Know your (film)
manifestos!
Cinedome is a collaborative film zine about pirating, the obscure, the experimental, and the allround passion for cinema.
For its fourth edition I got the chance to write about an interesting subject... Manifestos!
Read my article below and check out Cinedome on its website here!
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Last Cinedome edition, we embarked on a journey through the zines that came before us; how they shaped the industry and brought to light important voices and subjects. We briefly touched upon manifestos, but now it’s time to dedicate an essay to them in the same manner.
Manifestos are the embodiment of innovation in our industry. They have long been a call to arms for filmmakers and critics alike to declare their intentions and challenge conventions. These manifestos were often written by pioneers of a movement who meant to shake up the world of cinema with bold statements, too long unspoken.
We’ll start this important history lesson with one of the pioneers of film manifestos and slowly travel to the now and… the future? Who knows, afterwards it might feel like time for you to pick up the mantle and write a new manifesto that will earn its place in history. After all, it’s high time for another revolution.
It's only fitting that the oldest manifesto in this article references the future, as it remains a revolutionary concept to this day.
Written by Italian poet and artist F.T. Marinetti, this manifesto called for a radical break from traditional storytelling. It embraced speed, energy, and modern technology, rejecting the sentimental and theatrical elements of early cinema. Futurist filmmakers aimed to create a “cinema of dynamism,” full of unexpected shocks and rapid motion. While short-lived as a movement, its influence can be seen in later avant-garde and experimental films. Its most notable film, Vita Futurista, is sadly lost media.
Jumping forward in time to another break from traditional storytelling.
André Breton and the Surrealists saw film as the perfect medium to unlock the unconscious mind. Their manifesto called for a rejection of logic and rationality, instead championing dreamlike imagery, disjointed narratives, and an embrace of the irrational. Films like Un Chien Andalou (1929) by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí embodied this manifesto.
At the same time, in a different place, another group of filmmakers had an opposite idea.
Soviet filmmaker Dziga Vertov took the camera beyond storytelling, declaring that film should serve as an objective, truth-seeking eye. His Kino-Eye method rejected theatrical performances, advocating for real-life, unstaged footage that captured the essence of everyday existence.
Soviet filmmakers such as Sergei Eisenstein and Lev Kuleshov expanded on this, championing the theory of montage; juxtaposing images to create new meanings. This can be seen in the 1919 short The Kuleshov Effect, for example.
Is there something in the water in the Mediterranean Sea? First the Italians, then the Spaniards, and now the French are denouncing traditional storytelling.
French artist Isidore Isou proposed a radical cinema that deconstructed language and narrative, breaking films down to their raw materials: sound and image. Lettrist cinema, a precursor to structural film movements, sought to free film from conventional storytelling, often resulting in fragmented, abstract works. His ideas are beautifully embodied in the 1951 film Traité de bave et d'éternité.
British filmmakers Lindsay Anderson, Karel Reisz, and others released this manifesto in response to the artificiality of mainstream British cinema. They demanded a socially conscious, documentary-style approach that depicted real people and real lives, as seen in the 1956 film Momma Don’t Allow. This movement laid the foundation for the British New Wave of the 1960s.
Speaking of the ’60s, we enter a period where politics and cultures are rapidly changing and intertwining. And when the world changes… so does cinema.
This manifesto, created by a group of artists, intellectuals, and political theorists, built on ideas from avant-garde movements like Surrealism and Dadaism, with a more Marxist tone. It critiqued art and cinema and called for art that would challenge capitalism and create a more revolutionary society. It rejected traditional narrative structures and encouraged participatory creation.
While not focused solely on cinema, one of the founding members, Guy Debord, was a filmmaker who embraced the manifesto in his work, such as La Société du spectacle. Jean-Luc Godard wasn’t a member of the SI himself, but his work is influenced by its ideas.
Not everything is happening in Europe. No!
Emerging in the 1960s, this movement sought to break away from Hollywood formulas and depict the struggles of the Brazilian people. Drawing on Italian Neorealism and French New Wave influences, it emphasized social consciousness and poetic realism.
Although there isn’t a clearly written manifesto, many consider Glauber Rocha’s text An Aesthetic of Hunger to be the de facto manifesto. In it, he expressed that poverty, oppression, and underdevelopment should be expressed through film, not hidden or romanticized. One of his films best depicting this is Terra em Transe.
“A camera in the hand and an idea in the head.”
Hollywood is targeted once more, as Jonas Mekas and his group of underground filmmakers declared war on Hollywood, advocating for an independent, personal, and experimental cinema. This manifesto helped foster the New York underground film scene and inspired later independent filmmakers. We could dedicate an essay to just this manifesto and the films it inspired, so for now, we’ll refrain from recommendations.
Also written in 1962 by Jonas Mekas, the Anthology Film Archives manifesto called for a new kind of film archive that prioritized the preservation and dissemination of experimental and independent cinema. It played a crucial role in shaping how avant-garde films were stored and studied.
“We don’t want false, polished, slick films—we prefer them rough, unpolished, but alive; we don’t want rosy films—we want them the color of blood.”
“The old cinema is dead. We believe in the new cinema.”
A group of young German filmmakers, including Alexander Kluge and Edgar Reitz, signed this declaration calling for a new wave of socially and politically engaged filmmaking, rejecting the commercial escapism of post-war German cinema.
The most important outcome of the Oberhausen Manifesto was the influential New German Cinema movement of the 1970s, which gave us Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Werner Herzog, and Wim Wenders, to name a few.
We declared Hollywood dead—now, enough about Europe.
Argentine filmmakers Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino envisioned a cinema that served as a revolutionary tool for oppressed peoples. Their manifesto rejected both Hollywood’s escapism and European auteurism, advocating for a militant, politically engaged filmmaking approach, as seen in La hora de los hornos (1968). Their ideas influenced radical and anti-colonial cinema worldwide.
Two years later, in 1971, Argentine filmmakers issued the Declaration of Principles of the Grupo Cine Liberación as a call to resist dominant modes of representation and respond to repressive political climates. It aligned closely with the Third Cinema movement.
To take a break from a male-dominated industry, it’s important to shine a light on an essay from Claire Johnston, titled Women’s Cinema as Counter-Cinema.
Johnston’s manifesto argued that mainstream cinema perpetuated patriarchal ideology and called for a feminist counter-cinema. This idea helped fuel feminist film criticism and inspired a wave of women filmmakers to challenge the status quo. Think Chantal Akerman, Laura Mulvey, and Sally Potter.
Johnston argued that Hollywood cinema constructs mythic images of women as mother, whore, or angel, serving to reinforce patriarchal ideology. These images are not reflections of reality, but tools of cultural control. She emphasized that simply reversing roles isn’t radical unless the underlying ideological structures are also challenged.
Skipping straight to the ’80s, where Nick Zedd, a key figure in New York’s underground film scene, tore apart moral and artistic conventions. With his Cinema of Transgression, he championed a subversive, no-holds-barred approach to filmmaking. Manhattan Love Suicides (1985) epitomizes the movement with its taboo subjects, low-budget aesthetic, and raw, provocative content.
You knew it was coming… Perhaps one of the most famous modern manifestos, Dogme 95 was created by Danish filmmakers Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. Their Vow of Chastity rejected big-budget special effects, artificial lighting, and contrived narratives, instead promoting raw, stripped-down filmmaking. This movement revitalized interest in minimalist, vérité-style storytelling, as seen in Festen (1998) and Idioterne(1998).
Lastly, we go back to South America once more.
This manifesto promotes a low-budget, DIY filmmaking ethos, particularly for marginalized voices. Sleep Dealer (2008) is an example from the source, manifesto author Alex Rivera. Drawing on rasquache aesthetics—a Chicano artistic sensibility that celebrates resourcefulness and improvisation—it encourages filmmakers to create with whatever is at hand, resisting the constraints of the film industry. A message that we would like to pass forward to our filmmaking readers.
Each of these manifestos represents a moment in film history when artists refused to conform and instead sought to reinvent cinema on their own terms. Some were movements that lasted decades, while others were brief but explosive statements that continue to influence filmmakers today. Of course, these aren’t the only manifestos out there. Revolutions come and go. Is there a manifesto that we shouldn’t have left out of the conversation?
And what’s next? Are manifestos still relevant in today’s digital landscape? Maybe the next great cinematic movement will be born in an online forum, a TikTok trend, or a self-published zine. Either way, the tradition of shaking things up in film isn’t going anywhere. The only question: Who will write it?
What would a manifesto in current times have to say? Let’s keep the conversation going, reach out, and let your words be the spark for the next revolution in cinema!
For its fourth edition I got the chance to write about an interesting subject... Manifestos!
Read my article below and check out Cinedome on its website here!
Last Cinedome edition, we embarked on a journey through the zines that came before us; how they shaped the industry and brought to light important voices and subjects. We briefly touched upon manifestos, but now it’s time to dedicate an essay to them in the same manner.
Manifestos are the embodiment of innovation in our industry. They have long been a call to arms for filmmakers and critics alike to declare their intentions and challenge conventions. These manifestos were often written by pioneers of a movement who meant to shake up the world of cinema with bold statements, too long unspoken.
We’ll start this important history lesson with one of the pioneers of film manifestos and slowly travel to the now and… the future? Who knows, afterwards it might feel like time for you to pick up the mantle and write a new manifesto that will earn its place in history. After all, it’s high time for another revolution.
The Futurist Cinema Manifesto (1916)
It's only fitting that the oldest manifesto in this article references the future, as it remains a revolutionary concept to this day.
Written by Italian poet and artist F.T. Marinetti, this manifesto called for a radical break from traditional storytelling. It embraced speed, energy, and modern technology, rejecting the sentimental and theatrical elements of early cinema. Futurist filmmakers aimed to create a “cinema of dynamism,” full of unexpected shocks and rapid motion. While short-lived as a movement, its influence can be seen in later avant-garde and experimental films. Its most notable film, Vita Futurista, is sadly lost media.
The Surrealist Film Manifesto (1924)
Jumping forward in time to another break from traditional storytelling.
André Breton and the Surrealists saw film as the perfect medium to unlock the unconscious mind. Their manifesto called for a rejection of logic and rationality, instead championing dreamlike imagery, disjointed narratives, and an embrace of the irrational. Films like Un Chien Andalou (1929) by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí embodied this manifesto.
The Kino-Eye Manifesto (1924)
At the same time, in a different place, another group of filmmakers had an opposite idea.
Soviet filmmaker Dziga Vertov took the camera beyond storytelling, declaring that film should serve as an objective, truth-seeking eye. His Kino-Eye method rejected theatrical performances, advocating for real-life, unstaged footage that captured the essence of everyday existence.
Soviet filmmakers such as Sergei Eisenstein and Lev Kuleshov expanded on this, championing the theory of montage; juxtaposing images to create new meanings. This can be seen in the 1919 short The Kuleshov Effect, for example.
The Lettrist Manifesto (1947)
Is there something in the water in the Mediterranean Sea? First the Italians, then the Spaniards, and now the French are denouncing traditional storytelling.
French artist Isidore Isou proposed a radical cinema that deconstructed language and narrative, breaking films down to their raw materials: sound and image. Lettrist cinema, a precursor to structural film movements, sought to free film from conventional storytelling, often resulting in fragmented, abstract works. His ideas are beautifully embodied in the 1951 film Traité de bave et d'éternité.
The Free Cinema Manifesto (1956)
British filmmakers Lindsay Anderson, Karel Reisz, and others released this manifesto in response to the artificiality of mainstream British cinema. They demanded a socially conscious, documentary-style approach that depicted real people and real lives, as seen in the 1956 film Momma Don’t Allow. This movement laid the foundation for the British New Wave of the 1960s.
Speaking of the ’60s, we enter a period where politics and cultures are rapidly changing and intertwining. And when the world changes… so does cinema.
The Situationist International Manifesto (1960)
This manifesto, created by a group of artists, intellectuals, and political theorists, built on ideas from avant-garde movements like Surrealism and Dadaism, with a more Marxist tone. It critiqued art and cinema and called for art that would challenge capitalism and create a more revolutionary society. It rejected traditional narrative structures and encouraged participatory creation.
While not focused solely on cinema, one of the founding members, Guy Debord, was a filmmaker who embraced the manifesto in his work, such as La Société du spectacle. Jean-Luc Godard wasn’t a member of the SI himself, but his work is influenced by its ideas.
The Brazilian Cinema Novo Manifesto (1960s)
Not everything is happening in Europe. No!
Emerging in the 1960s, this movement sought to break away from Hollywood formulas and depict the struggles of the Brazilian people. Drawing on Italian Neorealism and French New Wave influences, it emphasized social consciousness and poetic realism.
Although there isn’t a clearly written manifesto, many consider Glauber Rocha’s text An Aesthetic of Hunger to be the de facto manifesto. In it, he expressed that poverty, oppression, and underdevelopment should be expressed through film, not hidden or romanticized. One of his films best depicting this is Terra em Transe.
“A camera in the hand and an idea in the head.”
The New American Cinema Manifesto (1962)
Hollywood is targeted once more, as Jonas Mekas and his group of underground filmmakers declared war on Hollywood, advocating for an independent, personal, and experimental cinema. This manifesto helped foster the New York underground film scene and inspired later independent filmmakers. We could dedicate an essay to just this manifesto and the films it inspired, so for now, we’ll refrain from recommendations.
Also written in 1962 by Jonas Mekas, the Anthology Film Archives manifesto called for a new kind of film archive that prioritized the preservation and dissemination of experimental and independent cinema. It played a crucial role in shaping how avant-garde films were stored and studied.
“We don’t want false, polished, slick films—we prefer them rough, unpolished, but alive; we don’t want rosy films—we want them the color of blood.”
The Oberhausen Manifesto (1962)
“The old cinema is dead. We believe in the new cinema.”
A group of young German filmmakers, including Alexander Kluge and Edgar Reitz, signed this declaration calling for a new wave of socially and politically engaged filmmaking, rejecting the commercial escapism of post-war German cinema.
The most important outcome of the Oberhausen Manifesto was the influential New German Cinema movement of the 1970s, which gave us Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Werner Herzog, and Wim Wenders, to name a few.
The Third Cinema Manifesto (1969)
We declared Hollywood dead—now, enough about Europe.
Argentine filmmakers Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino envisioned a cinema that served as a revolutionary tool for oppressed peoples. Their manifesto rejected both Hollywood’s escapism and European auteurism, advocating for a militant, politically engaged filmmaking approach, as seen in La hora de los hornos (1968). Their ideas influenced radical and anti-colonial cinema worldwide.
Two years later, in 1971, Argentine filmmakers issued the Declaration of Principles of the Grupo Cine Liberación as a call to resist dominant modes of representation and respond to repressive political climates. It aligned closely with the Third Cinema movement.
The Feminist Film Manifesto (1973)
To take a break from a male-dominated industry, it’s important to shine a light on an essay from Claire Johnston, titled Women’s Cinema as Counter-Cinema.
Johnston’s manifesto argued that mainstream cinema perpetuated patriarchal ideology and called for a feminist counter-cinema. This idea helped fuel feminist film criticism and inspired a wave of women filmmakers to challenge the status quo. Think Chantal Akerman, Laura Mulvey, and Sally Potter.
Johnston argued that Hollywood cinema constructs mythic images of women as mother, whore, or angel, serving to reinforce patriarchal ideology. These images are not reflections of reality, but tools of cultural control. She emphasized that simply reversing roles isn’t radical unless the underlying ideological structures are also challenged.
The Cinema of Transgression Manifesto (1985)
Skipping straight to the ’80s, where Nick Zedd, a key figure in New York’s underground film scene, tore apart moral and artistic conventions. With his Cinema of Transgression, he championed a subversive, no-holds-barred approach to filmmaking. Manhattan Love Suicides (1985) epitomizes the movement with its taboo subjects, low-budget aesthetic, and raw, provocative content.
The Dogme 95 Manifesto (1995)
You knew it was coming… Perhaps one of the most famous modern manifestos, Dogme 95 was created by Danish filmmakers Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. Their Vow of Chastity rejected big-budget special effects, artificial lighting, and contrived narratives, instead promoting raw, stripped-down filmmaking. This movement revitalized interest in minimalist, vérité-style storytelling, as seen in Festen (1998) and Idioterne(1998).
Revolución Rasquache: A Manifesto for the Guerrilla Filmmaker (2008)
Lastly, we go back to South America once more.
This manifesto promotes a low-budget, DIY filmmaking ethos, particularly for marginalized voices. Sleep Dealer (2008) is an example from the source, manifesto author Alex Rivera. Drawing on rasquache aesthetics—a Chicano artistic sensibility that celebrates resourcefulness and improvisation—it encourages filmmakers to create with whatever is at hand, resisting the constraints of the film industry. A message that we would like to pass forward to our filmmaking readers.
What’s Next?
Each of these manifestos represents a moment in film history when artists refused to conform and instead sought to reinvent cinema on their own terms. Some were movements that lasted decades, while others were brief but explosive statements that continue to influence filmmakers today. Of course, these aren’t the only manifestos out there. Revolutions come and go. Is there a manifesto that we shouldn’t have left out of the conversation?
And what’s next? Are manifestos still relevant in today’s digital landscape? Maybe the next great cinematic movement will be born in an online forum, a TikTok trend, or a self-published zine. Either way, the tradition of shaking things up in film isn’t going anywhere. The only question: Who will write it?
What would a manifesto in current times have to say? Let’s keep the conversation going, reach out, and let your words be the spark for the next revolution in cinema!