Examines the face on screen from a variety of critical and historical perspectives

There was a time in screen culture when the facial close-up was a spectacular and mysterious image... The constant bombardment of the super-enlarged, computer-enhanced faces of advertising, the endless 'talking heads' of television and the ever-changing array of film stars' faces have reduced the face to a banal image, while the dream of early film theorists that the 'giant severed heads' of the screen could reveal 'the soul of man' to the masses is long since dead. And yet the end of this dream opens up the possibility for a different view of the face on the screen. The aim of the book is to seize this opportunity to rethink the facial close-up in terms other than subjectivity and identity by shifting the focus to questions of death and recognition. In doing so, the book proposes a dialectical reversal or about-face. It suggests that we focus our attention on the places in contemporary media where the face becomes unrecognisable, for it is here that the facial close-up expresses the powers of death. Using Walter Benjamin's theory of the dialectical image as a critical tool, the book provides detailed studies of a wide range of media spectacles of faces becoming unrecognisable. It shows how the mode of recognition enabled by these faces is a shock experience that can open our eyes to the underside of the mask of self - the unrecognisable mortal face of self we spend our lives trying not to see. Turning on itself, so to speak, the face exposes the fragile relationship between social recognition and facial recognizability in the images-cultures of contemporary media.

This book brings together research from medical and film archives to illustrate the cultural impact of film and literature in its relationship to the discourse of plastic surgery in the 1920s. This different take on reading the body after the First World War enables students of multiple disciplines, and readers interested in both Hollywood and post-war culture, to understand some of the complexities of medical interventions gained after the First World War and the way in which they filtered into the world of Hollywood film making. It also allows readers who may not be familiar with these two 1920s stars to access the films of Lon Chaney and the books and films of Elinor Glyn and gain new insights into 1920s visual culture. For ease of readership, the book is organised so that each of the main chapters focuses on a particular film (either Lon Chaney or Elinor Glyn). This is particularly useful for use in the classroom or for online education. Readers can refer to the film directly, aided by illustrations of frames from the films. This book tells the story of how two stars of Hollywood film transformed their character’s faces on screen through a close reading of three films in the 1920s. It reveals how they applied their embodied knowledge of surgery and surgical procedures to broaden their audience’s emotional and intellectual understanding of the treatment of deformity and disability.

What if your phone truly helped you connect with people more than disconnect with those around you? You CAN dare to be relationally different in a screen-to-screen culture. But. . .honestly, I like my phone. So what should I do? You probably enjoy screens but don’t want them hurting your relationships with the people who matter most, right? What if you could improve your face-to-face relationships, develop deeper connections, resolve conflict, and confidently communicate with friends, parents, teachers, roommates, coworkers, potential employers…even the barista at your local coffee shop? What if you paused to think before you posted, avoiding some of the hurt and consequences that almost always lead to regret after? What if you became a master of your own screen-time instead of letting it master you? What if you became more screen-wise? 40 real-life realizations including. . . * Your phone doesn’t have an UNSEND button. *Texting is a dumb way to manage conflict. * We all need a digital detox every once in a while. * Sometimes less is more. * Phones are a great tool for connecting with people outside of the room when they don’t interfere with the people inside the room * Sometimes the people we love the most are the people we ignored all day. Author and youth culture expert, Jonathan McKee, and his daughter Alyssa McKee, uncover forty random realizations they’ve discovered over the last five years. Screens provide fun platforms to connect with faraway friends; and sometimes the people we love the most are the people we ignore all day. Jonathan and Alyssa help young adults navigate face-to-face communication in a screen-to-screen world too! Maybe they’ll help you navigate face-to-face communication in a screen-to-screen world too!

The human face is a privileged arena of expressivity; yet, this book suggests, cinema's most radical encounters with the face give rise to ambiguity, illegibility--an equivocation between image and language. Braiding theoretical and aesthetic considerations with close analysis of films, Steimatsky interrogates the convergence of archaic powers and modern anxieties in our experience of the face on film.

How teens navigate a networked world and how adults can support them. What are teens actually doing on their smartphones? Contrary to many adults’ assumptions, they are not simply “addicted” to their screens, oblivious to the afterlife of what they post, or missing out on personal connection. They are just trying to navigate a networked world. In Behind Their Screens, Emily Weinstein and Carrie James, Harvard researchers who are experts on teens and technology, explore the complexities that teens face in their digital lives, and suggest that many adult efforts to help—“Get off your phone!” “Just don’t sext!”—fall short. Weinstein and James warn against a single-minded focus by adults on “screen time.” Teens worry about dependence on their devices, but disconnecting means being out of the loop socially, with absence perceived as rudeness or even a failure to be there for a struggling friend. Drawing on a multiyear project that surveyed more than 3,500 teens, the authors explain that young people need empathy, not exasperated eye-rolling. Adults should understand the complicated nature of teens’ online life rather than issue commands, and they should normalize—let teens know that their challenges are shared by others—without minimizing or dismissing. Along the way, Weinstein and James describe different kinds of sexting and explain such phenomena as watermarking nudes, comparison quicksand, digital pacifiers, and collecting receipts. Behind Their Screens offers essential reading for any adult who cares about supporting teens in an online world.