James Krukones | John Carroll University (original) (raw)
Papers by James Krukones
Russian History-histoire Russe, 2003
Russian History, 1991
Información del artículo Satan's blood, tsar's ink: rural alcoholism in an official &qu... more Información del artículo Satan's blood, tsar's ink: rural alcoholism in an official "publication for the people", 1881-1917.
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies, 2002
lane" may be attempts to logically explain how we got to where we are and what we are doing,... more lane" may be attempts to logically explain how we got to where we are and what we are doing, when we started on such different paths. This is the case with RobertArchibald's highly readable, A Place to Remember, Using History to Build Community. In this book— both autobiographical and historical—Dr. Archibald presents himself as the every man of the postWorldWar II era who was only too happy to leave the places of his childhood and strike out for a world that would be considerably better just by being a part of it. As I read A Place to Remember, I found myselfjoining Professor Archibald in his mea culpas because I, too, had abandoned my childhood hometown convinced that my intellect was destined for national or international stages. Ironically, like the author I am preserving and chronicling the very histories of the places I once derided as parochial and uninspiring. Unlike Europe and even nearby Quebec where families remain attached to the historically based communities of their youth and families for generations—if not centuries—the United States has always been a nation focused on its future, not its past. Therefore, all of us may be guilty of sacrificing the preservation of community history and contributing to the death of our nation's hometowns, both rural and urban. A Place to Remember presents a ten-step program to educate the general public that local preservation is as worthy as the national treatises written by the endowed academia chairs. In a touching scene, during a long delayed visit to Archibald's hometown in the Michigan's Upper Peninsula, the author returns to a childhood variety store and introduces a living artifact, the shop's owner, Theresa Andriacchi. Who is the better recorder, the professionally trained but absent historian—who abandoned his neighborhood—or the townswoman who stayed behind and lived the history scholars now find worthy to chronicle? Local experiences are multifaceted and cannot be restricted to one perspective and all sides must be considered; otherwise integrity is compromised. Therefore, while I concur with the author that multiple sources for community history must be solicited and conserved, I felt ProfessorArchibald spent too much time, seven chapters, detailing his autobiography as justification for this preservation. The author makes a case for the future survival of many communities deserted by factories, railroads, and its youth by citing them as symbols of what they once were. Collectively, these abandoned small towns and decaying inner cities would make a unique road map ofmilestones in our development. But, they could also be interpreted as tombstones in a national graveyard. Are all these communities worthy of salvation? Are there risks in creating each place as a museum to the past if it really has no future? Are we preserving the past or just creating jobs for public historians? Rural life needs to be written and diverse interpretations recorded, but are limits needed? The author fails us on these points. A Place to Remember's remaining three chapters caused me to pause and worry that after constructing strong arguments for neighborhood preservation, why did the author proceed to put the reader off by detailing the difficulties of getting funds, staff, and community involvement for the very projects advocated? These issues hung like albatrosses. I would have preferred that the concern over money, staffing, and the selection of what is recorded be offered as creative challenges to the talented pool of newly credentialed public historians. While each chapter has its own bibliography and there is a booklist at the end of carefully selected supplementary works advocating Archibald's worthy agenda, the reader would have benefited from listings of universities issuing degrees in public history, agencies awarding grants for preservation studies, and states already funded for community projects. In A Place to Remember Robert Archibald has handwoven a tapestry of personal memoirs advocating that local history is regarded as an endangered species. But, a stronger case is needed for linking a past to our future as rewards not just guilt because a future is what has attracted people to the United States for centuries and that is a legacy that may be too strong to overcome. James Krukones John Carroll University jkrukones@jcu.edu
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2015
Movie Roadshows: A History and Filmography of Reserved-Seat Limited Showings, 1911-1973 Kim R. Ho... more Movie Roadshows: A History and Filmography of Reserved-Seat Limited Showings, 1911-1973 Kim R. Holston. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, Publishers, 2013. $65.00. viii, 374 pp.According to Kim Holston, a roadshow was "a film in any genre exhibited as a reserved-seat, or hard ticket attraction playing twice a day in one theater during its initial run in selected markets, i.e., the larger cities" (3). That anyone should venture to write a history of this phenomenon indicates just how much a thing of the past it has become. And that surely is to be regretted, as the roadshow was, above all, an exercise and an experience in showmanship. It made going to the movies a special event, a prestige occasion akin to the legitimate theatre, from which the term roadshow actually comes. As movie roadshows hit their stride in the decades after the Second World War, they became what the author calls a "type" of film, often characterized by epic storytelling, widescreen present...
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2017
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies, 2001
However, my concern with the anthology is based not on what has been selected for inclusion, but ... more However, my concern with the anthology is based not on what has been selected for inclusion, but instead on certain omissions. The collection, for example, does not recall the ideas of Roger Manvell, whose early 1970s work clearly helped establish the line of criticism to which Jorgens belongs. One can only assume that space constraints prevented a brief inclusion ofManvell. Further restrictions also undoubtedly kept this volume from illustrating certain critical approaches (e.g., why are there no representative writings from the likes of Richard Burt?) or even including discussion of certain screenplays. To fully consider the purpose of Shakespearean film, as well as to suggest the future of such adaptation, the collection is surprisingly conservative. The discussion of Shakespearean cinema has often been confined to a short-list canon of directors: Welles, Kurosawa, Olivier, Branagh, or Zeffirelli. Their work has prompted the majority of previous criticism, so they obviously are t...
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2016
74 of the material in these sections will be of great interest to film historians, particularly R... more 74 of the material in these sections will be of great interest to film historians, particularly Richard Abel’s discussion (279-289) of Nielsen’s failure to secure a foothold in the United States, which may have something to do with her absence in standard accounts of film stardom’s history. The collection concludes with a trio of essays exploring Nielsen’s importance to our understandings of film stardom, with thoughtful commentaries on Nielsen’s characterizations of destitute women, and her usefulness as a case study in contemporary film reception methodologies. Importing Asta Nielsen is a valuable book for at least two reasons. First, the book offers an exemplary model for studying transnational performance and stardom. This volume could serve as a model for future conferences and collections on other film performers and the circulation of their star images across national and cultural borders. Second, the book offers a vivid example of the relationship between our knowledge of fi...
Russian History-histoire Russe, 2004
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2014
101 F&H This noble conclusion underscores the power of popular film to shape social ideologies, a... more 101 F&H This noble conclusion underscores the power of popular film to shape social ideologies, although its claim about film's abiliry to disrupt accepted history reveals an overlap with Rosenstone's definition of oppositional film, despite Mcgee's earlier disavowal. The volume's conclusion is perhaps too brief, moreover. Mcgee fails to address all of the implications of bad cinematographic history, such as how it might differ from historical and aesthetic relativism. If we grant with Mcgee the subjective nature of qualitative and aesthetic evaluation, does that render all historical films equally viable retellings of infinite history? Alternatively, must we treat all historical films as relevant simply because they reflect the values of the culture and era in which they are produced? These concerns notwithstanding, Mcgee's objection that different genres of historical film continue to be excluded from consideration even within circles that seek to further its s...
Russian History-histoire Russe, 2003
Russian History, 1991
Información del artículo Satan's blood, tsar's ink: rural alcoholism in an official &qu... more Información del artículo Satan's blood, tsar's ink: rural alcoholism in an official "publication for the people", 1881-1917.
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies, 2002
lane" may be attempts to logically explain how we got to where we are and what we are doing,... more lane" may be attempts to logically explain how we got to where we are and what we are doing, when we started on such different paths. This is the case with RobertArchibald's highly readable, A Place to Remember, Using History to Build Community. In this book— both autobiographical and historical—Dr. Archibald presents himself as the every man of the postWorldWar II era who was only too happy to leave the places of his childhood and strike out for a world that would be considerably better just by being a part of it. As I read A Place to Remember, I found myselfjoining Professor Archibald in his mea culpas because I, too, had abandoned my childhood hometown convinced that my intellect was destined for national or international stages. Ironically, like the author I am preserving and chronicling the very histories of the places I once derided as parochial and uninspiring. Unlike Europe and even nearby Quebec where families remain attached to the historically based communities of their youth and families for generations—if not centuries—the United States has always been a nation focused on its future, not its past. Therefore, all of us may be guilty of sacrificing the preservation of community history and contributing to the death of our nation's hometowns, both rural and urban. A Place to Remember presents a ten-step program to educate the general public that local preservation is as worthy as the national treatises written by the endowed academia chairs. In a touching scene, during a long delayed visit to Archibald's hometown in the Michigan's Upper Peninsula, the author returns to a childhood variety store and introduces a living artifact, the shop's owner, Theresa Andriacchi. Who is the better recorder, the professionally trained but absent historian—who abandoned his neighborhood—or the townswoman who stayed behind and lived the history scholars now find worthy to chronicle? Local experiences are multifaceted and cannot be restricted to one perspective and all sides must be considered; otherwise integrity is compromised. Therefore, while I concur with the author that multiple sources for community history must be solicited and conserved, I felt ProfessorArchibald spent too much time, seven chapters, detailing his autobiography as justification for this preservation. The author makes a case for the future survival of many communities deserted by factories, railroads, and its youth by citing them as symbols of what they once were. Collectively, these abandoned small towns and decaying inner cities would make a unique road map ofmilestones in our development. But, they could also be interpreted as tombstones in a national graveyard. Are all these communities worthy of salvation? Are there risks in creating each place as a museum to the past if it really has no future? Are we preserving the past or just creating jobs for public historians? Rural life needs to be written and diverse interpretations recorded, but are limits needed? The author fails us on these points. A Place to Remember's remaining three chapters caused me to pause and worry that after constructing strong arguments for neighborhood preservation, why did the author proceed to put the reader off by detailing the difficulties of getting funds, staff, and community involvement for the very projects advocated? These issues hung like albatrosses. I would have preferred that the concern over money, staffing, and the selection of what is recorded be offered as creative challenges to the talented pool of newly credentialed public historians. While each chapter has its own bibliography and there is a booklist at the end of carefully selected supplementary works advocating Archibald's worthy agenda, the reader would have benefited from listings of universities issuing degrees in public history, agencies awarding grants for preservation studies, and states already funded for community projects. In A Place to Remember Robert Archibald has handwoven a tapestry of personal memoirs advocating that local history is regarded as an endangered species. But, a stronger case is needed for linking a past to our future as rewards not just guilt because a future is what has attracted people to the United States for centuries and that is a legacy that may be too strong to overcome. James Krukones John Carroll University jkrukones@jcu.edu
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2015
Movie Roadshows: A History and Filmography of Reserved-Seat Limited Showings, 1911-1973 Kim R. Ho... more Movie Roadshows: A History and Filmography of Reserved-Seat Limited Showings, 1911-1973 Kim R. Holston. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, Publishers, 2013. $65.00. viii, 374 pp.According to Kim Holston, a roadshow was "a film in any genre exhibited as a reserved-seat, or hard ticket attraction playing twice a day in one theater during its initial run in selected markets, i.e., the larger cities" (3). That anyone should venture to write a history of this phenomenon indicates just how much a thing of the past it has become. And that surely is to be regretted, as the roadshow was, above all, an exercise and an experience in showmanship. It made going to the movies a special event, a prestige occasion akin to the legitimate theatre, from which the term roadshow actually comes. As movie roadshows hit their stride in the decades after the Second World War, they became what the author calls a "type" of film, often characterized by epic storytelling, widescreen present...
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2017
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies, 2001
However, my concern with the anthology is based not on what has been selected for inclusion, but ... more However, my concern with the anthology is based not on what has been selected for inclusion, but instead on certain omissions. The collection, for example, does not recall the ideas of Roger Manvell, whose early 1970s work clearly helped establish the line of criticism to which Jorgens belongs. One can only assume that space constraints prevented a brief inclusion ofManvell. Further restrictions also undoubtedly kept this volume from illustrating certain critical approaches (e.g., why are there no representative writings from the likes of Richard Burt?) or even including discussion of certain screenplays. To fully consider the purpose of Shakespearean film, as well as to suggest the future of such adaptation, the collection is surprisingly conservative. The discussion of Shakespearean cinema has often been confined to a short-list canon of directors: Welles, Kurosawa, Olivier, Branagh, or Zeffirelli. Their work has prompted the majority of previous criticism, so they obviously are t...
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2016
74 of the material in these sections will be of great interest to film historians, particularly R... more 74 of the material in these sections will be of great interest to film historians, particularly Richard Abel’s discussion (279-289) of Nielsen’s failure to secure a foothold in the United States, which may have something to do with her absence in standard accounts of film stardom’s history. The collection concludes with a trio of essays exploring Nielsen’s importance to our understandings of film stardom, with thoughtful commentaries on Nielsen’s characterizations of destitute women, and her usefulness as a case study in contemporary film reception methodologies. Importing Asta Nielsen is a valuable book for at least two reasons. First, the book offers an exemplary model for studying transnational performance and stardom. This volume could serve as a model for future conferences and collections on other film performers and the circulation of their star images across national and cultural borders. Second, the book offers a vivid example of the relationship between our knowledge of fi...
Russian History-histoire Russe, 2004
Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2014
101 F&H This noble conclusion underscores the power of popular film to shape social ideologies, a... more 101 F&H This noble conclusion underscores the power of popular film to shape social ideologies, although its claim about film's abiliry to disrupt accepted history reveals an overlap with Rosenstone's definition of oppositional film, despite Mcgee's earlier disavowal. The volume's conclusion is perhaps too brief, moreover. Mcgee fails to address all of the implications of bad cinematographic history, such as how it might differ from historical and aesthetic relativism. If we grant with Mcgee the subjective nature of qualitative and aesthetic evaluation, does that render all historical films equally viable retellings of infinite history? Alternatively, must we treat all historical films as relevant simply because they reflect the values of the culture and era in which they are produced? These concerns notwithstanding, Mcgee's objection that different genres of historical film continue to be excluded from consideration even within circles that seek to further its s...