Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir
For those yet to watch The Souvenir, Joanna Hogg’s semi-autobiographical, two part film tracks the creative progress of a student filmmaker (Julie) finding her artistic voice. Set in the 1980s, the first part (2019) follows the turbulent relationship between Julie and Anthony; the second part (2021) shows the aftermath of Anthony’s death, and Julie piecing together the events of the first part to produce her graduation project at film school. It is a unique take on the form of autobiography in the sense that it shows the making of the autobiography in the autobiography.
Autobiography is possibly the most overt act of self-expression. It is a fascinating genre in reference to the fact that it blurs the lines between nonfiction and fiction. Although it is presented as something which actually took place, its creator always has to approach it with a critical distance in order to make their own experience as interesting as possible. The process is one that has them retrospectively reflect on their past and order it into a narrative that accurately mirrors the journey that has transported them to the present moment, the one in which they are creating the autobiography. It is in this sense that the autobiographical can never view time as linear, but circular; the end is the beginning of the creation of the story. Much like predictions that tell you more about the present than the future, autobiography tells you more about the present than it does about the past.
For the purpose of this article, I want to identify The Souvenir as ‘hauntological art’, defined as art that represents a refusal to give up on a desire for the future. Coined by Jacques Derrida and later popularised by Mark Fisher, hauntology is a portmanteau of haunt and ontology (the study of being); in this sense, it is a kind of ontology that views being as not fully present, but as ghostly - ideas, people, places, and things are neither present or absent. Using an example, in a simple melody, the listener hears, is present with, a single note. The note on its own has no melodic qualities - the only way to make sense of the melody as a melody is to contextualise the singular present note with the notes that are no longer heard (the past) and the notes that are anticipated (the future). Therefore, the melody is never fully present, rather it is reliant on an interplay between the present, and the past and future; an interplay between the present and absent.
The traditional form of autobiography functions similarly to that of pop music: each listen, the melody is repeated again and again. The present note can only be understood by its relation to the past; the anticipation of the future notes are already confirmed in the repetition. The melody is haunted, but only by the notes no longer heard. Unless a second autobiography is created, the creator cements themselves into a narrative.
To further explain how hauntology operates, Immanuel Kant establishes a key distinction between negative and indefinite judgments in the Critique of Pure Reason. The statements ‘it is not dead’ (negative) and ‘it is undead’ (indefinite) both negate the positive claim: ‘it is dead’, yet there is a nuanced difference between the two. Where the negative judgement denies the predicate (not dead), the indefinite judgement applies a non-predicate (undead). The indefinite judgement, therefore, asserts a third domain that undermines the binary of, in this case, being either dead or not dead; the undead are those who are neither alive nor dead.
Whether present absences (or the undead) exist purely symbolically in the form of dead ideas, traditions, or people, they still and will still have a dominant sphere of influence until they have been exorcised. It goes without saying that the living dead are far harder to kill than the living. The Souvenir is a ghost story. The ghosts in question are not those of paranormativity, but those contained within Julie’s past. While Anthony’s physical death hinges the narrative between the first and second part, for Julie in the second part, he exists for Julie in a symbolic space, neither living nor dead.
Anthony, to all intents and purposes, is fundamentally ghostly; he comes and goes as he pleases. He disrupts the sheltered world that Julie inhabits. He takes long, ambiguous absences that are rationalised by his claim that he works for the home office. Nothing he says can be completely believed, although Julie believes him in her naivety. Yet, most importantly, after his heroin overdose in a Wallace Collection bathroom, he still persists and dictates her life as if he were still living. He bears the heaviest burden on her life through his present absence that prevents her from moving on. So, how does Julie move on?
To answer this question, I want to illustrate a scene: Anthony leans across and reads over Julie’s statement of intent for her graduation project at film school. He is apprehensive about a passage she has written about her process of filmmaking being a form of self-expressive therapy:
“I’m not sure sincerity is always enough [...] I just think people use that word as if it's an end in itself, and I mean, you know, we can all be sincere, we can all be authentic, but what's it all for? It slightly reads like you’ve been backed into a corner by life, and it's like ‘Oh well, I better be a film director’ as opposed to ‘I want to be a film director’”
The distinction between passive and active self-expression is crucial here. Passive self-expression is the expression of submission, it replays pre-established forms and brings them into the present. Active self-expression, on the other hand, is the expression of a desire, it creates new forms. Both can be perceived as sincere. In many ways, the ghost of Anthony is that which places Julie in a position of submission; he is the necessary obstacle that Julie must overcome. Anthony’s function as a ghost is to propel Julie’s voice into speaking, Julie’s artistic voice exorcises Anthony. Julie overcomes the burden of Anthony with active self-expression; her expression of a desire to move away from his sphere of influence.
If there is any moment that reaffirms this interpretation, it is Julie’s graduation film. Unlike the highly-effective realism that is previously experienced throughout the two films prior to that point, the film with a film is other-worldly, rich in surrealism and symbolism. As Joanna Hogg mentioned in a post-production interview, it was the film she wished she had made as her graduation project, yet did not have the resources to pull it off. For clarity’s sake, I ought to give you a brief outline of the film; I must add that no description will do it justice. The film takes Julie through a labyrinth of different settings to arrive at Anthony, whom she shoots (like one would with a camera and firearm). She is then taken to a mirrored room, dressed in a mask that bears Anthony’s resemblance; there her friends and family take the mask. It is then she leaves the labyrinth.
Although the film within the film gives an onscreen representation of the exorcism of Anthony; it is not its finality. After the on-screen showing of her graduation project, there are a series of scenes of Julie moving on. First, she pays back her mother who throughout the films is constantly lending her money for camera equipment and Anthony (who is supposedly using it to fund his heroin addiction). She is the director of a music video with courage in her convictions. And then the final scene.
Mirroring the start of The Souvenir, Julie is having a birthday party. Her usual friends greet her at the door and enjoy their time dancing and taking photos of each other. Her old flatmate inquires if there is to be a ‘fine young gentleman’ showing up for her this evening, a question which Julie bats away. The camera pans away to show her flat is stage set in a warehouse. It lingers on the interior of the warehouse with the music from the party still blaring, albeit slightly muted, and the film crew hovering around the periphery. Then, unseen, the voice of Joanna Hogg calls ‘Cut!’.
The cycle is broken. I supposed at the start of this article that the form of autobiography is cyclical, yet Joanna Hogg ends her film in the present but at the end of her creation as opposed to the beginning. The ghost of Anthony is finally exorcised both inside and outside of the film. The final line is an act of desire for the past to be contained within the past. The Souvenir, both in its content and form, shows us how authentic active self-expression is a refusal to give up on the desire for the future.