural transformation of 1968 reveals itself only through its inherent heterogeneity. The very logic of the "happening" and the embrace of contradiction become the poetic matrix for the cinema of this period. Films did not merely reflect the era; they embodied its fragmented, experimental, and often confrontational spirit. They moved beyond conventional storytelling, mirroring the societal ferment in their very structure and aesthetic.
This perspective intentionally sidesteps the grand, overarching narratives of either triumph or failure, choosing instead a more nuanced, heterogeneous view of 1968. One does not exclusively dwell on the works of acclaimed masters like Bergman, Truffaut, or Pasolini, though their influence is undeniable. Instead, the cinematic landscape broadens to encompass a diverse array of productions, from Polanski's unsettling "Rosemary's Baby" to Kluge's introspective "Die Artisten in der Zirkuskuppel: ratlos," and even the lesser-known, yet equally telling, works of Rudolf Zehetgruber.
Consider Jean-Luc Godard's "One Plus One" from 1968, a prime example of this cinematic ethos. The film unfolds as a collage of intensely heterogeneous elements: snatches of music, spontaneous happenings, impassioned political pamphlets, glimpses of pornography, and fragments of crime narratives. There is no singular narrative or ideological logic dictating the montage of images and sounds. No sum is drawn, no clear instruction given on how the disparate parts relate or how they should be judged.
In this light, 1968 manifests as a culmination point where profoundly diverse cultural, social, and political phenomena enter into interaction. These phenomena, far from being causally linked, behave instead like chemical substances, brought together in a moment of mixing, poised to ignite an explosion of new forms and ideas. The cinema of 1968, therefore, is not merely a record of a turbulent year, but an active participant in its complex, multifaceted unfolding.
