{"id":2026,"date":"2011-09-16T09:00:50","date_gmt":"2011-09-16T09:00:50","guid":{"rendered":"\/?p=2026"},"modified":"2019-04-25T13:47:54","modified_gmt":"2019-04-25T13:47:54","slug":"drive-2011","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/?p=2026","title":{"rendered":"Drive, 2011"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Plot<\/strong>: Los Angeles, the present. Driver is a mechanic at a stock-car garage owned by his friend Shannon. He takes a phlegmatic approach to the two moonlighting jobs usually arranged for him by Shannon \u2013 doing stunts for movies and as a getaway driver for local robbers. Shannon has ambitions to set up a stock-car racing team utilising Driver\u2019s skills; he negotiates for a sizeable loan from financier Rose, at the pizzeria run by Nino (real name Izzy), who is later revealed as a bitter and volatile would-be mafioso. Driver\u2019s casual meetings with his neighbour Irene and her young son lead to a growing attachment to the pair and a motive for helping when Irene\u2019s husband Standard, newly released from jail, is forced to take part in a raid on a pawnshop. The raid goes wrong and Standard is killed. After being chased by unidentified pursuers, Driver gets away with the bag containing a large amount of cash. Driver correctly guesses that it is drug money Driver intercepts one of Izzy\u2019s henchmen tailing Irene; to her shock, he violently attacks him. Rose, in a separate incident, also reveals his violent capacities, spearing a fork into the eye of another of Izzy\u2019s men. Driver tails Izzy\u2019s car, forcing him off the coast road and drowning him in the sea. Realising that the money belongs to Rose, Driver arranges a meeting where the two fight and Rose dies (Hammond 2011).<\/p>\n<p><strong>Film note <\/strong><em>Drive <\/em>began life under the aegis of Universal Studios. In 2008, Universal allocated an adaptation of James Sallis\u2019s pulp crime novel <em>Drive<\/em> a $60m budget. Neil Marshall was set to direct and Hugh Jackman was billed to play the lead. After two, silent years, however, Marc Platt took up the project, and <em>Drive <\/em>became wholly independent. In the end, the film was produced by a host of independent companies to the sum of $15m. Indeed, Platt\u2019s intervention proved critical across the board. He convinced Ryan Gosling, by this time a rising star, to act in <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s central role. In turn, Gosling recruited Nicolas Winding Refn, who, as a Danish director at work mostly in Europe, was a relative unknown in the United States. <em>Drive <\/em>achieved commercial success and wholesale praise, taking $76.2m worldwide, a commendable yield of roughly 500 per cent, and won Refn the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival in 2011. <em>Drive <\/em>is multi-layered: its script bears the marks of multiple production studios and contrasting sensibilities and its aesthetic points towards aspects of independent film practice, though its narrative aligns it with mainstream genre film-making. In its form, history and content, it straddles popular cinema and the independent margins. The film note explores <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s palimpsestic nature, honing in especially on issues related to independent filmmaking and the film noir genre.<\/p>\n<p><strong>On Hollywood\u2019s margin <\/strong>In <em>Indiewood <\/em>(2009), Geoff King analyses the intersections between Hollywood and US independent cinema. Centrally, King argues for an interstitial territory \u2013 \u201cIndiewood\u201d (2009, 1) \u2013 that is populated by the major studios\u2019 specialist divisions, such as Fox Searchlight Pictures, and major productions that espouse an independent aesthetic whilst avoiding challenging, countercultural perspectives. As King notes, the attraction of these films stems from their ability to \u201ccrossover from niche to [\u2026] larger audiences\u201d (2007, 59). They also do particularly well on the festival circuit, thereby garnering prestige for the studios. That said, independent companies also target Indiewood, and thus a wider mainstream market (2009, 9). In order to enhance their mainstream palatability, \u201cindie [films] often [embrace] hybrid forms that draw on a number of different inheritances, including those associated with [independent practice] and more mainstream narrative feature traditions.\u201d (2009, 9).<\/p>\n<p><em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s narrative, form and style indexes the push-and-pull between independence and the mainstream. With this in mind, it is not unreasonable to suggest that <em>Drive <\/em>has been created with full awareness of the lucrative potential that comes with bridging the gap. For example, <em>Drive <\/em>incorporates various formal techniques indicative of an independent sensibility, such as the long, drawn out cinematography and static compositions of Slow Cinema; the rejection of spectacle, and the representation of action as an insular, implosive event typical of Ingmar Bergman\u2019s work, as in <em>The Virgin Spring <\/em>(1960), and the use of editing practices that problematize narrative storytelling, such as jump cuts.<\/p>\n<p>Towards the mainstream, Katerina Korola and Laura Shamas have noted how <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s narrative replicates the chivalric romance of high medieval poetry, with its characters falling in line with millennia old archetypes: a fact that renders <em>Drive <\/em>easily palatable to a majority of Western viewers. <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s marketing also reflects attempts to attract a mainstream audience. Arguably, the descriptions of <em>Drive<\/em> as \u2018A Blood Pumping Thrill Ride\u2019 that adorned its posters helped to package it as an action film, over and against a sparse independent production. As Korola and Shamas point out, this reading came to dominate; despite the film\u2019s formal characteristics and its \u201cexplor[ation] of the medieval European concept of courtly love, [<em>Drive<\/em>] was widely reviewed as an action-thriller\u201d (239).<\/p>\n<p><strong>Clutching hands, sadistic villains <\/strong>Ultimately, however, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s mainstream appeal stems from its relationship to the noir genre. Though often an uneasy contention \u2013 Steve Neale laments that \u201cnearly every crime thriller made in Hollywood is [\u2026] automatically labeled as noir or [\u2026] neo-noir\u201d (309) \u2013 <em>Drive<\/em> certainly employs a host of noirish codes and conventions. Crucially, for example, it is an adaptation of a pulp crime novel. In terms of its basic elements, moreover, <em>Drive <\/em>is set on the streets of Los Angeles and low-level crime and corruption are a constitutive feature. Driver also becomes entangled with a married woman: a relationship that pushes him into a violent, downwards spiral. Additionally, at a thematic level <em>Drive <\/em>foregrounds masculine identity\u2019s turbulent nature and the easiness with which sexual desire spills over into transgressive action.<\/p>\n<p>Foster Hirsch notes that noir\u2019s classification as a genre was retroactive, \u201capplied first by [\u2026] French cineastes who [noticed a] dark tone in a group of American crime films released in France at the end of World War II\u201d (2). Concerning its origin, Paul Schrader suggests that noir arose out of the tensions and anxieties concomitant with the troubles of the war and the wholesale disillusionment prevalent in popular culture in the United States after its end (54). Similarly, Jane Root points to the stagnation that surfaced after the plateau of the \u201c1930s [\u2026] upwardly mobile thrust\u201d (305). Evidently, then, the \u201cclutching hands, [\u2026] sadistic villains, and heroines tormented with [\u2026] diseases of the mind\u201d (305) that came to define the genre were a direct result of the concerns that wracked the United States in the post-war era.<\/p>\n<p>Given noir\u2019s historical specificity, the emergence of later films that espoused notably noirish sensibilities came to be classified as neo-noir. In <em>Moving Targets and Black Widows<\/em>, Leighton Grist outlined a taxonomy of neo-noir, boiling the subgenre down into three groups: modern, modernist and postmodern. Modern neo-noirs, such as <em>Chinatown <\/em>(1974), retain noir\u2019s essential characteristics, though update its mise-en-sc\u00e8ne into a modern environment. Modernist neo-noirs, like <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, on the other hand, interrogate the \u201cideological assumptions\u201d that underpin the noir genre (Grist 276). For Grist, this modernist reworking indexes wider ideological concerns, thus bearing a critical impetus. Conversely, postmodern neo-noirs, such as <em>Blade Runner <\/em>(1982), embody noir at an exclusively stylistic level, eschewing its critical potential. Replete with \u201creferences [that] are gestural rather than operative,\u201d (275) postmodern neo-noir is characterised by a \u201cself-conscious [\u2026] superficial[ity],\u201d (272) or a \u201cgeneric referen[tiality] that is not that of parody\u2014which [defines] the reflexiveness of modernist noir\u2014but pastiche\u201d (272).<\/p>\n<p>Arguably, <em>Drive <\/em>functions as a postmodern neo-noir. Its superficial-over-critical use of noirish themes, images and forms serves to render a modernist, countercultural force inoperative, helping to make its otherwise troubling content agreeable to the status quo and securing its status as an Indiewood text. In comparison with <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s postmodern divergence from neo-noir\u2019s modernist branch is apparent. <em>Taxi Driver <\/em>is grounded in the social and political anxieties that gripped the US through the 1960s and 1970s. Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro), <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>\u2019s protagonist, is a Vietnam veteran who, upon returning to New York, struggles to navigate the city. Bickle\u2019s disturbed, \u201cbaffled perception\u201d (Hirsch 235) metaphorically cites the frayed nature of the nation\u2019s social fabric after the Vietnam War. <em>Drive<\/em>, on the other hand, bears no relation to any particular historical context. The retro synth-pop soundtrack pulls it back and forwards in time, and its myriad array of cars \u2013 vital, foregrounded elements in the film \u2013 spans Ford\u2019s 1955 Thunderbird, the 1968 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado and a 2011 Ford Mustang, amongst others. Unlike <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, then, and indicative of postmodern neo-noir, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s \u201csetting, d\u00e9cor, and dress place the action in an indeterminate temporal realm,\u201d (Grist 285) and destabilize one\u2019s ability to link its mise-en-sc\u00e8ne to any particular time period or ideological epoch.<\/p>\n<p>Tellingly, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s critical response was peppered with allusions to its relationship with noir <em>and <\/em>its nature as context-severed, eclectic pastiche. Mark Adams described <em>Drive <\/em>as a \u201cmagnificent homage to US crime films from the late 1970s and 1980s,\u201d whilst conferring on its cinematography a \u201ctimeless quality.\u201d Further, Sukhdev Sandhu called it a \u201cmasterpiece of surface over depth,\u201d a \u201ctime collapse\u201d; \u201cretromania at its best \u2013 or at its self-conscious worst.\u201d For Nigel Andrews, it was \u201call style and no soul.\u201d Certainly, it is difficult to locate any critical agenda whatsoever in <em>Drive<\/em>. This effect is heightened by the fact that Driver, and the film as a whole, lacks a back story. Comparatively, in <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, Bickle\u2019s ultraviolent outbursts are rooted in his military past and function as necessary reactions to the wholesale corruption that has undermined the moral rectitude of Vietnam-era New York. Driver, on by contrast, is a nameless anti-hero without a past. Because of this, his extreme, calculated violence \u2013 stamping through an assailant\u2019s head, inserting a pole into the throat of another \u2013 refuses to index any wider, extratextual issues, or the character\u2019s constituent, psychological makeup.<\/p>\n<p>Indeed, Refn has mentioned that he \u201cwanted [Driver] to be [\u2026] an enigma [\u2026]\u201d (Harris). In order to achieve this, \u201cspecific reasons [that underpinned] the way he was [were avoided] because then he would [have] los[t] his mythological qualities.\u201d (Harris) This choice was in stark contrast to Sallis\u2019s novel which took great care to undergird Driver\u2019s character with a traumatic past. In this constellation, Driver\u2019s exceptional violence does not possess a referent, thus retaining an unfathomable, enigmatic quality. Because of this, it functions as a superficial element and a feature of <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s style over-and-against a conduit of critique. This helps to render the violence acceptable, instead of repulsive. Given the thematic vacuum in which they occur, the violent scenes, all of which are predominantly shot in slow motion, are intended to be appreciated for how they look, not for what they are saying. Ultimately, then, Refn\u2019s direct manipulation of Driver\u2019s character serves to anaesthetise <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s most difficult content, repackaging sequences that might be expected to challenge the norm into a structure that enables them to be assimilated into general, mainstream circulation.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Bloodbaths and psychosis<\/strong> However, a claim can be made for <em>Drive<\/em> having some progressive qualities. Driver\u2019s character is marked by an interchangeability between delicacy and brutality and in this the film breaks with the paradigmatic form of masculinity normally associated with film noir. This precarious duality is sustained through the intersecting features of Gosling\u2019s star persona and acting style. Prior to <em>Drive<\/em>, Gosling was best known for romantic films, such as in <em>The Notebook <\/em>(2004) and <em>Blue Valentine <\/em>(2010). In terms of <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s diegesis, moreover, Driver personifies a non-conventional structure of noirish masculinity. For example, despite Driver\u2019s simmering relationship to Irene, <em>Drive <\/em>features no sex and their relationship is restricted to quiet, intimate scenes in which Driver cares for both Irene and Benicio, her young son .This frames their romance as platonic and reflects Driver\u2019s desire for commitment and family over-and-against sexual fulfilment. Indeed, Sacha Orenstein has pointed to these scenes as the moments through which Driver\u2019s \u201csaint-like compassion\u201d is developed. Additionally, Shamas touched on Driver\u2019s and Irene\u2019s chaste romance as the vehicle through which Driver\u2019s knightly persona is cemented, with \u201c[t]he ardor of unconsummated passion [underscoring] the devotion of [Driver\u2019s] altruistic service.\u201d (240) To be sure, Driver kisses Irene only after Standard\u2019s death and thus Irene\u2019s symbolic divorce.<\/p>\n<p>Going further, <em>Drive <\/em>does not possess a sexualised, noirish <em>femme fatale <\/em>archetype, which is the central character around which most noirs spin. Rather, it features the <em>femme<\/em> <em>fatale<\/em>\u2019s stock antithesis, which is the homely, \u201cdomesticating woman who [\u2026] threat[ens] the male protagonist\u201d (Neale 310) with her unmanly impulse. However, the fact that Driver achieves masculine fulfilment through Irene \u2013 he confidently kills to defend and protect her \u2013 troubles her archetypal role as emasculating. It also highlights Driver\u2019s constituent effeminacy. Irene\u2019s arrival does not sunder his masculinity because his masculinity is malleable and fluid; it already holds the potential for delicacy, domesticity and effeminacy.<\/p>\n<p>Evidently, questions of masculine identity are at the heart of <em>Drive<\/em>. Typical of film noir, it represents a masculinity that strides between romantic desire, \u201cpsychotic action, and suicidal impulse\u201d (Martin 81). Mirroring <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, Driver\u2019s psychotic deterioration into savage action occurs during its violent sequences. However, a central difference separates the two representations. In <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, the closing violent sequence is set in motion by the female protagonist, Iris (Jodie Foster). In <em>Drive<\/em>, on the other hand, the violent sequences are mobilised by men, thus destablising the noir woman\u2019s canonical function as the catalyst of male destruction. Regarding <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>, moreover, Hirsch suggests that Travis, in his inability to achieve intercourse with a woman, finds sexual fulfilment in <em>Taxi Driver<\/em>\u2019s iconic shootout, or \u201corgasmic bloodbath\u201d (236), thereby grounding his aggression in his isolation from, and distance to, women. In <em>Drive<\/em>, conversely, Driver, upon realising that Irene is under threat, passionately kisses her and seizes her assailant before killing him by stamping through his head. Here, the violent act collapses the distance between Driver and Irene, bringing them closer and thus destabilizing the negative relationship between men, women and violence in film noir.<\/p>\n<p>Ultimately, this serves to sever the negative link between women and psychotic masculine violence in film noir. In this sense, <em>Drive <\/em>repositions noirish masculinity and femininity along a more progressive line. Indeed, Gosling\u2019s diegetic descent into psychotic action does not wholly stem from sexual frustration, or the presence of a corrupting <em>femme fatale<\/em>. As a star, moreover, Gosling does not fulfil a masculine archetype, though he does overcome a host of distinctly masculine characters through sheer, unbridled aggression. In other words, Gosling\u2019s \u2018effeminate\u2019 brand of masculinity outstrips that of Bernie and Nino, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s dominant gangster figures and the fictional counterparts of the more stereotypically masculine Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman, respectively.<\/p>\n<p>That said, <em>Drive<\/em>\u2019s progressivism is undermined by its refusal to offer a bold, fully-fleshed countercultural message, its tendency towards superficiality and its concessions to the mainstream. In this, it fits within a wider cycle that includes <em>Looper <\/em>(2012), a film that blends science fiction, noir and crime thriller elements, <em>Brick <\/em>(2005), a pastiche ridden, teenage view on the noirish detective caper, <em>Safety Not Guaranteed <\/em>(2012), a contemporary revision of the hopeful science fiction films of the 1980s, and <em>Sin City <\/em>(2005), an ultra-stylish, patchwork amalgam unified by its noirish overtones. With <em>Looper <\/em>garnering $176.5m worldwide, <em>Sin City <\/em>$158.8m and <em>Brick <\/em>$3.9m from a budget of $500,000, the benefits that come with crossing over are plain to see. Undoubtedly, however, Hollywood has also harvested the rewards that come with appealing to the independent sphere. Certainly, with firm successes in <em>Juno <\/em>(2007) and <em>(500) Days of Summer <\/em>(2009), and with <em>The Silver Linings Playbook <\/em>(2012) and <em>Django Unchained <\/em>(2012) on the horizon, this trend looks healthy and shows no signs of stopping.<\/p>\n<p><strong>References<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Adams, Mark. \u201cDrive.\u201d <em>Screen Daily<\/em>. 20 May 2011. Web. 20 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>Andrews, Nigel. \u201cDrive.\u201d <em>Financial Times<\/em>. 22 Sep. 2011. Web. 20 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>French, Philip. \u201cSilver Linings Playbook \u2013 Review.\u201d <em>The Observer<\/em>. 25 Nov. 2012. Web. 20 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>Grist, Leighton. \u201cMoving Targets and Black Widows: Film Noir in Modern Hollywood.\u201d <em>The Movie Book of Film Noir<\/em>. Ed. Ian Cameron. London: Studio Vista, 1992. 267-285. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Hammond, Wally. \u201cFilm review: Drive.\u201d <em>Sight and Sound<\/em>, 21.10 (2011): 60-61. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Harris, Brandon. \u201cNicolas Winding Refn, Drive.\u201d <em>Filmmaker Magazine<\/em>. 14 Sep. 2011. Web. 6 Dec. 2012.<\/p>\n<p>Hirsch, Foster. <em>Detours and Lost Highways: A Map of Neo-Noir. <\/em>New York: Limelight Editions, 1999. Print.<\/p>\n<p>King, Geoff. <em>Indiewood, USA: Where Hollywood Meets Independent Cinema<\/em>. New York: I.B. Tauris, 2009. Print.<\/p>\n<p>King, Geoff. \u201cThe Major Independents.\u201d <em>The Cinema Book<\/em>, 3<sup>rd<\/sup> edition. Ed. Pam Cook. London: British Film Institute, 2007. 54-60. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Korola, Katerina. \u201cThe Driver Errant: A Critical Evaluation of Drive and \u201cNew\u201d Masculinity.\u201d <em>Offscreen<\/em>, vol. 17, no. 3, 2013. Web. 16 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>Martin, Richard. <em>Mean Streets and Raging Bulls: The Legacy of Film Noir in Contemporary American Cinema<\/em>. Lanham: Scarecrow Press, 1997. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Neale, Steve. \u201cNoir and Neo-Noir.\u201d <em>The Cinema Book<\/em>, 3<sup>rd<\/sup> edition. Ed. Pam Cook. London: British Film Institute, 2007. 309-315. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Orenstein, Sacha. \u201cThe Gangster Archetypes of Nicholas Refn.\u201d <em>Offscreen<\/em>, vol. 17, no. 3, 2013. Web. 16 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>Root, Jane. \u201cFilm Noir.\u201d <em>The Cinema Book<\/em>, 3<sup>rd<\/sup> edition. Ed. Pam Cook. London: British Film Institute, 2007. 305-308. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Sallis, James. <em>Drive<\/em>. Scottsdale, AZ: Poisoned Pen Press, 2005. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Sandhu, Sukhdev. \u201cDrive, review.\u201d <em>The Telegraph. <\/em>30 Oct. 2014. Web. 19 Jan. 2019.<\/p>\n<p>Schrader, Paul. \u201cNotes on Film Noir.\u201d <em>Film Noir Reader<\/em>. Ed. Alain Silver &amp; James Ursini. Newark, New Jersey: Limelight Editions, 1996. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Shamas, Laura. \u201cFilm Review: Drive (2011).\u201d <em>Psychological Perspectives<\/em>, 56.2 (2013): 239-242. Print.<\/p>\n<p>Quick, Matthew. <em>The Silver Linings Playbook<\/em>. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. Print.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Written by Elisabeth Kate Marks (2013),<\/strong> <strong>edited by Christian Dymond (2019), Queen Mary, University of London<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This article may be used free of charge. Please obtain permission before redistributing. Selling without prior written consent is prohibited. In all cases this notice must remain intact.<\/p>\n<p>Copyright \u00a9 2013 Elisabeth Kate Marks\/Mapping Contemporary Cinema<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Production Companies: Bold Films, Odd Lot Entertainment, Marc Platt Productions, Motel Movies<br \/>\nDistribution: Film District<br \/>\nExecutive Producers: Bill Lischak, David Lancaster, Gary Michael Walters, Jeffrey Stott, Linda McDonough, Peter Schlessel<br \/>\nProducers: John Palermo, Adam Siegel, Michel Litvak, Gigi Pritzker, Marc Platt<br \/>\nScreenplay: Hossein Amini, based on James Sallis\u2019s novel, Drive (2005)<br \/>\nDirector: Nicholas Winding Refn<br \/>\nCinematography: Newton Thomas Sigel<br \/>\nEditor: Matthew Newman<br \/>\nMusic: Cliff Martinez<br \/>\nRunning Time: 103 mins.<br \/>\nClassification: Rated R for brutal bloody violence, language and some nudity.<br \/>\nBox-office gross: domestic $35.1m\/worldwide $76.1m<br \/>\nTagline: There Are No Clean Getaways<br \/>\nCast: Ryan Gosling (Driver), Carey Mulligan (Irene), Bryan Cranston (Shannon), Albert Brooks (Bernie Rose), Oscar Isaac (Standard), Christina Hendricks (Blanche), Ron Perlman (Nino), Kaden Leos (Benicio) <a href=\"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/?p=2026\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2029,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[203,266,191,57,11],"class_list":["post-2026","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-film-note","tag-203","tag-crime-film","tag-indiewood","tag-postmodernism","tag-us"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2026","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2026"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2026\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2033,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2026\/revisions\/2033"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2029"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2026"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2026"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mcc.sllf.qmul.ac.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2026"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}