Having recalled this, and having taken this precaution as a matter of principle, I am not doing what one ought to do and cannot do it with you in a seminar. I cannot do all that again with you here for at least two reasons, as I was saying. The one has to do with the obvious lack of time: it would take us years. The other, less obvious, is that I also believe in the necessity, sometimes, in a seminar the work of which is not simply reading, in the necessity, and even the fecundity, when I’m optimistic and confident, of a certain number of leaps, certain new perspectives from a turn in the text, from a stretch of path that gives you another view of the whole, like, for example, when you’re driving a car on a mountain road, a hairpin or a turn, an abrupt and precipitous elevation suddenly gives you in an instant a new perspective on the whole, or a large part of the itinerary or of what orients, designs, or destines it. And here there intervene not only each person’s reading-idioms, with their history, their way of driving (it goes without saying that each of my choices and my perspectives depends broadly here, as I will never try to hide, on my history, my previous work, my way of driving, driving on this read, on my drives, desires and phantasms, even if I always try to make them both intelligible, shareable, convincing and open to discussion) [here there intervene, not only each person’s reading-idioms, with their history, their way of driving] in the mountains or on the flat, on dirt roads or on highways, following this or that map, this or that route, but also the crossing, the decision already taken and imposed by you by fiat as soon as it was proposed to you, to read a given seminar by Heidegger and Robinson Crusoe, i.e., two discourses also on the way and on the path which can multiply perspectives from which two vehicles can light up, their headlights crossing, the overall cartography and the landscape in which we are traveling and driving together, driving on all these paths interlaced, intercut, overloaded with bridges, fords, no entries or one-way streets, etc.

Jacques Derrida, The Beast and the Sovereign, Vol. 2, (2012) 206

TENTATIVE SCHEDULE:

First Day: Opening Sequence of Marathon Man

Sigmund Freud, Three Essays on Sexuality

Sigmund Freud, Beyond the Pleasure Principle

Jacques Derrida, "To Speculate--On 'Freud'" in The Post Card, 257-409

Avital Ronell, The Test Drive

Drive

Taxi Driver

The Phantom Carriage

Wild Strawberries

Detour

Derrida’s “auto”biography

For this very reason, you will excuse me for beginning so very close to myself.
By accident, and sometimes on the brink of an accident, I find myself writing without seeing.  Not with my eyes closed, to be sure, but open an disoriented in the night; or else during the day, my eyes fixed on something else, while looking elsewhere, in front of me, for example, when at the wheel:  I then scribble with my right hand a few squiggly lines on a piece of paper attached to the dashboard or lying on the seat beside me.  Sometimes, still without seeing, on the steering wheel itself. These notations—unreadable graffiti—are for memory; one would later think to be a ciphered writing.

--Jacques Derrida, Memoirs of the Blind: The Self-Portrait and Other Ruins. Trans. Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas.  Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1993, 3.

Sunset Boulevard

Carnival of Souls

Vertigo

Transporter 2

Wages of Fear

Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift

You better believe it [il faut croire]; I will have seen my share of late, it’s true. It’s all documented, I am not the only one who could witness it.  And so on July 11th I am healed (a feeling of conversion or resurrection, the eyelid blinking once again, my face haunted by a ghost of disfiguration).  We have our first meeting at the Louvre. The same evening while driving hoe, the theme of the exhibition hits me.  I scribble at the wheel a provisional title for my own use, to organize my notes: L’ouvre ou ne pas voir [The Open Where Not To See],* which becomes, upon my return, an icon, indeed a window to open on my computer.
*Note that L’ouvre is pronounced like “Louvre.” –Trans.
--Jacques Derrida, Memoirs of the Blind: The Self-Portrait and Other Ruins. Trans. Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas.  Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1993, 32-33.

The Vanishing (Dutch)

The Vanishing (U.S.) and Breakdown (dir. Jonathan Mostow, 1997)

Lost Highway

Premonition

Mulholland Drive

Final Destination

Final Destination 2

Bonnie and Clyde

The Driver (dir. Walter Hill)