1) Dogville (2003), directed by Lars von Trier, is a semi-allegorical period film that follows a fugitive from ambiguous mob forces, Grace, as she takes shelter in a small mountain town, Dogville, during the Great Depression. Wary of any danger that Grace’s circumstances might bring to the collective, the town council decides that in exchange for sanctuary – which their morality, as one town member argues, obliges them to give – Grace will undergo a trial period in which she assists with chores at the various households and is assessed for character. Gradually, through charisma, acts of kindness, and a willingness to cooperate, Grace earns the town’s goodwill and is compensated for her work. Following a police raid, however, the labor which is expected of Grace becomes increasingly more draconian: “harder, longer hours, for less pay.” After suffering various torments, Grace attempts to flee Dogville, but in the process of doing so she is betrayed and brought back. As retaliation for the money she is falsely alleged to have stolen for her means of departure, the town chains Grace, with a dog-collar-esque apparatus, to a lead weight that drags beside her. The apparatus both precludes movement beyond the level rock of Dogville’s place on the mountain and ensures that all can hear of Grace’s movement as she completes her chores. Ultimately, the mob from which Grace has been running arrives at Dogville and is revealed to be led by Grace’s father. Following a conversation between the two of them regarding the arrogance of Grace’s willingness to forgive the citizens of Dogville for what they have done to her, Grace decides to have the town and its people annihilated.
Surveillance, I believe, is integral to Dogville. The minimalism of the set – a soundstage in which there are no walls to demarcate structures but rather squares of floor tape and labels of what should be filled by the viewer’s imagination – underscores that Dogville, due to its extreme insularity, is a place lacking privacy. The townspeople’s surveillance of Grace in particular is coerced by their desire to maintain the ethics and safety of their community, which Grace puts in jeopardy via the threat of state surveillance. Thus, it would probably land in the ethos coordinate. Grace’s compliance with Dogville’s surveillance is also coerced by ethos; she would like to return their generosity and prove her alignment with the town’s values. Regarding any ideological conclusion, I have remained stuck on the film’s ending since I first watched it. I am wondering whether the concept of sousveillance plays a role here, given the reversal of power dynamics between Grace and the collective.
2) Because capable of what he terms “animal, intellectual, and moral” faculties, Lavater asserts, “Man [...] is in himself the most worthy subject of observation, as he likewise in himself is the most worthy observer” (7). I found this argument to be contradictory; if man contains such clashing multitudes and, moreover, should be so distrusted that “never can his properties be wholly known, except by the aid of his external form, his body, his superficies,” it does not follow that man should have license to observe his own kind – especially as “the most worthy observer” (7). The predominance of objectivity in that which can be seen – that Lavater so ardently advocates for – seems to imply the nullification of any credibility in testimony – both the ability of man to express internal life and of the other to comprehend such expression, beyond physical manifestations – and therefore nullifies the validity of physiognomic practice. Only the divine gaze, according to the logic by which Lavater’s androcentrism is predicated, can observe man omnisciently and conclude absolutes.
3) In the chapter on Moral and Corporeal Beauty, Lavater presents the side profiles of two men, plate IX and plate X, whose countenances supposedly indicate vice (111-112). While the man in plate X is obviously more caricature-like in his posture and expression – and thus denoted as more beastly in character – I found it interesting that Lavater does not remark upon the clothing in either image. The man in plate IX wears what seems to be the uniform of some state official or member of aristocracy; the man in plate X, meanwhile, is dressed in what would be considered more slovenly garments at this time. Perhaps more so than by physical “deformities,” surely one’s intuitions about these men and their lives would be significantly informed by the respective outfits and their contextualization as indicators of class and status.