Visual Anthropology in Sardinia, Silvio Carta, (2015). Reviewed by Kailyn N. Warpole

warpoleAs a film scholar, it is no easy task to take on researching a culturally and institutionally enriching topic that has been largely overlooked by other academics. Author Silvio Carta, however, proves he is up to the challenge with his well-constructed book, Visual Anthropology in Sardinia (2015). Carta’s book takes readers on an enlightening exploration through Sardinian documentary filmmaking—from fascist-era propaganda films to more modern depictions of shepherds and pastoral life—to call attention to this neglected genre within Italian cinema. Providing detailed analyses of several film plots and their stylistic arrangements within an ethnographic framework, Carta strives to make a complex area of study both relevant and interesting for his readers.

From the start of Visual Anthropology, readers will notice, and likely appreciate, its structured and organized approach at presenting information. In chapter 1, Carta states very plainly what his book does not seek to do—including, “write Sardinia’s documentary film history” and offer “a reception study providing some kind of sociological analysis of film audiences” (1)—in order to more clearly propose what it does intend to do, which “is to provide an overview of the development of documentary film in Sardinia . . . highlighting the innovations and potential of this kind of cinema” (1). In addition to this, he outlines his main argument for the book, providing sufficient context to justify his academic pursuits. Each subsequent chapter or subsection begins with a similar introduction to the information ahead; in this way, the reader always knows what to expect (or, what not to expect), which is refreshing when being introduced to new and intricate subject matter. Nearly every page includes a detailed set of footnotes, which adds to Carta’s orderly aesthetic and eases the burden of navigating source material. Nevertheless, an extensive filmography, bibliography, and index are also included in the back of the book for additional reference.

Carta first looks at documentaries produced in Sardinia in the fascist era, during which films carried a propagandistic tone with the aim of unification between regions in Italy. Beginning in the 1920s and working his way through the 1950s and 60s, then onward, Carta provides a historical overview of these films in order to point out how “. . . the past of Sardinia emerges as the ‘wrong’ past” (69), meaning that the documentaries did not deliver accurate portrayals of the Sardinian landscape, often depicting it instead as little more than a swampy wasteland. He also uses this timeline as an opportunity to discuss changes in the industry, supplementing his point about the development of film production equipment and technologies over time. On this matter, he still insists that knowing “how and what to film . . . requires experience, as well as cinematic sensibility” (32). From there, the book’s final chapters focus on individual films: documentary-esque fiction film Banditi a Orgosolo (1961) and documentary film Tempus de Baristas (1993). Though Carta examines specific elements of each film individually, he offers equal amounts of general analysis and evaluation for each, providing balanced critiques in addition to his praises. Through these detailed analyses, he effectively highlights the benefits of utilizing the documentary film medium over the more archaic method of capturing data with pencil and paper in order to record an ethnographic study.

Overall, Carta’s Visual Anthropology in Sardinia can be a challenging, but worthwhile, read. Carta demonstrates a clear passion for the material, which gives the book a sense of purpose and encourages the reader to invest him or herself in the content as well. Ample screen grabs and production stills are incorporated throughout the book to complement the text (Carta even discusses the functions of imagery paired with the analyses). Perhaps the only perplexing image is that which appears on the cover—a photo of a man and a woman in a mildly sultry pose, dressed in “Sardinian folk costumes” (according to the copyright page). Though the photo is certainly eye-catching, it doesn’t seem to connect much to the actual content of the book, which could potentially be misleading for readers browsing in a bookstore. Apart from this minor disconnect, however, I wasn’t able to find much fault in the book. I would especially recommend it to those cinephiles who are looking to explore a rare subject, or just anyone interested in learning about the filmmaking styles of a different culture. It is a unique sample of scholarship on an under-represented topic of film studies, ready and waiting to be discovered by the film community.

Author Biography

Kailyn N. Warpole will graduate from the University of North Carolina Wilmington in December 2015 with a BA in film studies, a BFA in creative writing, a minor in English, and a Certificate in Publishing. In addition to Film Matters, she has done editorial work at Atlantis and Chautauqua, and hopes to continue working in the publishing field after she graduates.

Book Details

Visual Anthropology in Sardinia, Silvio Carta, (2015)
Bern: Peter Lang AG, International Academic Publishers, 209 pp., ISBN: 9783034309981 (pbk), 9783035306774 (eBook) $72.95

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