Search results

The Spanish lycanthrope arrived successfully to Spanish screens with The Mark of the Wolfman (Eguiluz, 1968), introducing iconic actor and scriptwriter Paul Naschy as werewolf Waldemar Daninsky. This persona would be later developed in more depth in The Werewolf Versus the Vampire Woman (Klimovsky, 1970) and Curse of the Devil (Aured, 1972). Furthermore, Daninsky’s construction responded to the historical repressive context of Francoist Spain, and the strong ideal of masculinity imposed and promoted under the fascist regime (Pulido, 2012).

After a long hiatus in the horror genre, the more recent film Game of Werewolves (Martínez Moreno, 2011) revisits the figure of the Spanish lycanthrope by introducing two different sets of characters embodying two different types of masculinity and, more significantly, by linking the strong, traditional male identity to the myth of the werewolf, paying homage to Waldemar Daninsky.

Thus, through the film’s historically contextualized textual analysis, the chapter seeks to study the myth of the werewolf in twenty-first-century Spain, in relation to the changes in the masculine identity and the historical context to which it refers, exploring the struggle of men to move from the traditional male identity imposed during the dictatorship to a more progressive one.

The purpose of this paper is to explore the availability and features of Latin American and Spanish online videos available through video vendors and other providers to US academic libraries.

The paper examines US, Spanish, and Latin American video vendors that offer online videos about and/or are produced in Latin America and Spain. The study focuses on: content, technical aspects, and terms of purchase. For video vendors providing digital delivery systems, searching capabilities and special features are also analyzed. The paper also evaluates video providers interested in working with academic libraries. The availability of videos integrated in major multimedia databases is also explored.

The paper concludes that the Spanish and Latin American online video marketplace for academic libraries is still emerging, especially for those video vendors located abroad. The relatively small number of offerings are mostly documentaries. Streaming via internet protocol access is the most common way of delivery. Term licenses are standard and access is allowed both off‐campus and on‐campus.

Little research has been done on the availability of Latin American and Spanish online videos. This research would be especially useful for librarians responsible for collection development in these subject areas.

Various law and film scholars have noted that the judge occupies the place of a marginal figure in ‘legal cinema’ and in related scholarship. In this chapter I want to engage with the debate about the representation of the judge in film by way of an examination of a South African documentary, ‘Two Moms: A family portrait’ (2004). In the first instance this ‘family portrait’ appears to be neither an obvious candidate for inclusion in the canon of ‘legal cinema’ nor a film with a plotline dominated by a judge. But from this rather unpromising start this chapter explores how a film about an ordinary family made up of extraordinary people is an extraordinary film about law in general and about the figure of the judge in particular.

While horror film is hardly new to Latin America, film scholars have largely emphasized the paradigms of socially engaged, ‘serious cinema’ over exploring how genre, cult or other transgressive film-making modes have developed in and reflect the region (Tierney, 2014). To characterize Latin American horror, it is typified by the supernatural, which indeed contradicts serious cinema. Since about 2010, however, Latin American film-makers have revisited the ‘abduction’ subgenre of horror film. This chapter analyses three such films – Scherzo Diabolico (García Bogliano, 2015), Luna de Miel (Cohen, 2015) and Sudor Frío (García Bogliano, 2010) – to suggest how their representations of gender and class complicate assumptions about everyday life in the region. The chapter also interrogates how this revived mode of horror film-making reconfigures gender ideologies to challenge the Latin American sociopolitical structures of machismo and patriarchy. By integrating conceptualizations of hybridity with transnational views on horror film-making and Freeland’s (1996) reworked feminist strategy for analysing horror texts, this chapter argues that, in tandem with new means of accessing and viewing Latin American horror globally, we should rethink how the abduction subgenre reflects new realities of Latin American society.