From the French classification to global platforms, including Italian gore, Luis Buñuel’s blasphemies, and more contemporary controversies, “Darkness, censure & cinéma” offers a collection of eloquent texts on different forms of censorship. This book is available from LettMotif editions.
The authors delve into institutional oversight. Film classification in France, a prominent topic, involves classification, age restrictions, and distribution limitations. This structuring regulation determines who can see what and under what conditions.
Today, classification involves multiple levels: general audience, ban for under 12, 16, or 18, and even an “X” rating for pornographic or violence-inducing works. The final decision rests with the Minister of Culture, informed by a Classification Commission with diverse profiles (administrators, experts, film professionals, youth). Despite such diversity, subjectivity remains strong due to internal debates, fluid criteria, and assessment based on potential image effects.
The process involves several stages: film submission to CNC, committee viewing, and potential review by a plenary committee in case of disagreement or restriction request. Distributors can accept, challenge, or request reevaluation. Ultimately, decisions can be appealed to administrative courts.
While the book explores French regulatory censorship, it also delves into other forms. In the UK, Video Nasties triggered a moral panic leading to the ban of deemed dangerous productions. Instances of sacrilege abound, with religious imagery often acting as an immediate trigger.
The case of “Viridiana” sees Buñuel depicting beggars reenacting the Last Supper in a parody that veers into moral degradation. The film was banned in Spain, condemned by the Vatican despite recognition at Cannes. It questions a certain symbolic order.
Regarding “Mad Max,” a whole chapter covers how France initially shied away from this global success by offering truncated and unsatisfactory versions. Violence, chaos, dystopia justified cuts and restrictions, linked to the film’s inherent social disorder portrayal.
With platforms, censorship remains but grows more complex. “Our Boys” led to direct political reactions, including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s intervention. Netflix adjusts or cancels projects in Turkey, making modifications that are sometimes invisible, like removing a cigarette in “El Camino.”
Censorship operates through modification, adaptation, and partial removal, integrated into dissemination itself. It transforms sensitivity into susceptibility, where individual emotions become a collective lever. Works can be contested not just by institutions but by spectator groups, leveraging amplification through networks.
Whether Italian gore, religious blasphemy, pornography, dystopia, or contemporary series, the mechanism remains similar: a work crosses an implicit boundary and triggers institutional, political, or social reactions. The book doesn’t seek to unify these phenomena but juxtaposes them in concrete, identifiable examples in specific contexts.
Cinema remains a point of contention, a place where images that cross boundaries demand a response.
“Darkness, censure & cinéma,” collective LettMotif, March 22, 2026, 164 pages
