Archive for the Mythology Category

The Easter Monday Intertitle: A Semple Plan

Posted in FILM, Mythology, Radio, Television with tags , , , on April 21, 2014 by dcairns

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Intertitle from ’70s teleplay The Disappearance of Aimee. I was excited to learn of the existence of a show where Faye Dunaway plays evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson, Bette Davis plays her old mum, and James Woods and Severn Darden fill out the cast. And that Anthony Harvey, implacable devotee of aging Hollywood divas, directed. And that it dealt with ASM’s mysterious 1926 disappearance.

Sadly, the piece is a stodgy courtroom drama, probably the dullest (but cheapest) approach to this story, and the mouthwatering cast spend all their time testifying in either a legal or religious sense. One is starved of scenes where actors actually converse, one to the other.

I was looking at the film as part of my latest SCHEME — a week dedicated to period movies from the 1970s New Hollywood. I’ve already had plenty of suggestions via Facebook, but I will readily accept MORE — I am probably excluding westerns, which are their own thing, and am more interested in stuff by the young directors of the period but would consider the likes of Elia Kazan’s THE LAST TYCOON as a possibility. Obviously I have a tendency to swing towards obscurities rather than celebrated jobs like CHINATOWN, but I make no rules up front…

The Easter Sunday Intertitle: God is Dead

Posted in FILM, Mythology, Politics with tags , , , on April 20, 2014 by dcairns

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“Father dies.” An intertitle from Elia Suleiman’s DIVINE INTERVENTION.

Remember, until tomorrow, when He resurrects, God is dead and we can all do what we like.

Meanwhile, over at The Chiseler, I look at Suleiman’s arresting film as part of a blogathon on the theme of Palestine, hosted both at The Chiseler and If Charlie Parker Were a Gunslinger…

Sutpen!

Matsui!

Chomsky!

Finkelstein!

Shapira!

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Attendant Woes

Posted in FILM, MUSIC, Mythology, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , , , on March 19, 2014 by dcairns

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Cinema will learn to talk soon, I promise, but for now I’m still mulling over films seen at the Hippodrome Festival of Silent Cinema.

THE LAST LAUGH is one I’d seen a few times but probably not, in its entirety, as often as I should’ve. It’s the kind of film which wouldn’t necessarily compel me to make the trip (which is rather difficult, the bus service being singularly erratic) by itself, but in combination with a bunch of other films I fancied, it made for a delightful extra, if delightful is really the word for F.W. Murnau’s desperate vision.

One smart person with a beard suggested that the film, in which hotel doorman Emil Jannings is robbed of his uniform and its concomitant status when he gets too old to lug suitcases without breaking his wind, could be read as a metaphor for Germany’s post-war enforced demilitarisation*, but I’m afraid my mind was on other things, such as Jannings’ putty forehead, which looks quite real on home video (though the shading in his cheekbones is recognizably kohl, not natural hollows) and becomes a big part of his performance.

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Also, I located the movie in the supernatural tradition of German film (NOSFERATU was just two years before) — when Jannings turns up to work and finds another man wearing his uniform, we seem to be in the doppelganger genre first seen in THE STUDENT OF PRAGUE. Seeing one’s double is meant to be a portent of death, and in this case it’s the death of Jannings’ hopes, career, dignity. It’s perfect that he sees the younger version as they both pass through the Atlantic Hotel’s revolving door, so that the new guy seems like a reflection of the old.

When Jannings’ family face him knowing that he’s now a lowly toilet attendant, they react not with pity but horror, and I was reminded of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, in which Samsa’s transfiguration provokes only the faintest hint of sympathy from his loved ones, who are more concerned with the practical problems entailed. Jannings doesn’t actually get an apple stuck in his back, but it’s a close thing. (Given his love of wallowing in humiliating scenarios, I’m posi-sure that if Murnau had produced a golden delicious and proposed ramming it under his shoulder-blade, Jannings would’ve shrugged off his undershirt and gotten down on bended knee in a twinkling.)

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The film seems, on the face of it, bracingly anti-capitalist, with Russian-style dialectical montage contrasting the rich patrons slurping down oysters while poor old Emil eats his toilet soup in the men’s room. It’s not even HOT toilet soup, as Murnau mercilessly photographs the steam escaping as Jannings is forced to attend to an untimely urinator who arrives during his break.

This is undercut in some ways by the conclusion, a bit of proto-Bokononism in which the film debunks its own happy ending. Jannings inherits a fortune from an eccentric American who expires, offscreen, in his arms, in the loo (the Atlantic takes away but it also gives). With his new-found wealth, Jannings becomes a guest himself, gorging himself suicidally and treating his friend, the sympathetic night watchman (whose kindness has hitherto only made the world seem bleaker) to an equally painful looking repast. Ignoring his disappointing family, Jannings heads off into the city with the watchman. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship, but it doesn’t feel like an indictment of social inequality, exactly. On the other hand, we’ve been told in no uncertain terms that this ending is not the kind we get in real life (the Atlantic gives but it also takes away).

The BFI’s rather wash-out print was compensated for magnificently by a new arrangement of the original score, performed by Sabrina Zimmerman on violin and doorman’s whistle and Mark Pogolski on piano, who created between them a very rich soundscape, one of those accompaniments that really helps you climb inside the film and smell its pungent air.

*The film’s opening title card (absent from the BFI print) gives some support to this theory. “Today you are the first, respected by everyone, a minister, a general, maybe even a prince — Do you know what you’ll be tomorrow?”

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