Althusser is trying to work out the concept of reproduction, and how people accept the dominant order of the culture and society they live in. Much of what Althusser develops here, is later expanded by people such as Raymond Williams and Pierre Bourdieu. Reproduction, for Althusser as for Marx, is the necessary condition of production to take place. As Althusser states

To put this more scientifically, I shall say that the reproduction of labour power requires not only a reproduction of its skills, but also, at the same time, a reproduction of its submission to the rules of the established order, i.e. a reproduction of submission to the ruling ideology for the workers, and a reproduction of the ability to manipulate the ruling ideology correctly for the agents of exploitation and repression, so that they, too, will provide for the domination of the ruling class ‘in words’.

In other words, it is necessary to submit to the ruling ideology in order to be a “good worker”, and necessary to manipulate the ruling ideology in order to be a “good capitalist”. Ideology is for Althusser intimately tied up with skills and know-how, and he goes on to argue that it is not possible to learn one without the other:

I believe that the Ideological State Apparatus which has been installed in the dominant position in mature capitalist social formations as a result of a violent political and ideological class struggle against the old dominant Ideological State Apparatus, is the educational ideological apparatus.

Subjection – being subjected to (and a subject to) dominant ideology – is part of the educational system, which forms one example of what Althusser terms Ideological State Apparatus (ISA). The ISA is part of the State Apparatus, but does not function like the typical Repressive State Apparatus – ie. violence from police or military – but functions through ideology first, and violence later. In the case of the educational system, punishments only arrive if one does not follow the rules, but it is far more insidious in the way it encourages proper behavior by awarding good grades for those who follow the rules.

ISAs thus work mostly invisibly throughout society, and their work is done by ideolog, which is to say a particular way of addressing persons. Althusser begins by defining ideology in conjunction with Marx: “ideology is the system of the ideas and representations which dominate the mind of a man or a social group.” However, Althusser moves on from this definition to a much more complex, and much more interesting.

First of all, Althusser does away with the notion that ideology is located in society merely as a set of ideas. What makes ideology so pervasive, is the fact that it is material. He reverses the typical notion of saying that ideology leads to ritual practices, and instead argues that it is in fact the ritual practices which create and embody ideology in material actions:

I shall therefore say that, where only a single subject (such and such an individual) is concerned, the existence of the ideas of his belief is material in that his ideas are his material actions inserted into material practices governed by material rituals which are themselves defined by the material ideological apparatus from which derive the ideas of that subject.

It is here that interpellation emerges, from the way the individual is made into a subject by ideology:

all ideology hails or interpellates concrete individuals as concrete subjects, by the functioning of the category of the subject. This is a proposition which entails that we distinguish for the moment between concrete individuals on the one hand and concrete subjects on the other, although at this level concrete subjects only exist insofar as they are supported by a concrete individual. I shall then suggest that ideology ‘acts’ or ‘functions’ in such a way that it ‘recruits’ subjects among the individuals (it recruits them all), or ‘transforms’ the individuals into subjects (it transforms them all) by that very precise operation which I have called interpellation

Interpellation of the subject is thus exactly ideology, which is also what prompts Althusser to say that there is no outside to ideology, and at the same time there is no outside ideology.

What is sometimes misunderstood about Althusser, is the notion that there is no escape from the interpellation of ideology and the subject position offered. This is not exactly true, as Althusser states that when we act according to ideology and performs the material actions required of us, we are ‘good subjects’. However, it is possible to be a ‘bad subject’ which is of course to not perform ideology. They require the intervention of one of the detachments of the (Repressive) State Apparatus; military, police, etc.

While this seems to me obviously true, it also seems that this is one place where the ISA can take action just as much as the RSA. While the police will stop bad subjects who protest against capitalist ideology, such as in the WTO ‘riots’, there are plenty of cases where the ISA simply functions as ideological repression, such as generating the beliefs that sex before marriage is a sin, or that people with tattoos are criminals or whatever might be considered strictly legal but not within ruling ideology. Because of this, I will investigate the case of bad subjects in further posts.

The film opens with a quote: “A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within.” by Ariel Durant. The tone for apocalypse is set, and the film does indeed feel very much like the prelude to disaster – something the end drives home in an unexpected turn. However, there is something more significant going on in the film, which seems strangely familiar. A mighty civilization fears destruction by an unknown and uncontrollable plague, causing it to conquer neighboring people to sacrifice them to appease the gods. If they resist, they must be forced and if they kill in self-defence, here is no limit to vengeance – noy even the death of one’s own people.

Has Mel Gibson suddenly turned a critical eye toward US culture and society, the war against terror and the fear of outside enemies?

In many ways, the film’s focus lies elsewhere and succeeds elsewhere. We follow a small tribe of Mayans who are suddenly invaded by others from a strange city of stone. This first contact between these two cultures and their differences works well, the strangeness of the Mayan kingdom is emphasized as we see it through the eyes of the newcomers. The cruelty and incomprehensibility of their actions is well staged, the use of slow-motion renders the mask-wearing priests utterly alien.

However, the problem of the film is its deep fascination with the apocalyptic mood and atmosphere created in the city of stone. Decadent people line the streets, human sacrifices are received with cries of jubiliation. It is the decline of this kingdom and the consequences which is the drive of the film. The escape of Jaguar Paw and his subsequent chase only shows the madness and irrationality of the Mayans, but none of the characters are ever developed to the point where their actions take on any deeper meaning. We cannot relate to their actions, just as we cannot relate to the characters themselves.

Jaguar Paw is obviously the protagonist, and the hero in the sense that he attempts to save his pregnant wife and child, and we understand his desperation to return and help them. But he never becomes more than a cliché – a stereotype. Certainly he never becomes a rebel or revolutionary, never becomes a symbol of resistance against injustice. In the end, there is no civilization critique, only apocalyptic dread.

The ending, when the Spanish arrive, is unexpected as it has no direct relation to the plot as such, only to the quote at the begining. We now understand that the civilisation to be destroyed is the Mayan one (which we knew already), not just the homely and pleasant village we saw at the beginning.

However, there is a peculiar double-bind where the interesting reversal of revealing the Spanish as invaders, aggressors and imperialists through the eyes of the Mayans (which is never followed-through, even), ends up suggesting that it really didn’t matter that the Spanish invaded the Americas – they were doomed anyway.

The film lives as a spectacle, is a spectacle in that it is the visual style which is the most impressive and the most significant about the film. It is also its emphasis on spectacle which robs the film of any oppositional intent or effect. Apocalypto is a conservative – and conservationist – film which safely relegates history to the past, and empties it of meaning by turning it into a spectacle.

The Bond films have always been part adaptation of the novels, part cultural reflection. Connery’s dangerously masculine, yet suave Bond, Moore’s foppish and clownish Bond, Dalton’s too grim and determined Bond, and Brosnan’s worldly and resolute Bond. (Since I haven’t seen In Her Majesty’s Secret Service, I won’t comment on Lazenby.) It is interesting that the brutality and mercilessness of the novels never entered the films until fifty years later, at a point where many other films have utilized similar brutality – Quentin Tarantino for one, who was even mentioned as potential director for Casino Royale at one point.

Craig’s Bond is tragic and brutal, but he is also given more material to work with in his presentation of Bond. The discussions between him and Vesper provide a rare insight into Bond’s mentality and the price and consequence of his job and life – always inseparable for Bond. Providing Bond with a psychology did briefly surface in the last of the Brosnan films Die Another Day, but it is first here that we see the full Bond. Not that Bond is fully developed, but we do get an idea of the sacrifices he has to make.

Stylistically, the film breaks away from earlier Bond films with tighter framing, jilted editing which creates a frantic pace in the first half of the film, a counterpoint to the poker tournament and the denoument of the second half of the film. Mainly, this works well but there is a pacing problem once Bond has won the tournament, since the film constantly seems to be on the verge of ending, yet continues.

However, what is most interesting about the film, to me, is not so much the stylistic reinvigoration (although it is very successful and much needed), but rather the representation of international politics in the secret agent world. Since 24 (a show I’ve never been able to get into, I find it much too self-important), stories of agents and their necessary actions have become more common, and Casino Royale takes place within that frame. For an interesting point of view on 24, see Slavoj Zizek’s comments in The Guardian. This new Bond film responds in a different way.

1. Actions Have Consequences
First off, while Bauer suffers consequences from his job, it is in a different way than Bond in Casino Royale. Bond is shown to be on the way to becoming a shell of a man, empty of emotions and unable to forge meaningful relationships with other people. This is even demanded by M, that Bond shuts off his emotions in order to be a proper agent.

Bond does this, but we see the consequences of his choice, and for the first time really in Bond films, his unpleasant actions are seen as just that: unpleasant. Vesper serves as a counterpoint to Bond’s resolute killings, when she breaks down after Bond kills two men. The tragic moment is emphasized by the film, rather than ignored, which means that we realize the darker side to Bond – he is a killer and that makes him less human. The film denies the possibility that people can kill for a cause they believe is just and not suffer. No matter what, actions have consequences and a moral and ethical dimension.

2. International Politics are Brutal
This may seem rather inane and obvious, but it really isn’t. Most secret agent films glorify much of the violence and action within the film, specifically by leaving many of the consequences out, thus tying these two points together.

The scene where Bond is tortured is far more brutal – both conceptually and visually – than any previous Bond film, and it is not alone in this. We see Vesper drown, from panic to actual death and no excuses are made for all these events – they are portrayed as necessary, part of the game, even fascinating in their brutality. But the situations are also relentless and insistent, moving from pure fascination to a kind of dreadful spectacle that we cannot turn away from. The unapologetic tone, offering us no real escape from the brutality, confirms the ruthless environment and places these events as the consequences of anti-terrorism.

The film never says that these consequences are undesireable, just that they are unpleasant. Here is probably the biggest overlap between Zizek’s point about 24 and Casino Royale: there is an acceptance of this as the new state of affairs, but Casino Royale points out that there will be consequences. This is expressed most succintly by M who says that the politicians don’t care what MI6 does, only what it is photographed doing.

The point is clear; a certain degree of brutality follows and must be accepted in our political environment. The film never denies that, but simply chooses to show us some of the consequences.

3. Trust No One
And the final consequence is that everyone is a potential enemy. M is willing to have Bond killed if he speaks her real name, there is no sympathy between them. Even when it turns out that Vesper was the traitor, Bond does not accept that this makes Mathis innocent: it might have been a double-blind. Even M is surprised by his suspicions, but accepts them as real concerns.

This deep mistrust is more than simple suspicion towards the system, the popular paranoia of The X-Files and similar shows, films, etc where the system is always out to get the protagonist, but where a tight-knit friends can trust each other (Scully and Mulder, Robert and Edward in Enemy of the State, etc). Bond trusts no one, which means he has no friends, no loved ones and no one to turn to. He is truly alone and this is shown to be the ultimate consequence of his life and job.