SECTION 2 - THE EVERYDAY EDIT

The preceding chapters have established the cut as an analytical framework that can dissect objects of hyperreal reality – a film, an advertisement, a building. However, treating these objects as isolations risks undermining the totality of the contemporary condition. In this final section, rather than isolating each manifestation (as case studies or ‘objects’) of hyperreality, this section outlines a typical day in the current hyperreal reality. This structure is not based around narrative convenience but an analytical necessity; only by following the progressive experience – from morning’s temporal fragmentation to evening’s nostalgia satiation – can explain the wholeness of this condition. The individual (as previously dubbed, an abstracted contemporary individual) cannot ‘escape’ the cut – they are left to be interrupted constantly. Each encounter of the cut compounds onto the next, demonstrating hyperreality is not episodic but environmental. This methodology does not undermine the cut as an analytical tool, instead it reinforces it as a system for analysing objects of hyperreality that compounds with each interaction which in turn creates the hyperreal environment. Where Baudrillard’s hyperreality was once fixated in Disneyland, it is now omnipresent.

7:00am – 12:00pm

While each individual’s circumstances may vary, what is a measurable common trend as shown in the Social Dilemma is the interruption of smartphone notifications as involuntary cuts, acting as the primary hyperreal object present in an individual’s life. If cinematic logic states that contrasting images rearranged can alter an image or the implicit meaning, then feeds, short-form video content or even autoplay systems such as that on Netflix or YouTube must innately function similarly. Social media (generally viewed as the primary tool of contemporary self-conceptualisation) feeds represent the montage theory’s most extreme realisation - we can call this algorithmic montage – continuous, perfectly personalized, never-ending collision.

Unlike Kuleshov’s continuity, social media feeds resemble a system more adjacent to Eisenstein’s collision theory. When scrolling, each ‘image’ (whether a story, short form video content, direct message, etc) represents the films’ ‘shot’ known to Eisenstein as a ‘montage cell’. Whilst each montage cell may be from different sources, or films, as “cinema operates directly on the emotions, bypassing the intellect” (Eisenstein, 1949) they must appear to the individual subconsciously as one continuous ‘film’. However, as each ‘shot’ is created independently from one another, as in, they are rarely interconnected, the algorithmic film is formed of direct image collisions. The only connectedness between the ‘shots’ is done by editing enacted by the subconscious mind.

As Eisenstein states ‘conflict is the primary element of the arts’ which in turn produces meaning, social media functions from this same logic. Each juxtaposition means the algorithmic film forces the individual to be in constant state of confusion as this film can never be resolved – each montage cell comes from entirely different intellectual, rhythmic, ideological sources. The individual cannot stay with any one concept or idea for any meaningful amount of time.

This is a direct contrast to the functioning of perception in Baudrillard’s profound reality. If we take Murch’s idea around blinking as a mechanism of helping discern the material world discontinuous and therefore comprehensible, then the individual’s morning routine must render the individual as mentally discontinuous. The first physical notification-cut interruption begins as the individual wakes, or soon after, and primes them for compounding interaction hyperreality later in the day. We can describe the notification cut as Eisenstein’s ‘over-tonal montage’, a kind of montage that “is the conflict between the principal tone of the piece and its overtones.”

When going about the morning routine, the notification cut forces the individual’s perception to be at two places at once - splitting perception in two. When the individual travels to work, or school, or education, split perception also travels with them. In any task that the individual engages in, they can never be truly present as the algorithmic interruption cut is present. Therefore, the individual lives a split life, their perception cutting between two separates. This physical and digital parallelism-montage-perception could be described using this shot list;

Writing task –
‘x tagged you’ notification interruption –
task –
sending text to family member –
Instagram scroll –
disturbing new headline -
task –
friend’s wedding photo –
task etc

Through this process, the individual begins the day already fragmented. After the morning routine, the individual then travels to the hyperreal spatial object, perhaps to eat something.

01:00pm – 03:00pm

St David’s shopping centre (with shopping centres in general) act as the epitome of ‘the cut’ as spatial reality. In following Colomina’s logic, St David’s centre is also another modern building functionless to public use and instead is another hyperreal object that the individual interacts with. There are few windows on the ground floor of the shopping centre, effectively blocking and maintaining the cut as a spatial prison for the individual. Perhaps travelling to the shopping centre, the individual managed to step outside of the cut, however the presence of the interruptive notification means that it is likely impossible. Since the only windows are the entrance the building, the windows do not act traditionally, but instead are the same as the cinematic screen – a portal, the same as the smartphone. In this way, the architecture of the user-interface system is no different to the architecture of the advertisement building.

Inside, the shop windows function as another entrance to a different space, yet differently to the modern, open plan building, the shop entrance is a portal to another place or world entirely, which is primary form of spatial montage in spatial hyperreality. This intellectual cut, the transitioning of one space to another, creates a ‘new concept’, or as Eisenstein describes, the juxtaposition of two facts, a concept is formed.’ However, since the shopping centre is a hyperreal object, that is to say it has no resemblance to the profound reality (only a sign leading to a copy), there are no ‘facts’ to juxtapose with itself, and therefore no true new concept is formed. When walking through the shopping centre, reality becomes filmic. As discussed by Bernays, constant bombardment of symbols and image’s structure one’s mental narrative, and in turn leads to subconscious decision after following ‘the trusted leader’. In this way, the individual is forced to be locked into that space, again like the cut prison. In St David’s shopping centre, the individual is not allowed to see outside of what they must consume either mentally or financially. As each ‘portal’ (shop entrance) is evenly spaced apart, it creates a kind of metric montage – montage cells cut to the same length, creating a predictable satisfactory walking pace designed to attract.

On the top floor of the shopping centre, Colomina argues directly against the modern building’s notion that glass acts a transparency mechanism for democracy stating ‘the discourse of transparency in modern architecture is not simply about openness or honesty. It is also a discourse of exposure”. Along with the constant presence of the smartphone as the interruptive cut, even the structure of the glass windows means that the top floor features little privacy. Perhaps this means that the top floor is less oppressive, however in reference to architecture promenade – open plan architecture – Colomina affirms that “architecture is organized like a system of looking, a mechanism that controls vision”. It seems then that the top floor functions as a quieter persuasion – there is again nowhere to escape as the modern building has no privacy. Perhaps this structure resembles As Bernays states, “We are governed, our minds are moulded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of.’

At what level of Baudrillard’s stages does St David’s shopping centre represent? This is a question of how we define the purpose of the building. It could be said that the shopping centre exemplifies the first stage as it is labelled as a place to spend money. However, different to objects of the profound reality, the shopping centre is filled with symbols that try to display meaning. For example, if the individual views a tree this cannot stand for something else. Their meaning is imbedded internally; the advertisement is a symbol of manufactured desire. The effectiveness of the shopping centre works as it creates a type of fantasy that intends to satisfy the individual. In this way, there is nothing ‘real’ about St David’s shopping centre. St David’s shopping is a hyperreal object. Thus, the film set bears more reality than the shopping centre. Yes, it can be said that film attempts to replicate reality, however the things shown are not stand-ins or symbols that point to anything else. When a bird is projected onto the screen, it can only be that. Thus, as Baudrillard says, ‘the real becomes more real than reality’.

Whilst navigating the pathway home, the body of the individual navigates the space (avoiding crowds, obstacles) while the mind is simultaneously interrupted by notification cuts. The mind is therefore forced to draw connections between the algorithmic film and spatial reality, just as Murch’s blinking happens subconsciously, the individual navigates the space without conscious presence. We see this in “And that blink will occur where a cut could have been made…” This is the opposite of Tarkovsky's emphasis on texture and duration - there is little sensory engagement with the environment. The route home has become familiar and therefore automated; the individual's body becomes merely a vehicle for moving the smartphone (and thus the algorithmic film) from location to location.

05:00pm-10:00pm

Now, seeking resolution, the individual returns to the modern home. Different to the modern advertising building, advertising in the digital space operates even less directly, in that algorithmic advertising is created to be unseen. In the advertising building, what the individual views is directly an advert, but when adverts form a part of the subconscious algorithmic film, we can view that as the final step of Bernay’s mass psychology manipulation. If we can accept that the algorithmic film, after learning from the individual represents the individual, then advertisements must also represent the individual also. When each algorithmic montage cell is treated equally as another, adverts also become as important yet subliminal as ‘content’, meaning the advertisements also forms the individual’s identity as greatly. When Bernays writes “the average citizen is the most efficient censor”, the algorithmic film has only strengthened his argument - most user-generated content acts as our own censorship. The masses need no longer to be taught social norms, trends or desires but through the algorithmic film the individual internalises them, doing the work for the “invisible ruling class” (Bernays). Previously, advertising needed to sell and create identities, however using the algorithm, there is even less work – all advertisers need to do is see trends and adopt them into their product, in a never-ending series of call and responses. A trend is set among users; the advertisers adopt this and sell it back.

Even inside the modern home, Colomina stresses that “the modern subject is both inside and outside, both the viewer and the viewed”. In this way, the modern house becomes an early prototype for the social media profile. Both the modern house and the social media profile are curated spaces designed primarily for external viewing rather than authentic inhabitation. Where Colomina argues that modern architecture is “designed to be photographed”, the social media profile functions in the same way – it is the literal photographic/visual presentation of the individual, arranged for the camera or screen, prioritising appearance over functionality. We could also argue that the profile ‘frames’ of the curated profile, selecting what’s shown, hiding what’s hidden, is no different from Colomina’s description of the individual "framed inside as though through a viewfinder” in modern architecture, as if being photographed or viewed in the individual’s home. These profile frames, following a similar structure to St David’s centre’s metric montage, create systems that force a condition where the individual performs private life for public consumption, where "the outside becomes as present as the inside" (Colomina). Perhaps this logic realizes an implication – that modern architecture has conditioned the masses to ‘prepare’ for social media for the last hundred years, through the erasure of distinction between publicity and privacy, the self as performance or private life should be visible.

After interacting with hyperreality for the duration of the day, the individual seeks reconnection, perhaps by watching a television programme on their chosen streaming service of choice:

The hit original Netflix show ‘Stranger things’ is an object where the cut operates as temporal paralysis. The show embodies the cultural condition that commodifies the past as comfort – not as it was or lived, but as remembered through media. Stranger Things represents exemplify what Fisher wrote as the ‘slow cancellation of the future’, where frictionless nostalgia substitutes any kind of progression or reimagining of the future. Fisher writes “Time no longer feels like it is moving forward. Instead, it seems to be looping, recycling, and stalling”. In this sense, the past reconstructed in the series is not based on historical experience, but simulation governed by cinematic references.

The show makes use of recognisably media-driven memorabilia - bikes, arcades, malls, walkie-talkies - and repackages them as a consumable sign. These objects did exist; however, they are reimagined in a way that does not reveal the pasts’ social conflict, boredom, politics or class. The threat of communism and the Soviet Union is simply regarded as a mechanism of nostalgia. The Russians are strictly represented as brutes, aside from Alexei - the only sympathetic Russian representative, who is later discarded after he fulfils the American’s objectives. The possibility of coexistence is never entertained. The show only revives the aesthetic and superficiality of the past but does not attempt to acknowledge what was ‘lost’ of that era. Undesirable characters may die – but the main cast always prevail, the show never revealing true consequences. Stranger Things gestures at trauma but never truly commits - side characters die for emotional affect, core characters ‘die’ for temporary suspense, however death is ultimately aesthetic, symbolic or reversible. Ultimately, as death functions as an aesthetic device, there are no irreversible temporal disruptions, therefore time in Stranger Things does not exist.

In the episode The Weirdo on Maple Street of the first season, Dustin, Lucas and Mike discover Eleven in the woods and bring them back to Mike’s. From there, she is treated as an outsider, learning that she lacks many social norms after being exploited in Hawkin’s National Laboratory. Mike shows her regular products – all things Elliot does with E.T. Even the creators themselves, the Duffer Brothers outline their ‘influence’ of these films:

“…I always wanted to do a Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which was never going to happen. It was like, ‘Okay, this is our opportunity. What does a Freddy Krueger look like in the Stranger Things universe, and how would it work with the kids?” (Breznican, 2022)

We can understand Stranger Things in terms of referential montage. Stranger Things synchronises images of the past with our contemporary culture, creating an invisible yet present temporal match cut across eras - the past and present exist simultaneously forcing our current present moment to be frozen. In this way, stranger things is undeniably pure simulation – it bears no resemblance to lived reality, only the Duffer Brothers’ mediated experience of their own childhood filtered through cinema. When Mike finds Eleven in the woods, we are not watching an original scene; we are watching a cut between E.T., Stand By Me, and Firestarter, assembled so smoothly that we experience it as 'original' while simultaneously enjoying the nostalgic recognition. This is the cut operating as pure simulacra - Baudrillard's fourth stage made manifest. The show has 'no relation to any reality whatsoever' because it only relates to other films, which themselves related to other films. It is montage eating itself. The cultural success of Stranger Things is therefore not incidental, but indicative of a broader temporal condition in which nostalgia functions as a stabilising force amid uncertainty.

Perhaps this analysis does not acknowledge the later series – where Hopper is prisoner in the Kamchatka labour camp, which can sometimes feel closer to realism; yet it is undeniable that there is an evident longing in Stranger Things. The use of these consumable signs – of real, tangible objects – is only a product of our loss of the real. When culture experiences reality generally as mediated, events told via media spectacles, there is likely a longing for tangibility. These objects exist like brand sequencing, following this order:

Shot – reaction – musical swell – logo object

Here, objects introduced provide no contradiction nor discomfort, held long enough for their recognition to be acknowledged, reflecting tghe writing in Propaganda. Desire is managed through repetition and familiarity, not persuasion. Editing instead becomes behavioural design, training recognition, never risking alienation.

Since these objects are still used by the Duffer brothers own mediated view of their childhood, there is a hypocrisy to Stranger Things’ use of the objects and sets. These objects, such as bikes, neon and fashion, use a kind of rhythmic montage so predictable that it does not interrupt or challenge the individual and instead rewards them with nostalgic sedation. Typically, rhythmic cuts are used to create tension, which in turn “pathos arises from the intensifications of the formal elements” (Eisenstein). In Stranger Things, rhythmic montage is used as replay, not development. The past is not remembered; its aesthetic image is re-performed. The use of malls as a set means it can exist anywhere – they are ubiquitous – meaning it maximises ‘relatability’ to the individual yet the mall as a set implies that it is a copy of a copy. As clarified, to begin with the mall or shopping centre bears no resemblance to the profound reality, so to remanufacture the shopping centre as if trying to resemble some kind of tangibility means that Stranger Things is a pretend programme.

In classic cinema, the cut is visible, and is designed to ensure the viewer is shocked, or challenged. In Stranger Things, the cut is anaesthetized, feeling totally natural, and maintains immersion at all costs. The style of montage no longer challenges the viewer— it preserves hyperreality’s illusion.

11:00pm – to sleep

Now waiting for sleep, which again like the rest of the day, is split between body and mind. The phone charges beside the bed, with dreams possibility structured or at least influenced by media consumption. The morning alarm begins the new cut cycle. When Eisenstein states that cinema acts as “a means of educating the masses through a system of images”, objects of hyperreality and specifically social media do not enact this role. As what is proliferated online by the algorithm is generally what is engaging rather than truthful, this cultural condition cannot be said to enforce ‘collective education’. Instead, emotionally resonant ‘truth’ is spread. By end’s day, the individual has experienced:

• Notification cuts
• Spatial cuts
• Algorithmic cuts
• Nostalgic cuts

When each cut compounds, the individual does not merely experience hyperreal objects separate, but as one continuous hyperreal film where reality and simulation are indistinguishable. This is Baudrillard’s fourth stage manifest – no relation to profound reality. The individual believes they have agency – to scroll, to shop, to watch – but each choice occurs with set edited options, each moment dictated by cutting logic. The experience of living in half-reality is seamless as it is total, since the individual occupies modernity’s frictionless convenience (Baudrillard). The individual is not film editor but the viewer, watching their own life as a reflection of set edits.

This raises questions – if the individual does indeed occupy inside the cut, is resistance possible? Murch argued that blinking allows the individual to comprehend reality, but what happens if reality itself ‘blinks’? That is, reality is no longer a continuous, legitimate nor verifiable among varying perspectives? Fisher argued that imagination is occupied by capitalism, the cut reveals the mechanism of that occupation. It is arguable that we simply cannot imagine ourselves outside of hyperreality as the individual’s perception is edited. The individual’s day demonstrates that we no longer conceive as hyperreality as a concept, but we are its content - “…a skinner box could be implemented in a waking state without the person realizing it.” (Lanier,).