I happened upon the remarkable, daring exploits of Lt. Edgardo Simoni—the Italian prisoner of war who made a habit of repeatedly escaping from various Australian POW camps during WWII—while reading the non-wartime story of another (very different) ace escape artist, Kevin John Simmonds, a con on the run from NSW cops who bamboozled an extensive manhunt comprising 500-odd police and 300 volunteers in 1959, leading them on a long, fruitless chase through harsh and rugged bush land before being finally being recaptured. To their embarrassment the state’s police officers found themselves lagging far behind the solo fugitive in a catch-up game of “Where’s Wally”, with Simmonds making them at times look like “right” (and not very bright) “Charlies” (They’ll Never Hold Me, by Michael Adams (Affirm Press, Melbourne, 2024).
Kevin John Simmonds
▓▓▓▓▓▓
The theme of valiant escape and valiant escapees from POW camps is a standard trope of cinema and television that has been done to oblivion over the years. This sub-genre has been a recurring feature in cinema for the past seven or eight decades, including a raft of classic war (WWII) features like Escape from Stalag 17, The Colditz Story, The Bridge on the River Kwai, Von Ryan’s Express, The Wooden Horse, The Mackenzie Break and of course the most lauded of all movies subscribing to the sub-genre – 1963’s The Great Escape.
But for me my favourite POW screen vehicle is the antithesis of these largely stark and grim dramas. No, not Hogan’s Heroes but another TV war sitcom, an episode from the Seventies TV series Ripping Yarns (created by two-sixths of the “Monty Python” team, Michael Palin and Terry Jones) called ‘Escape from Stalag Luft 112B’. The protagonist played by Palin (Major Phipps) is a serial escape attempter…during the war to date he has attempted over 560 escapes, 200 of them before he had left England, as a consequence he is transferred to Germany’s most infamous prison camp. At Luft 112B he continues his escape attempts 24/7, all of them ludicrously impossible. Meanwhile the rest of the British POWs frustrate Phipps no end by being perfectly content to sit out the war in their cosy and comfy little gentleman–officer confinement. By the show’s end the other POWs and German guards have all scarpered, leaving Phillips as the only man to never have escaped the “inescapable POW camp”. In his life after the war we learn that escaping is so intrinsically part of Maj. Phipps’ DNA that two years after his death and burial, locals discovered a tunnel dug from his grave to the cemetery fence: his final and “greatest” escape! A gem of a send-up of both the unrelentingly solemn POW film and British upper-middle class and upper class twits𖤓.
Michael Palin, ‘Escape from Stalag Luft 112B’
▓▓▓▓▓▓
Back to the real life POW escapologist Signoré Simoni. Simoni was one of more than 18,000 Italian military personnel captured by the Allies and transported to Australian POW camps, in his case assigned to the Murchison Camp # 13, near Shepparton, Victoria. Unlike the fictional Maj. Phipps’ fellow prisoners and the great majority of his fellow Italian POWs, Edgardo Simoni never content to stay put behind barbed wire and high fences paralleled the fictional Phipps in trying to escape whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Italian prisoners of war arriving at Circular Quay wharf, Sydney, 1941 (source: coasit.com.au)
Simoni’s first shot at freedom failed but undaunted he soon tried again. Swapping uniforms with an Italian private in the prison was his passport to the outside POW work detail. From there he easily managed to slip away from the Murchison guards and head for metropolitan Melbourne. Once there, he took the alias “George Scoto” and got a job selling door-to-door cosmetics (very successfully) which lasted for ten months. Afterwards, Simoni moved to Mildura in country Victoria where he found work on a farm. Here he was recaptured by Australian military police and despatched to a higher security goal in the isolated town of Hay, NSW. Simoni was not intent to accept captivity in Hay and in no time he had escaped by painstakingly filing through the bars of his cell window, becoming the only POW to escape from that supposedly escape-proof incarceration facility. Simoni then walked 300km to Bendigo where he caught a train to Melbourne. His second sojourn in Melbourne was cut short by a stroke of rotten luck when he was spotted and arrested by the same policeman who had arrested him on the previous occasion! (‘Italian POWs in Australia’ by Frank O’Rourke, Newsletter # 580, 02–07–2021, www.melbashed.com.au)✦.
Italian POWs at Myrtleford Camp (photo: Geoffrey McInnes/Aust War Memorial)
Myrtleford, Victoria, was the next POW camp (# 5) to accommodate the peripatetic Signoré Simoni. Edgardo had been an anti-fascist in Italy and had joined Mussolini’s army only after swearing allegiance to the monarchy, but in Australia he started to embrace communism which led to the authorities placing him under special surveillance. Not very successfully it seems because Simoni was still able to regularly abscond from the Myrtleford facility at night-time without much effort to moonlight as an unofficial organiser for the local tobacco sharefarmers exhorting them to agitate for better working conditions (‘Edgardo Simoni oral history interview by Dan Connell’, 06–11–1986, http://archival.sl.nsw.gov.au).
Col. Edgardo Simoni (ret.) in 1974: revisiting his travels around SE Australia
ᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒ
Endnote: All in all Lt. Simoni—who earned the nickname La volpe (“the Fox”) for his war-time escapades—made 13 escape attempts in the three years he was a POW in Australian detention. At the end of the war, upon release, Simoni returned to Italy and resumed his career in the military, rising to the rank of colonel. In 1974 La volpe re-visited Australia, this time on happier terms, to retrace the steps of his fugitive odyssey around NSW and Victoria.
𖤓 the 2000 Aardman film animation Chicken Run also mines the escape from prison trope, freely parodying WWII POW movies (especially The Great Escape) by exploiting all the familiar cliches
✦ the press closely followed Simoni’s escapades in Australia as if they were tracking “Public Enemy # 1”: ‘Search For Italian’ MELBOURNE. June 10. Police and military authorities searching for Lt. Edgardo Simoni, 25, the Italian who escapedon a bicycle from a prisoner ofwar camp in Gotiburn Valley on Saturday, believe that he has crossed the Victorian border. Detectives and railway enquiry officers are checking; every interstate and country train. and interstate detectives have joined the search ~ Adelaide Advertiser, June 11 1942”
When the average American movie-going punter thinks of motion pictures he or she thinks naturally of Hollywood. If they know a little bit of US cinema history though, they might stretch themselves to mention New York as well. New York City was the centre of the early film industry (production and distribution)❇︎ – where the whole movie caper started in the very early days before it shifted to sunny California. The place they probably won’t tend to associate with movie-making is Chicago. Yet Chicago did have a thriving film studio in the very early days of motion pictures. Essanay Studios, Chicago, made its first silent movie back in 1907, when Hollywood was still known as a place for growing exotic fruits and vegetables. ,
“Broncho Billy” aka GM Anderson, mainstay of Essanay westerns
Essanay got its name from the initial of the surnames of its two founders, George K Spoor and Gilbert M Anderson (“S–and–A”), the latter a specialist western movie actor acting on the screen under the name “Broncho Billy” Anderson. The first star at Essanay was cross-eyed Ben Turpin (formerly Essanay’s janitor), who specialised in vigorous physical comedy (An Awful Skate, a 1907 short exploiting the roller skate craze).
The three biggest players together at Essanay in 1915
Many future Hollywood stars got their early screen exposure with Essanay, including Francis X Bushman, Wallace Beery, Gloria Swanson and Lewis Stone (and director Alan Dwan behind the camera). Bronco Bill Anderson’s westerns, regularly turned out by Essanay, proved a very popular earner for the studio. In a change of style from the customary westerns and comedies Essanay is credited with the first Sherlock Holmes film made in the US. Because of Chicago’s seasonal weather patterns Anderson moved an arm of the studios west, first to Colorado and later to California, based in Niles in San Francisco.
Sherlock Holmes (1916)
The studio had many of the top silent draws in the 1910s but no one was a bigger star at Essanay Motion Picture Company than Charlie Chaplin. Chaplin who joined the studio in 1915 was poached by Essanay from Mack Sennett’s Keystone Studios with the lure of much more money and his own production unit. While at Essanay Chaplin made 14 or 15 shorts (one or two-reelers), the crowning gem of which is The Tramp (1915), which received saturation publicity from Essanay. In this two-reeler Chaplin immortalised his most famous character, the vagabond “tramp”, conveying the right mix of melodramatics and wild slapstick [Neibaur, J. L. (2000). Chaplin at Essanay: Artist in Transition. Film Quarterly, 54(1), 23–25. https://doi.org/10.2307/1213798]. The studio’s star performer however wasn’t happy at Essanay’s locations in either Chicago or Niles and after just one year he departed the studios, moving to LA and Mutual and First National corporations for even more mega-money (his first $1M movie paycheck) and more creative control§.
The Tramp (1915)
Chaplin was far and away Essanay’s biggest money-spinner…with him no longer front-lining for the studio it started a downward spiral. Less than three years after the star draw card defected to Hollywood the Essanay Studios in both Chicago and Niles folded for good. Film historians contend that Essanay could have stayed successful had it been prepared to move with the times. The new trend was towards feature films (five or more reels), which were supplanting the short film as the popular form. Essanay Studio head GK Spoor lacked the necessary prescience to grasp this trend, preferring to stick with the old short film mode [Smith, M. G., & Selzer, A. (2015). Essanay Signs Charlie Chaplin. In Flickering Empire: How Chicago Invented the U.S. Film Industry (pp. 120–130). Columbia University Press. http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7312/smit17448.16]. Selig Polyscope, William Selig’s rival film studio in Chicago, was more attuned to the future of cinema, producing The Spoilers in 1914, an early full-length feature film starring William Farnum. Selig Polyscope however was also forced to shut down its productions in 1918, bringing Chicago’s role as a hub of American cinema production to a close, leaving Hollywood firmly and permanently in the movie-making ascendency.
Essanay Film Manufacturing Co logo
❇︎ New Jersey was often used to shoot the outdoor scenes, especially for westerns!
§ the other reason Chaplin and other east coast film-makers moved to the west coast and LA was to evade the enforcement of Thomas Edison’s patents on motion pictures [‘A Brief History of Hollywood Before It Was Hollywood’, Silent–ology, (2015), www.silentology.wordpress.com]
Queen Kelly is one of early Hollywood’s most controversial movies…its story is a cinematic journey of a production burdened by recurring misfortune and internal conflicts which is doomed to become the incomplete expression of a would-be silent classic. It’s excruciatingly long drawn-out saga starts in 1928, as a United Artists feature intended as a star vehicle for top silent screen actress of the day Gloria Swanson who had defected from Paramount to go independent. Joe Kennedy Sr, patriarch of the tragedy-soaked, almost self-destructive Kennedy family of jinked and fated politicians, comes into the film’s story at this juncture. In the late 1920s Kennedy shrewdly acquired a string of small movie studios which he consolidated into RKO (Radio-Keith-Orpheum) in 1928.
˚ ˚ ˚
Kennedy’s foray into the movie biz led to a meeting with Swanson and a three-year affair between the two. Joe was hoping to launch a successful career as a Hollywood film tycoon and agreed to finance Swanson’s Queen Kelly. Controversial auteur director Erich von Stroheim was brought in to write the original story and to direct, this was the start of everything going pear-shaped. Let loose with a big budget, Stroheim, an autocratic perfectionist by nature, dragged out the filming of what he intended to his personal masterpiece with constant reshoots and delays – amassing enough footage for a five-and-a-half hour epic, but having shot only just over one-third of the film’s scenario (‘Queen Kelly’, Silent Era, www.silentera.com).
Swanson in the title role with co-star Walter Byron (still from Queen Kelly)
With the movie still not finished and the Austrian-American director having drained more than $800,000 from the production budget, Stroheim was finally sacked. Filming done, this is where the machinations started getting really interesting. Swanson discovered that Kennedy has deceived her, instead of being an investor in the project Joe had actually loaned Gloria the capital, leaving Swanson wholly responsible for the loss! To try to recoup her money, Swanson tried to finish the disaster of a movie❇︎. After a savage round of editing, a sound version directed by Richard Bokeslawski with an alternate ending was released by Swanson’s own production company in Europe and South America in 1932. Stroheim, still holding the US rights to the production, had vetoed an American release (‘Erich von Stroheim’s Damned Queen: Queen Kelly’, Michael Koller, Senses of Cinema, August 2007, www.sensesofcinema.com).
Swanson in Sunset Boulevard (“the pictures got smaller…”)
Sunset Boulevard: American audiences finally got their first screen glimpse of Queen Kelly in a curious, twisted fashion some 20 years later. The film Sunset Boulevard (1950) reunited two of the original forces behind Queen Kelly, Swanson and Stroheim (as actor). Stroheim cheekily talked director Billy Wilder into using an excerpt from Queen Kelly in Sunset Boulevard, in which Swanson plays Norma Desmond, a forgotten silent film star. In a delicious irony the interspersed old footage from the doomed 1928 “classic” is presented as one of Desmond’s great silent films! The ensuing interest generated by Sunset Boulevard resulted eventually in a very belated second release of Queen Kelly in 1957.
The 1985 version
In 1985 Kino International brought to the screen a third release of the much maligned and butchered Queen Kelly. The 1985 version—hyped as a “restored masterpiece” and “lost masterwork”—was based on Stroheim’s original script (IMDb, www.imdb.com), but of course remains incomplete as intended. Over the course of the production’s extended lifespan, four cinematographers, five directors (in addition to Stroheim) and three other writers worked on the uncompleted feature.
Queen Kelly’s final release, 56 years after production ceased (source: New York Times)
Swanson and Stroheim
❇︎ timing also contributed to Queen Kelly’s failure…it was in production at the same time as ‘’talkie” movies were starting to make their inexorable rise ultimately to unparalleled popularity. Also, the Hays Code, recently introduced, insisted Stroheim make cuts to the movie’s raunchy content, which Stroheim defiantly and characteristically refused to do
The popularity of Earl Derr Biggers’ Chinese detective creation Charlie Chan triggered a demand for this kind of Asian–American mystery crime fiction, paving the way for a spinoff into a profitable movie series. Biggers’ early death in 1933 after publishing just five Chan books left a void in fiction that other writers were not slow to try to fill. Encouraged by the editor of the Saturday Evening Post, which had serialised the Charlie Chan books, author John P Marquand created his notion of an Asian “detective” hero who triumphs in white society, Mr Moto. Mr Moto is Japanese, quiet, small and seemingly meek of nature, like Charlie Chan he roams the globe solving crimes and exposing murderers. Unlike Chan he uses ju-jitsu as well as brains to overcome and apprehend the bad guys.
Marquand eventually completed six novels centring around the Japanese secret agent/sleuth – Your Turn, Mr. Moto, Thank You, Mr. Moto, Think Fast, Mr. Moto, Mr. Moto is So Sorry, Last Laugh, Mr. Moto (all in the 1930s) and Right You Are, Mr. Moto (1957). 20th Century Fox bought the films rights (as they had with the Charlie Chan novels), and casting Hungarian-American actor Peter Lorre as the Japanese spy Moto🅐, rapidly made eight publicly well-received B-features in two years – Think Fast, Mr. Moto, Thank You, Mr. Moto,Mr. Motor’s Gamble, Mr. Moto Takes a Chance, Mysterious Mr. Moto, Mr. Moto’s Last Warning, Mr. Moto in Danger Island and Mr. Moto Takes a Vacation (the series was variously set in Hawaii, Mongolia, Peking, Cambodia/Siam, Egypt, Devil’s Island, Puerto Rico, at sea, San Francisco and other locations in the US).
Your Turn, Mr. Moto: Book and movie The film is only loosely based on the original novel, retaining only some of the key characters like American Tom Nelson and Prince Tung, introduces new characters and makes the quest for the ancient Chinese scrolls a more central element than in the novel where it is subordinated to the question of Japo–Chinese relations🅑.
Apart from some overlap of titles there are big differences between the books and the movies. One of the most conspicuous is Mr Moto’s presence in the stories. In Marquand’s novels, the character of Mr Moto goes missing for large parts of the books (though he’s always actively working towards his objectives “off-stage”)…meanwhile attention switches to the male (American) protagonist who finds himself in trouble of some kind or other🅒. Moto returns to intervene at a crucial moment, the American is saved and finds redemption (which is the key to the plot). In the films by contrast, Mr Moto tends to “fill the screen and animate the whole series”. In the books Moto is “I.A. Moto”, a secret agent working for the imperial Japanese government, but in the films he is presented as “Kentaro Moto” (as his printed business card states), an Interpol agent. Moreover the two mediums craft quite different types of crime stories, the novels were international espionage adventures which Hollywood turned into formulaic detective stories on the screen, [Schneider, Michael A. “Mr. Moto: Improbable International Man of Mystery.” The Journal of American-East Asian Relations, vol. 22, no. 1, 2015, pp. 7–16. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43898402. Accessed 5 Nov. 2024].
Marquand’s No Hero (1935)
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
Mr Moto’s talents don’t stop at crime solving. He’s also a polymath, polyglot, art connoisseur, a graduate of Stanford University, amateur archaeologist and importer–exporter on the side. In some of these roles he demonstrates his special flair for effecting disguise, a ploy he uses to deflect suspicion from himself, blending in to exotic locales while undertaking dangerous spying assignments [‘Observations on Film Art: Charlie, Meet Kentaro’, Kristin Thompson & David Bordwell; David Bordwell’s website on cinema, 16-Mar-2007, www.davidbordwell.net; “‘Asian Detectives’. An Overview’, Philippa Gates, Crime Culture, www.crimeculture.com].
Mr Moto in clownface (“Mr. Moto’s Last Warning”)
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
The Charlie Chan nexus: With two highly bankable screen detectives at its disposal Fox recognised the value of cross-promotion when the opportunity arose. The 1938 Moto movie Mr. Moto’s Gamble was originally meant to be a Warner Oland-starring Charlie Chan feature, however Oland’s ill-health and untimely death squashed those plans. Fox substituted Mr. Moto’s Gamble for the canned Chan movie and the producers kept Oland’s co-star Keye Luke in his No. 1 son role opposition Lorre this time, even allowing Mr Moto to politely inquire with Lee Chan (Luke) as to his honourable father’s health.
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
Moto, genial but ruthless: Irrespective of the connexions and references between Charlie Chan and Kentaro Moto, Lorre’s off-centre sense of humour ensures that on screen Moto is “no Chan clone”. Although Moto, like Chan, employs logic and deduction in his policing methods and is quiet, meek exceedingly polite in public dealings (and a milk drinker no less!), he is also very much a man of action, disposing of physical threats to him with his uncompromising ju-jitsu prowess…in the case of the story’s murderer, once revealed, Moto customarily dispenses with the need for trial, having no qualms about liquidating him with 007-like utter ruthlessness, something Chan with his high moral code would never contemplate (Gates).
Moto’s alpha side (“Think Fast, Mr. Moto”)
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
Mr Moto‘s personal side is as shadowy as his profession, to the audience it’s a blank slate. He has no family and no love life and his only companion is his cat. The only hint of a possible romance is his liaison with Lela (or Lotus) Liu (Lotus Long) in Think Fast, Mr. Moto and Mysterious Mr. Moto, but she turns out to be an agent like him and their attachment seems to be more a matter of working together to solve the case. Moto is a “lone wolf” when investigating cases, working solo without assistants. Occasionally he does ally with a self-appointed sidekick—usually a naive or gormless American or English idiot—who sometimes inadvertently unearths crucial evidence but as always it’s Mr Moto who unravels the mystery.
”Them Nipponese sure are peculiar birds”: Mr Moto, a Japanese man in 1930s America, is inevitably exposed in the stories to the casual racism of various people he meets, but the prejudice he cops seems more overt than the more subtle racist slurs DI Chan is subjected to. Possibly, this was a reflection of growing pro-Chinese feelings in America then in the wake of unremitting Japanese aggression against China in Manchuria. Moto, unfazed by the jibes, manages to turn the racism back on the perpetrators without their realising it…though he speaks perfectly fluent English he sometimes pretends to indulge their expectations of the stereotypical Asian: “Ah, so!!! Suiting you?”, he mocks in his singsong repartee manner 🅓 (Thompson & Bordwell).
Versatile Mr Moto turns his hand (and voice) to ventriloquism (Mr. Moto’s Last Warning)
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
What makes Lorre’s star turn as the mysterious Japanese secret agent so good–even if it’s heavily stereotyped—is that he plays the role absolutely tongue-in-cheek and with considerable charm [‘A Guide to the Mr Moto Films’, Charles P. Mitchell, Classic Images,www.webarchive.org]. Although I wonder if Moto’s ever-smiling, ultra-polite, insufferable smugness with gleaming teeth while correcting lesser mortals as to the error of the misconceptions didn’t start to grate with some movie-watchers after a while?
“Mr Moto…the foxiest detective of them all!!!“
ᨎᨐᨏᨃᨑ
As the series continued the film storylines and situations predictably became more formulaic. After eight features Peter Lorre called it quits, seeking a release from his Mr Moto contract. The Moto sub-genre was still very popular at the box office but it’s probable that Lorre’s concern was that he was being typecast again as Moto (having previously been stereotyped as a psycho killer), which he felt was limiting his choices of different parts (Gates).
Footnote: Where did Marquand get his inspiration for the character of Mr Moto? Marquand undertook a research tour of the Orient in 1934 to gather material for his Asian detective project. While in Japan he aroused the suspicions of a short, exceedingly polite police detective who started shadowing the American author on his journeys. Eventually the Japanese detective, realising that Marquand was no threat to the country, stopped tailing him. This chance encounter provided Marquand with the spark for the character of Moto.
Pearl Harbour effectively killed off novels for the American market about Japanese spies but Marquand did write a final “Mr Moto” after a lapse of nearly 20 years: a Cold War espionage thriller “Right You Are” with American agents hunting down communist infiltrators in Tokyo
🅐 leaving the series and Lorre open to retrospective criticism for engaging in “Yellowface”, although Moto hasn’t attracted the ire of modern critics to the same extent as the Charlie Chan series has for the steady stream of white actors who have portrayed the Chinese super-detective up until as recently as 1981 – see previous post ‘Charlie Chan, Murder Mystery-Buster Extraordinaire: A Positive Asian Stereotype or an Oriental “Uncle Tom”?’, (29 October 2024)
🅑 Marquand’s focus in the books is on the clash of cultures, European/American vs Oriental (Japanese/Chinese), to a much greater degree that the films
🅒 the first book, Your Turn, Mr. Moto, was originally titled No Hero, a reference to another character, not Moto
One of the favourite characters of the American moviegoing public in the 1930s and 1940s was the affable but inscrutable Chinese detective from Honolulu, Charlie Chan. Some 44 black and white (mostly B) movies were made by Fox Film Corp (20th Century Fox) and later Monogram Pictures spanning the years 1931 and 1949. Budgeted at $200,000 to $250,000 per film Chan pictures regularly returned a million dollars in profit for Fox (‘China and the Chinese in Popular Film: From Fu Manchu to Charlie Chan: 9781350985681, 9781786730640’, (2017), www.dokumen.pub). Bargain-basement Monogram made their Chans for much less than this.
Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935): Warner Oland with a very young Rita Hayworth (billed under her original name, Rita Cansino)
The producers used three non-Chinese actors to fill the eponymous role over the course of the series – a Swede, Warner Oland and two Americans, Sidney Toler and Roland Winters. This recourse to non-Asian white actors presuming to play Asians fuelled vitriolic criticism much later (and rightly so), but back around circa 1940 this was what Hollywood got away with without discernible objection or diminution of the character’s popularity🅐. Before the Fox series started up in 1931 there had been three earlier (1920s) representations of Charlie Chan on screen, two of which were played by Japanese actors.
The House Without a Key ~ the first Charlie Chan novel
It all starts in Honolulu: The life of the literary “Charlie Chan” begins with a midwestern United States writer on holiday in 1920. Earl Derr Biggers, who had already had a measure of success as an author, was relaxing on a beach in Hawaii when he concocted the bare bones of a murder mystery. As for the character of “Chan” himself, Biggers stitched together composite attributes based on what he learned about a brace of real-life Chinese-Hawaiian detectives𖣓. The end-product was Biggers’ novel The House Without a Key, the first Charlie Chan detective fiction, published in 1925. The author explained how he envisaged the character of the brilliant fictional oriental master-sleuth: “I had seen movies depicting and read stories about Chinatown and wicked Chinese villains, and it struck me that a Chinese hero, trustworthy, benevolent, and philosophical, would come nearer to presenting a correct portrayal of the race” (Barbara Gregorich, ‘Earl Derr Biggers’, Harvard Magazine, 03-Jan-2000). Biggers’ intention was an anti-racist creation, an antidote to the villainous yellow peril persona commonly constructed for the screen (as typified by the archetypal Dr Fu Manchu).
Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936): Oland with Boris Karloff
The first four films of the Charlie Chan series including the first in the Fox franchise featuring Warner Oland, Charlie Chan Carries On, are all lost (destroyed in a vault fire), so of the remaining films in the sub-genre, critics generally rate these among the best: Charlie Chan at the Opera, Charlie Chan in London, Charlie Chan at the Circus,Charlie Chan in Shanghai, Charlie Chan at the Olympics, (all Oland); Charlie Chan in Honolulu, Castle in the Desert, Charlie Chan atTreasure Island, Dead Men Tell (all Toler). The quality dropped off alarmingly the longer the series went, especially after Monogram, the “Poverty Row” studio, with its low-budget approach and inferior production values, took charge of the films🅑.
Sidney Toler as DI Chan in his trademark cream suit and matching Panama hat
Pseudo-Confucian wisdom: One of the standard tropes of the CC films is Charlie’s habitual indulgence in oriental fortune cookie-style aphorisms, intoned deadpan in his characteristically truncated syntax. Some of the more memorable ones include “Accidents can happen, if planned that way”; “A soft word does not scratch the tongue”; “Caution sometime mother of suspicion”; “Tongue often hang man quicker than rope”; “Mind, like parachute, only function when open”; “Fish in sea like flea on dog – always present, but difficult to catch”; “Grain of sand in eye may hide mountain”; “If you want wild bird to sing, do not put him in cage”; “Innocent act without thinking, guilty always make plans”; “Motive like string, tied in many knots, end may be in sight but hard to unravel”; “Opinion like tea leaf in hot water – both need time for brewing”; “Optimist only see only doughnut, pessimist see hole”; ”Person who ask riddle should know answer”; “Talk cannot cook rice”; “Waiting for tomorrow is waste of today”; “When money talk, few are deaf”; “Bad alibi like dead fish – cannot stand test of time”. Another stock phrase of Chan’s, oft-repeated in every film, is “Contradiction, please!” Followed by observations such as “Case still open like swinging gate”.
Roland Winters, Keye Luke & Victor Sen Yung together in The Feathered Serpent (1948)
Sons No. 1, 2 and 3: The honourable Inspector Chan is a family man with multiple offspring (the Chan clan numbering 14 at the last count!), but it is his three eldest sons, #1, #2 and #3, that mostly get to share the spotlight with their father, and even play a role (sometimes inadvertently) in the solving of the particular case in question, whilst irritating the bejesus out of Chan. In most of the Warner Oland films Charlie is paired with Son #1, Lee Chan (played by Keye Luke). In the Sidney Toler films Chan is joined by Son #2, Jimmy (portrayed by Victor Sen Yung). By Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944) Son #3, Tommy (Benson Fong) is on board, opposite Toler in several of the Chan movies. After the CC baton is passed to Roland Winters in the late Forties, Keye Luke🅒 returns as Son #1 for the last few entries in the sequence. The favourite sons act as foils to Charlie, emphasising the generation gap between themselves and their “Pop” by demonstrating how thoroughly as Chinese-Americans they have assimilated into the dominant white culture (Tino Balio, “Balio on Charlie Chan ‘Grand Design’”, Some critical perspectives on Charlie Chan, (University of Missouri – St Louis) www.umsl.edu). African-American actor Mantan Moreland injected moments of comedy relief (usually working in unison with one of the numbered sons), appearing in 15 of the later mystery whodunnits in the 1940s as Chan’s jittery chauffeur Birmingham Brown.
The Chinese Cat (1944): Charlie Chan team # 2 – Toler, Fong and Moreland together
What made Charlie Chan so popular with Waspish America?🅓 Chan’s portrayal in a positive light (as intended by Biggers) made him something of a novelty for white audiences accustomed to negative depictions of Asians on the screen. Chan was different, it seemed incongruous, here was a rotund, humorous Chinese man who held the senior position of police inspector and the obvious respect of his peers. Endowed with Sherlock Holmes-like acute powers of observation, he solves baffling crimes that no one else can (Elaine Kim ‘Images of Asians in Anglo-American Literature’, Some critical perspectives on Charlie Chan, (University of Missouri – St Louis) www.umsl.edu). Another appealing factor was the movies’ variety of settings…though based in Honolulu, the usual format sees globe-trotting Charlie Chan following the murder trail to a host of exotic international locations—London, Paris, Monte Carlo, Río, Egypt, Shànghâi, Panama, Mexico, Berlin, etc—for a spot of outreach sleuth work. The regular changes of locale/scenery helped to maintain the interest of moviegoers.
Charlie Chan follows the crime trail everywhere, even to the Berlin Olympic Games
Is Chan a transitional figure bridging the divide in cultures?:The Charlie Chan persona has certainly polarised critics in America. Some see the character as having been a positive for changing the perception of Asian and specifically Chinese people. Hitherto American audiences were exposed to the notion of Orientals as “heathen Chinee”, denizens of the squalid opium den or as nondescript types who worked solely in damp, dingy laundries. Det. Inspector Chan is a very different Oriental, his attributes, intelligence, diligence, good humour and loyalty, are qualities much valued in the American cultural ethos. In this context the Chinese-Hawaiian shamus is seen as a good stereotype, countering the bad Oriental stereotype so long ingrained in US cinema. (Sandra Hawley, ‘The Importance of Being Charlie Chan’, www.enotes.com).
Still from Charlie Chan in Paris (1935) (photo: 20th Century Fox/Photofest)
Charlie Chan as “showcase” representative of a “model minority”: Other critics take a more trenchant view of why Americans of the day so readily accepted Charlie Chan. They see Chan as one-dimensional, subservient, kowtowing to white authority, merely a subject for satire. Even when he is demonstrating his superior intellectual powers, meek of demeanour Chan is self-effacing and apologetic (“so sorry to disagree”), he never challenges the power imbalance in the Caucasians’ favour🅔. Culturally assimilated, Chan knows his place in white American society as the “benevolent Other”…always stoical, he cheerfully accepts his assigned status (Shilpa Dave et al, East Main Street: Asian American Popular Culture, and Jeffrey Crean, Fear of Chinese Power: An International History, (both cited in Wikipedia); Kim, ‘Images of Asians’). Some critiques see the Chan character as an emasculated figure, a pernicious racial stereotype blocking the articulation of “more credible, self-determined enunciations of Asian American identity” (‘The Hardboiled and the Haunted: Race, Masculinity and the Asian American Detective’, Calvin McMillin, (2012), www.academia.edu). Philippa Gates sees Chan as “existing in a liminal space between Chinese and American culture symbolized by his home: the mid-Pacific territory of Hawaii” (Philippa Gates, “‘Asian’ Detectives. An Overview”, Crime Culture, www.crimeculture.com).
Sky Dragon (1949): the final film in the Charlie Chan series
Resuscitating “Yellowface“ in a more racial diverse and inclusive era: The Charlie Chan films worked for their time and cultural context. Attempts to revive the Charlie Chan mystique in remakes a generation later with The Return of Charlie Chan (1973), and the lame Charlie Chan and the Curse of the Dragon Queen (1981), still committing the sin of casting Caucasian actors in the title role, misfired badly and were called out for their cultural insensitivity and political incorrectness🅕. The Curse of the Dragon Queen provoked a vociferous backlash from Asian-Americans who labelled Chan “a yellow Uncle Tom” and organised protests against the film, beginning even before it into production (‘Charlie Chan and the Curse of the Dragon Queen’ (1981), AFI Catalog, www.catalog.afi.com).
Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938): Sidney Toler’s debut as the No 1 detective
Sceptical police inspector: Aren’t you jumping to conclusions? Chan: No, conclusions are jumping at me.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx (Charlie Chan in London)
𖣓 for more on this see ‘Chan and Chang: The Origin and Cultural Vicissitudes of the Most Famous Chinese-American Literary and Screen Detective’, posted July 2020: https://www.7dayadventurer.com/tag/fictional-super-sleuths/
🅐 from the Forties right through to the Sixties Hollywood westerns dished up to the public Italians, Hungarians, Russian actors with three-day growths, passing them all off as American “Indians”, anyone it seemed was used other than actual native Americans
🅑 relating to the films in the later phase of Toler and his successor Winter
🅒 the popular Luke scored a solo turn in the Chinese-American detective whodunnit caper in Phantom of Chinatown (1940)
🅓 intriguingly Chan was also very popular in China during the 1930s, even seen as a Chinese hero. Warner Oland was feted like royalty when he visited the country. Homegrown versions of the Charlie Chan movies were made in Shànghâi and Hong Kong
🅔 although as Fletcher Chan notes, Charlie doesn’t always passively accept the doormat position. In The Chinese Parrot, confronted with egregious racism he reacts with discernible anger and displeasure towards the offending white person (Fletcher Chan, ‘Charlie Chan: A Hero of Sorts’, California Literary Review, 26-Mar-2007, www.calitreview.com)
🅕 Hollywood’s casting of a “yellowface” Charlie continued into television, a 1957 series, The New Adventures of Charlie Chan, saw fit to feature an American of Irish heritage in the lead role
As a kid I developed a liking for “Our Gang” comedies, a series of American short films about a gang of poor, mainly white (but including black) children. I enjoyed the good-natured tomfoolery and minor mischief perpetrated by the juvenile gang members, particularly Spanky, Alfalfa and Buckwheat. I’m thankful that I was exposed to the “Our Gang” shorts🅐 as it pointed me towards another cinema series about the same demographic that became part of my standard viewing fodder – the Dead End Kids series of movies and its successors.
The “53rd Street Gang” in their playground
While the antics of “Our Gang” were unadulterated if sentimentalised fun, I came to prefer the more serious tone and developed storylines of the “Dead End Kids” (DEK) movies. The early movies were starkly realistic, and this was realism of the grittiest kind, rooted in the unforgiving here and now of grim slum life in America’s depression era. These kids were dirt poor, locked into a daily struggle for survival, taking every opportunity, fair or foul, to fleece or steal from anyone or anything that presented itself. At the same time their brutal experience had made them rebels with a cause – the inequities of capitalist America…impoverished slum boys who never missed a chance to decry or one-up the “better-offs” in society.
Where it started: Dead End (1937)
The Kids from Dead End: The DEK phenomena had its genesis in a 1935 Broadway play, Dead End🅑, by Sidney Kingsley, featuring a cadre of young actors which would go on to form the nucleus of the gang in the movie series: Billy Halop, Bobby Jordan, Gabriel Dell, Huntz Hall, Bernard Punsley🅒 and the Gorcey brothers, Leo and David. The play was successful, running for two years, Hollywood mega-mogul Samuel Goldwyn saw the show and was immediately impressed. Goldwyn bought the film rights and made Dead End as a United Artists feature film in 1937, co-starring the Kids alongside Humphrey Bogart. The film was a hit but the boys caused havoc during the production, crashing a truck into a soundstage, prompting an annoyed Goldwyn to unload them to Warner Brothers.
Angels With Dirty Faces: the Dead Enders plus James Cagney in a gangster melodrama (source: alchetron.com)
Warners Bros’ crime school graduates: At Warner Brothers the Dead End Kids made six features, typically in supporting roles to big stars (Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Cagney, Pat O’Brien, Anne Sheridan, John Garfield and Bogart). In They Made me a Criminal (1939) starring Garfield, the Kids don’t make an appearance until 25 minutes into the film. The Warners’ series followed the studio’s formula of serious social crime dramas with the Kids heavily involved in the plot and also lending some comedy relief (‘Dead End Kids’, www.boweryboys.bobfinnan.com). Billy Halop was acknowledged as the leader of the gang and was purportedly paid more than the other boys, leading to some bad feelings within the group. Despite the DEK success at Warners the studio was disenchanted with the group’s off-camera antics (more impromptu hell–raising) and released them from their contracts after their sixth film.
Sea Raiders (1941): emphasising the interchangeable nature of the group’s various names, Universal tended to use the double-billing, “Dead End Kids” and “Little Tough Guys”, in their advertising
Little Tough Guys: Universal decided to get in on the act, cashing in on the DEK’s appeal with its own (B–movie) series. Billing the gang as the “Little Tough Guys”, Universal made 12 features in the late 1930s–early 40s, featuring at one time or other all of the original Kids except Leo Gorcey. Shemp Howard, one of the popular “Three Stooges”, appeared in two of the LTG movies, and was acknowledged by Huntz Hall as an influence on the slapstick style of comedy that the group later developed.
East Side Kids: The Dead End Kids morphed into a new incarnation called the “East Side Kids” in a series made by Monogram Pictures. These were 22 films made as low-budget imitations of the DEK movies, initially crime melodramas with comedic overtones, but as the series evolved, the comedy angle took greater emphasis. With Halop gone by this time, Leo Gorcey and Bobby Jordan were now the gang leaders. As the series progressed, the comedy duo of wise guy Leo Gorcey and zany but dim Huntz Hall became the focus in films like Million Dollar Kid and Spooks Run Wild (a horror comedy headlined by an ageing Bela Lugosi) (www.boweryboys.bobfinnan.com). As a variation on the usual criminals that the boys routinely cross swords with, in Let’s Get Tough (1942) they find themselves this time trying to foil Nazi and Japanese saboteurs in the US. A black former child actor of the original Our Gang movies “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison and William (“Billy”) Benedict were added to the ESK retinue of scruffy working class street kids.
Spooks Gone Wild (1941): East Side Kids v Dracula
Bowery Boys: Stoogesque slapstick and streetwise Abbott and Costello In 1945 the ESK series folded and was replaced by yet another name for the team of screen performers, the “Bowery Boys”🅓. Leo Gorcey this time had an enhanced stake in the enterprise, owning 40% of the production company🅔, acting as producer and contributing to the script. Gorcey also brought his father Bernard to the films’ players. Bobby Jordan left the series again and Gabriel Dell returned. The interaction of Leo Gorcey, with his malapropism-prone utterances as “Slip”, and Hunt as dim-witted sidekick “Sash”, continued to provide the central plank of the humour. The Bowery Boys series—made by Allied Artists, successor studio to Monogram—comprised 48 movies in all. The early efforts continued the standard fare of gangster melodrama, but after “Three Stooges” director Edward Bernds started directing Gorcey and Co, the films resorted more to slapstick comedy, Three Stooges-like wordplay and occasionally to fantasy themes (‘The Bowery Boys: Anything But Routine’, Ivan G. Shreve, Jr Classic Flix, 19-Sep-2013, www.classicflix.com). Abbott and Costello’s influence is also evident, there are obvious echoes of Africa Screams in the Bowery Boys’ Jungle Gents (1954) (‘Dead End Kids’ found new life as ‘Bowery Boys’, Jim Willard, Loveland Reporter-Herald, 07-July-2018, www.reporterherald.com).
Bowery Boys Meet the Monsters (1954): several movies in the series sought to capitalise on the public’s craze for horror/monster movies
By the time the final Bowery Boys film In the Money is made in 1958, the series is looking tired, stale and frayed…only Huntz Hall and David Gorcey remain of the originals (Leo’s ongoing bouts with the demon alcohol saw his forced departure in 1956, replaced by Stanley Clements), the “Kids” were now middle-aged, hardly juvenile delinquent material, and their screen work lacking the verve and punch of earlier days.
In the Money (1958): ageing juvenile delinquents
🅐 syndicated for television in the 1960s as The Little Rascals
🅑 the “Dead End” tag came from the inscription on the road sign at the river’s edge in the original, 1937 film
🅒 Punsly was the odd one out among the “young punk” band of actors, he stayed in the DEK/ESK series only till 1942 (notching up 19 films) before leaving show biz for good to become a successful physician (later chief of staff at a private hospital in LA)
🅓 the Bowery is a street and neighbourhood in Lower Manhattan, NYC
The Zorro story is deeply embedded in western popular culture, especially in the world of Anglophone cinema and television which trades heavily on all the familiar tropes, “carving the ‘Z’ on someone or something (the zigzagging mark of El Zorro)”; “secret identity of the protagonist, the elusive fox”🇦; “masked avenging angel fighting the powerful in the cause of the powerless”, etc. The fictional Zorro inherits the tradition of storied folklore heroes like Robin Hood and the Scarlet Pimpernel…in this Zorro is a worthy member of that exalted pantheon of morally-superior righters of heinous wrongs.
Batman: wardrobe tips from Zorro
Clark Kent aka Superman
Before Batman, Superman and the Lone Ranger: Zorro, he of the rapid rapier and distinctive black mask covering only his eyes, was a precursor to the iconic, quintessential American heroes of comic book and screen. There are transparent linkages between Zorro, the caballero (Spanish gentleman)–cum–rebellious outlaw, and Batman, the crusading superhero of Gotham City…both heroes effect a double identity. Both Don Diego de la Vega (Zorro) and Bruce Wayne (Batman) are wealthy aristocrats who feign unheroic personalities in their open identities🇧(compare Don Diego’s foppish even effeminate affectations with Wayne’s playboy persona). The dual/secret identities trope is also exhibited in the Supermen franchise, in times of great crisis or peril mild-mannered loser-type Clark Kent only has to dash into the nearest phone booth to instantly transform into peerless crime fighter Superman. The parallels extend to popular American TV westerns fare in the 1950s with the masked Lone Ranger who “was little more than Zorro in a western guise”, substituting the swashbuckler Zorro’s black garb and accessories with a lawman’s white outfit, etc. Zorro and Lone Ranger share another similar trait to their makeup, as does Batman. Unlike Superman, they don’t rely on superpowers or extra human strength but utilise “stealth, dexterity and ingenuity” to best the bad guys and end “corruption and abuse, and establish a world of moral justice” [John J. Valadez. (2016). The Lone Ranger Unmasked: Zorro and the Whitewashing of the American Superhero. Filmmaker Essay. Chiricú, 1(1), 135–151. https://doi.org/10.2979/chiricu.1.1.11]. In Batman’s case, he relies on his “scientific knowledge, detective skills and athletic prowess” [Bradford W. Wright, Comic Book Nation: The Transformation of Youth Culture in America (1968)].
(source: archive.org/)
Over 40 films, several TV series, novels, a musical, cartoons and comics, and the obligatory merchandise, Zorro as an entertainment phenomenon has been the complete package for over a century. But it all started with a simple and seemingly nondescript adventure story, The Curse of Capistrano by Johnston McCulley, appearing in print in a dime pulp magazine. First serialised in 1919, the template was picked up almost immediately by Douglas Fairbanks Sr (a Zorro tragic!) and his production company and developed into a box office hit silent movie, The Mark of Zorro in 1920. On the strength of The Mark of Zorro’s success McCulley serialised the Zorro tale, producing in all over 60 stories by the time of his death in 1958. The Curse of Capistrano by itself has sold more than 750 million copies worldwide!
Time setting for ‘Zorro’? McCalley’s Zorro stories are vaguely set during the later era of Spanish California (ca.1800–1821), however some of the film adaptations locate Zorro much closer to the gold rushes and the US takeover (late 1840s).
Guy Williams, the iconic Zorro of ‘50s television, and creator Johnston McCulley
Chicano bandit prototypes for Zorro: McCulley drew on sources from literature and legend—primarily Robin Hood and Baroness Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel—for inspiration for the Zorro character, but he also gleaned much from the pages of history, especially of early California. McCulley seems to have modelled Zorro partly on various 19th century Californio bandidos, in particular Joaquin Murrieta whose actual historicity is uncertain🇨. The popular legend has Murrieta immigrating to the California gold fields but when gringos committed murderous atrocities against his family, the Mexican wreaks revenge on the American killers and embarks on a short but violent career of robbery and banditry. Murrieta’s “exploits” polarised opinion, Californian authorities identify him an enemy of the state and place a high price on his head while to Chicanos the romanticised outlaw has become a symbol of Mexican resistance to Anglo-American economic and cultural domination in California [‘Joaquin Murrieta’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]🇩.
Moviemakers even roped Zorro into the Italian Sword-and-Sandals (peplum strongman) sub-genre during its apotheosis, with Zorro Contro Maciste (1963)
Another Mexican bandit (more historically authenticatable than Murrieta), Tiburcio Vásquez, provided similar inspiration for fiction author McCulley. Vásquez attributed his 20-year career in crime to retribution for the racist attitudes of the norteamericanos—the white settlers from the US who had taken over Alta California after it had become an American state—and their treatment of non-Anglo (especially Mexican) inhabitants of California. Vásquez’s bold defiance earned him a folkhero following within the 19th century Méxican-American community (Valadez).
William Lamport (by PP Rubens)
An Irish Gaelic Zorro?: A decidedly non-Latino historical influence on the creation of Zorro is attributed to the career of Irish adventurer William Lamport, noted for being both an accomplished swordsman and a ladies’ man. The peripatetic Lamport served as a captain in the Spanish army and was sent to New Spain (Mexico) with a new, Hispanicised name to spy for the Spanish crown. The Eirish adventurer was appalled by the treatment of Amerindians and Black slaves in Mexico and sought to advance their liberation. Lamport was eventually arrested and accused of sedition and intending to set himself up as king of an independent Mexico. The Irishman was tried by the Mexican Inquisition and executed as a heretic in 1659 [‘The Man Behind the Mask of Zorro’, History Ireland, www.historyireland.com].
Banderas & Zeta-Jones in the 2005 sequel to ‘The Mask of Zorro’
TriStar Pictures’ 1998 production, The Mask of Zorro, with a vigorous, athletic Antonio Banderas in the title role, revived interest in the Zorro story and earned a cool US$250,000,000 at the box office. In the 1960s Disney’s television adaptation of the Zorro story (starring Guy Williams, the Anglo-sounding screen name of Armando Catalano) was one of the most popular programs on the box, especially with kids. So is Zorro just some innocuous action-adventure entertainment fare? Well, not according to some critical voices from the Latino community who see the Zorro phenomena as perpetuating Hispanic myths within the wider white-dominated mainstream, reinforcing “classic stereotypes of the Latin Lover (see also Footnote below) fighting endless series of inept Méxican villains” and misrepresenting the “multiethnicity and cultural complexity of of early California [‘Zorro still makes his mark’, Lewis Beale, Los Angeles Times, 28-June-2005, www.latimes.com]🇪. Others are critical of Zorro’s ethnicity, UCLA professor, Rafael Perez-Torres, emphasises the point that the “Robin Hood of the pueblo” is Criollo, a white Spaniard born in the New World of purely Spanish blood, he is always represented as the “honourable good ” against the evil and corrupt Méxican officials (Beale). Novelist Isabel Allende with an unorthodox take on Zorro (El Zorro: comienza la leyenda, 2005) subverts this idea of Eurocentric Zorro by reinventing his origin as a mestizo (mixed parentage: Spanish aristocrat father and Shoshone warrior mother).
The dandy Don Diego & macho he-man alter ego Zorro in the Walt Disney TV ‘Zorro’
Footnote: Celluloid Zorros One of the tropes employed by filmmakers in Zorro’s frequent screen appearances is Zorro as “sexy Latino lover”, as portrayed in the versions (big screen and small) by a bevy of heart-throb testosterone-charged actors – Tyrone Power, Guy Williams, Alain Delon, Antonio Banderas, George Hamilton (though Hamilton in the 1981 Zorro: The Gay Blade, tagline: “Zexy, Zany and Zensational!”, plays the black caped avenger purely for (campy) laughs).
🇦 zorro in Spanish translates as “fox”
🇧 Bob Kane co-creator of the Batman character admitted Zorro—and in particular the Douglas Fairbanks Sr swashbuckling portrayal in Mark of Zorro (1920)—heavily influenced his shaping of the “caped crusader” of Gotham City
🇨 Murrieta’s story is mostly recounted through a contemporary novel, The Life and Adventures of Joaquin Murieta: The Celebrated California Bandit (1854)
🇩Californio Salomón Pico was another historical figure in 1850s California with a similar sounding story embellished by local legend – grievously wronged by white settlers so he turns to banditry against the powers that-be and shares his booty with the local Mexican poor
🇪all of which is not to deny that there are countless other Latinos (and other peoples) who have derived genuine inspiration from the story and legend of Zorro to help fortify them in their very real, everyday struggles against unjust, authoritarian and oppressive regimes
By 1961 US newspapers had started to use the term “skyjack” as interchangeable with “hijack” (in reference to the unlawful seizure of an aeroplane), but as the StocktonRecord (Calif.) noted, the word “hijack” colorfully persists
Skyjacking, the hijacking of aircraft as a tactic toward the attainment of a particular aim or objective of the perpetrator, descended on the world like a plague from the late 1960s onwards. In just three years from 1968 to 1971 there were nearly 200 aerial hijackings globally and the numbers grew exponentially over the decade (‘Hijacking’, Britannica, www.britannica.com). Many of these hijack attempts were politically motivated, often by terrorist groups–Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, Japanese Red Army Faction, Republic of New Africa, Black Liberation Army, Kashmir separatists, Croatian nationalists, etc—but a steady minority involved “lone wolf” attacks on airlines. Where the perpetrators targeted commercial flights it was generally standard practice for exorbitant ransoms to be demanded for the passengers taken hostage by the armed hijackers. A pattern of skyjack attempts in the 1970s, confined primarily to the US, saw ongoing instances of terrorists seizing control of commercial aircraft and demanding the flights be re-routed to Cuba1⃞ (see Endnote).
≜ Japanese Red Army Faction hijack of JAL351 in 1970 (source: ROK Drop)
When did the first hijack attempt on an aeroplane take place? ☄︎ ☄︎ ☄︎ ☄︎ The earliest instance occurred in 1919, when aviation was still very much in its infancy. The ur-hijacker was one Baron Franz von Felső-Szilvás, a Hungarian aristocrat (and self-taught pioneering palaeontologist) who was desperate to escape the nascent Hungarian Soviet Republic. Trapped in Budapest, bereft of a passport, the baron commandeered a light plane at gunpoint and forced the pilot to fly him to Vienna where he sought refuge from the short-lived communist Magyar regime2⃞ .
Baron von Felső-Szilvas (source; X.com)
It was not until 1931 however that the first recorded attempted hijacking of a commercial civilian airliner took place. It happened in Peru whilst the country was in the grip of revolutionary upheaval. American pilot Byron Rickard on his mail run flight for Pan-Am found his plane surrounded by Peruvian guerrillas upon landing in Arequipa. The guerrillas took Rickard prisoner and demanded the plane be flown to Lima to drop anti-presidential propaganda leaflets. Rickard refused to comply and the armed rebels were thwarted in their attempt at air piracy3⃞ .
“D.B. Cooper” – a shift in the methodology of “lone wolf” skyjacking 1971 brought by far the most outrageous hijack attempt by an individual. A passenger (known only by the alias “D.B. Cooper”) on an Oregon intra-state flight from Portland to Seattle informed cabin staff that he was carrying a bomb in his briefcase and demanded a sum of $200,000 and four parachutes upon arrival in Seattle. When his demands were met “Cooper” allowed the passengers to exit the 727 jet, and then he instructed the pilot to fly him to Mexico. At some point in the flight thereafter “Cooper” absconded with the loot…presumably he bailed out although no one knows where he ended up, disappearing without trace, with all FBI efforts to find him ultimately fruitless. The audacious feat won the solo hijacker a kind of instant folk-hero cache in the US, and more significantly prompted a spate of copycat, would-be skyjackers who tried to replicate Cooper’s success but failed (‘A Brief History of Airplane Hijackings, From the Cold War to D.B. Cooper’, Janet Bednarek, The Conversation, 18-Jul-2022, www.smithsonianmag.com).
≜ “D.B.Cooper” hijack (FBI identikit image)
Endnote:Hollywood embraces the sub-genre The skyjacking phenomena of the Seventies provided cinema and television with a rich vein of subject material. A seemingly endless stream of movies have gone the aircraft hijack scenario route for their plot action – just a sample of the better known titles include Skyjacked, Airport ‘77, The Delta Force, Air Force One, Passenger 57, United 93, Mogadishu and The Hijacking ofFlight 3754⃞. The “Take me to Cuba” trope was a recurring motif on ‘70s TV comedy sketches from the likes of Monty Python et al, with predictable jocular takes on the hijacking “craze”.
≜ Airport ‘77
1⃞ hijackings with a destination of Havana, Cuba, were so prevalent in this period that (according to Brendan I Koerner in his book The Skies Belong To Us) American airline captains were given maps of the Caribbean and Spanish-language guides in the event of just such a diversion (“TWA85: ‘The world’s longest and most spectacular hijacking’”, Roland Hughes, BBC News, 27-Oct-2019, www.bbc.com)
2⃞ the Felső-Szilvás episode had echoes in the Cold War climate of the late 1940s with a series of skyjackings (in Rome, Bulgaria and Czechoslovakia) by anti-communists trying to escape communist rule in the Eastern Bloc
3⃞ by a stroke of considerable bad luck Rickard was again the unfortunate victim of an hijack 30 years later while piloting Continental Airlines Flight 54 in 1961
4⃞” and any flagging in the sub-genre’s popularity by around the turn of the century was revived by the events of 9/11 in 2001
Movies based on the story of TheIliad as told by its traditionally reputed author Homer—such as the 2004 Troy, Helen of Troy (both the 1956 movie and the 2003 mini-series) and The Trojan Horse (1961)—automatically include scenes concerning the artifice of the Trojan Horse and the sack of Troy, conveying an impression that these events were part of the Homeric epic poem on Troy. but in reality they do not feature in TheIliad at all, which concludes with the funeral of Troy’s champion warrior Hector. Homer in fact alludes to the Trojan Horse episode all up only thrice in the “follow-up” epic poem The Odyssey and then only briefly in passing.
‘Helen of Troy’ 1956 (It-US)
Epic Cycle ~ it was left to other ancient authors, some roughly contemporaneous with Homer and some later, to, as it were, fill in the gaps in the popular tale of the Trojan War between the end of Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey. This collection of non-Homeric verse in dactylic hexameter acquired the name of Epic Cycle (Epikòs Kýklos), and exist today only in fragments and as later summaries made in Late Antiquity and the Byzantine period.
‘The Iliad’ (image: etc.usf.edu)
Aethiopis ~ this lost epic poem (c.776BC), comprising five books, is attributed to Arctinus of Miletus. Arctinus spices up the Trojan conflict by introducing two new allies of the Trojans into the story. First Penthesilea and her band of fierce Amazon bellatrixes (women warriors) from Thrace enter the fray against the Achaeans (Greeks). The Amazonian Queen more than holds her own against the men, cutting a sway through many of the Greek warriors until Achilles bests her in hand-to-hand combat and kills her…creating something of a double-edged sword for himself as in the act of killing Penthesilea he makes the unsettling realisation that he is in love with her (real Freudian messing with your head stuff this!) Arctinus then brings in Memnon, king of Aethiopia➀ (Ethiopia) and his vast army to bolster the besieged Trojan side. Memnon is deemed almost equal in martial skills to Achilles and the two über-warriors and demigods square off in mortal combat. After a titanic struggle Achilles kills the Aethiopian warrior-king which causes his army to flee in terror. A fired-up Achilles launches an attack on the Trojans but gets too close to the city walls, giving the initiator of all the troubles, Paris (whose behaviour is consistently dishonourable and cowardly), a chance to take a pot shot. Paris’ arrow pierces Achilles’ heel, the only vulnerable spot on his otherwise immortal body, but Paris still gets no credit for it it is Apollo (god of archery) who guides the trajectory of the arrow truly to its target➁.
Amphora depicting Achilles & Penthesilea in combat (6th cent. BC), British Museum, London
Ilias Mikra (“Little Iliad”) ~ this lost epic, in 4 books, is mainly attributed to the semi-legendary Lesches➂ (of Lesbos(?), flourished 700–650BC). Lesches covers the conception and construction of Odysseus’ Trojan Horse➃ and the awarding of the dead Achilles’ arms to Odysseus over Ajax, prompting the latter to lose the plot altogether, attack a herd of oxen and commit suicide in shame. The rest of the Little Iliad follows various escapades mostly involving Odysseus who treks off around the Aegean in company with Diomedes, collecting sacred objects which the Achaean prophecies decree are the preconditions necessary for Troy to be conquered. One such adventure takes them in disguise behind the enemy’s walls to steal, with Helen’s help, the Palladium (an archaic cult image said to preserve the safety of Troy).
Odysseus & Diomedes purloining the Trojans’ Palladium (The Louvre, Paris)
Iliou persis➄ (“The Sack of Troy”) ~ the surviving fragments of this epic, comprising just two books, is usually attributed to Arctinus, giving it a comparable vintage to the Aethiopis. The verse opens with the Trojans discovering the “gift” of the Wooden Horse. After debating it the citizens fatefully ignore the warnings of the prophetess Cassandra and Laocoön and decide to dedicate the horse to Athena as a sacred object. After the Trojans drunkenly celebrate their supposed triumph through the night the Greek traitor Sinon signals to the Achaean fleet to return, Odysseus and the other warriors disembark from the wooden horse and wholesale carnage, destruction and slaughter spells the end for Troy and its citizens.
The sack of Troy (source: Heritage Images/ Getty Images)
The Aeneid ~ this part of the story is also covered in later surviving versions by the Roman poet Virgil in his Aeneid and by Quintus Smyrnaeus (of Smyrna). Virgil’s Aeneid (12 books, written between 29 and 19BC) focuses on one of the minor participants of the Trojan War mentioned in the Iliad, a Trojan hero named Aeneas who escapes from Troy with his supporters (the Aeneads) before the Wooden Horse ruse is executed. Homer provides the template for Virgil’s epic poem which follows Aeneas and Co on their circuitous wanderings and adventures around the Aegean and Mediterranean seas (including an excursion to the Underworld) in Odysseyesque fashion, before settling in Italy and becoming progenitors of the Romans.
Aeneas’ wanderings after Troia (source: readthegreatbooks.wordpress.com)
Posthomerica ~ Quintus Smyrnaeus’ Posthomerica (14 books, written 3rd–4th century AD) picks up the story from the end of the Iliad and continue the narration of the war. Quintus modelled his work on Homer’s and also drew heavily on material from the Cyclic poems of Arctinus and Lesches, revisiting the well-trawled landscape of the capture of Troy through the Wooden Horse, the eradication of Troy’s royal family, including the killing of King Priam by Neoptolemus (Achillles’ son) in a sacred temple and his bestial murder of Hector’s infant son, violations for which the gods punish the returning Greeks with a series of misadventures – eg, Menelaus is delayed from leaving the Troad and driven off-course by storms and winds, taking seven or eight years to get back to his kingdom in Sparta; his brother King Agamemnon, the commander-in-chief of the Achaean expedition, is murdered immediately upon his return to Mycenae➅.
Ajax, Aeneas, Paris & others in combat (source: ancientworldmagazine.com)
➀ some sources refer to it as Scythiopia
➁ none of this gets a mention in the Homeric poems
➂ also attributed to other ancient writers like Cinaethon of Sparta and Thestorides of Phocaea
➃ or should we say Epeius’ Trojan Horse as it was he who built the gigantic equine decoy in rapid-quick time
➄ as in Ilion or Ilium, the Greeks’ name for Troy
➅ and of course there’s the curse of Odysseus’ decade-long tortuous trek trying to return to his home island Ithaca, as recounted in the Odyssey
THE street names around Macquarie University in the northwest of Sydney have an unambiguously militaristic ring to them. Many, many bear the names of historical battles, wars and military campaigns. In particular the battles of two 19th century wars, the Crimean War and the Napoleonic Wars, figure heavily in the street configurations – there’s Balaclava Road, Waterloo Road, Talavera Road, Vimiera Road, Taranto Road, Busaco Road (actually misspelt as the correct spelling of the Peninsula War battle is “Bussaco”), Trafalgar Place, Nile Close and Crimea Road itself. Then there’s Culloden Road, Abuklea Road, Libya Place and Agincourt Road on the Marsfield side, and Khartoum Road, all from various other wars involving the British and English imperialists. The names “Marsfield” and “Field of Mars”§ also feature in the locales of the Ryde district. Khartoum (famous for its 1885 siege) also lent its name to a very atypical cinema that existed in the North Ryde area long before the university, tech industry or shopping centre came along. The part of North Ryde, which is now called Macquarie Park, was largely green-belt bushland before the 1960s, punctuated by pockets of agriculture, Italian market gardens, citrus orchards and farms, plus an incongruously-placed greyhound racing track on the site of the future university campus. At the time the area which backs onto the Lane Cove National Park had not been developed commercially and its attractive natural surrounds drew the Northwood Group of artists to it who painted the orchards, market gardens, farms and waterways.
Nestled in among all of these market gardens and bushland was the Khartoum Open-Air Theatre, North Ryde’s first licensed cinema. Located on the corner of Khartoum and Waterloo Roads and carved out of a former orchard, it looked like the type of run-down picture house you’d encounter in a country town rather than in Sydney suburbia. The less than majestic Khartoum, held its first public screenings in early 1938. Debut feature for the theatre on opening night was Cecil B DeMille’s The Plainsman.
≜ ‘The Plainsman’ (1936)
The picture theatre’s knock-up construction from timber and corrugated iron earned it an affectionate (and not inaccurate) nickname from locals, “The Shack”. Roselands “Theatre Beautiful” it was not! The entrance section and projection booth were made of timber. “Open-air” really meant open-air with an obvious lack of shelter. The structure had a partial roof but most of the seating was exposed to the elements – the covered (padded) seats cost the princely sum of 1/6d while the uncovered (and less comfortable wooden) seats went for 1/-.
≜ Khartoum Theatre, an undisguisedly rudimentary open-air cinema absolutely devoid of any “bells and whistles”
The theatre’s owner was one Mr N Johnstone and was later partnered by Jack Peckman who doubled as projectionist. The Khartoum functioned as a two-man operation. At intermission or between double features the theatre would regularly provide an unorthodox form of entertainment for the patrons, wood chopping contests (in keeping with the bush ambience?). On wintry nights, if heating was needed, fires were started in 44-gallon drums (wonder if anyone alerted the local fire brigade?)(‘Khartoum Theatre’, www.cinematreasures.org)
Despite its primitive and seemingly incommodious facilities the Khartoum maintained a steady patronage from locals even after the North Ryde Skyline Drive-In, just one block away, opened in 1956. The greater threat however, not only to the Khartoum but to cinemas everywhere, was the arrival of television. (‘Cinemas of the 20s and 30s’, City of Ryde, www.ryde.nsw.gov.au/).
North Ryde Drive-In (photo: David Kilderry/ Drive-Ins Downunder)
“The Shack” managed to keep going at North Ryde—longer than many of the other, conventional cinemas, in the Ryde district—until 1966 when it closed down, bringing an end to 28 years of big screen entertainment in the former orchard. The Wild One with Marlon Brando was the feature chosen for the final screening on closing night in 1966 (‘Sydney’s lost cinemas: Ten of the best which enchanted audience before biting the dust’, Brian Kelly, The Daily Telegraph, 07-Sep-2016, www.dailytelegraph.com.au).
Khartoum Theatre, North Ryde, 1938-1966, one screen, 480 seats
Gladiator: Gladiatorius, from the Latin, gladius (“sword”)
We’ve all see gladiator movies, right? And most of us have probably seen either the eponymous Gladiator or its celluloid forebear Spartacus, or some inferior version of the cinematic sub-genre. A bunch of armed desperados fighting for their lives in the arena for the pleasure of Caesar and co. On the screen gladiators all seem much of a muchness with some variations of weaponry, but it may surprise some to discover that contrary to the world of movies, in reality there were a whole host of different types or classes of gladiatorial warriors plying their brutal and perilous trade in Ancient Rome.
Spartacus (1960)
The first record of gladiatorial contests in antiquity dates to 264BC and there’s some evidence that the Etruscans were forerunners to the Romans in this combative pastime. By the time of the opening of Rome’s Colosseum (80AD) the gladiatorial games (Munera gladiatoriaⓐ) were a serious business, with prize money and betting on matches the norm. Gladiators served a two-year internship with one of four special arena-schools (ludus) that specialised in training new gladiators of different types. With the fights strict rules and etiquette applied in the arena (pompa), and careful planning went into the bouts. The organisers sought to put on strategic contests with well-matched opponents…these promotions were above all entertainments, and no one involved with the promotions wanted them to end too quicklyⓑ.
Let’s look first at the types of gladiators that we’re probably most familiar with thanks to Hollywood, Cinecittà, etc. before moving on to other ones that film-makers didn’t bother to research. Moviegoers will recognise the lightly-armoured gladiator wearing a manica (arm guard) who fights with a weighted net (rete), dagger (pugio) and three-pointed trident (fuscina or tridens), trying to ensnare his sword-wielding opponent within his net and skewer him. The movies are not big on the typology of gladiators, tending to lump them altogether under the generic name, but this arena net-fighter in the Roman world—resembling and modelled on a fisherman—was called a Retiarus (pl: Retiarii). It would be very unusual for a Retiarus to fight another Retiarus, gladiators of the same class did not normally fight each otherⓒ, it was much more interesting to see a gladiator tests his skill and weapons against an opponent with a distinctly different set of weaponry. In particular Romans were fascinated by the prospect of a lightly-armed gladiator and a heavily-armed gladiator going head-to-head, the former testing his speed and agility against the skill and precision of the latter (Marlee Miller).
Retiarius (Lower right)
Secutor (Bas-relief with secutores. National Museum of Rome, Baths of Diocletian, Rome. 2nd-3rd century AD)
Symbolic battle of the sea The Retiarus would usually be matched, for contrast, against a heavily armed gladiator with a helmet, long sword and shield. This was the Secutor (“follower” or “chaser”)ⓓ or the similar Murmillo. The Secutor held a scutum (large oblong shield) and gladius (short sword, 64-81cm in length) with protection on his right arm and left leg. The full-visor helmet worn by both the Secutor and the Murmillo had a fish-like appearance, imbuing the Retiarus v Secutor/Murmillo contest with the symbolism of a battle between angler and fishⓔ.
Murmillo: Murmillo stands triumphant, in a 4th century CE mosiac from Torrenova, Southern Italy. (Source: Corbis / Getty Images)
The Retiarus seems to have provided the inspiration for another entrapment style of gladiator, the Laquerius (= “snarer”). Laquerii pursued a similar strategy and tactics as the net-man but used a lasso or noose to catch and subdue his opponent. The “snarer” in the illustration below is armed with a trident though his usual weapon would be a poniard or sword. The Veles (= “skirmisher”), armed with a spear, sword and parmula shield, was another lower-level gladiator with a similarly indirect style of fighting.
Laquerius: “The Snarer” (image: escenarys.com)
Barbarian vs Greco-RomanThe Thraex (Thracian) gladiator was a bit of a variation on the Secutor theme…entire head enclosed in a broad-rimmed helmet, a parmula shield (small, circular, lighter but still made of steel), armoured greaves (leg guards) and a Thracian short curved sword (a sica) about 34cm-long. The Thraex was usually up against the Hoplomachus (so-named for his equipment which resembled the Greek hoplite soldier), whereas the Murmilloⓕ tended to be matched with both. The Hoplomachus (“armoured fighter”) wore heavy protective gear and a bronze helmet and was armed with a small concave shield, sword and spear (hasta).
Proto-gladiator The Samnite gladiator (from Samnium in southern Italy), thought to be the first type of Roman arena fighter, was the prototype of the Secutor, Murmillo, etc., with similar apparel and weaponry, short sword, rectangular shield and rimmed helmet. The Samnite was very popular during the Roman Republic, but when Samnium became an important ally of Rome under Augustus, the Samnites stopped featuring in the contests.
Scissor (Tombstone bas-relief to Scissor Muron. Louvre Museum, Paris. 1st–2nd century AD)
There was also the gladiator types who used an unusual weapon, the Scissor…his fighting instrument had two parts, a long tube that protects the gladiator’s arm, and at its end, a thin cylindrical pipe with a crescent-shaped blade. Scissores were often pitted against Retiarii, which could be to his advantage if he could get close enough to cut his opponent’s net with the pincer movement of his open scissors. Another, minor type of gladiator, the Arbelas, utilised a weapon, the Arbelos, which resembled a cobbler’s semi-circular blade.
Gladiator vs the animal kingdomTwo very different types of gladiators shared the arena with captured animals. One type, called Bestiarii (“beast-fighters”) fought wild animals like lions, leopards and bears in the amphitheatres, but with the odds massively stacked against them. As condemned criminals or prisoners-of-war they were basically “thrown at the beasts as punishment or spectacle”, most with nil chance of survival (Encyclopedia Romana). The second, the Venatores (“hunters”) were much more fortunate, they were fully armed and got to hunt down an assortment of beasts.
Venator vs leopard: Roman mosaic, Galleria Borghese, Roma, 4th century AD. (source: Henry Yad Henry/Pinterest)
The Dimachaerus (Greek for “bearing two knives”) fought their opponents (often the Hoplomachus) using two swords (usually a pair of curved scimitars). These ambidextrous gladiators were considered by the elite and the people alike as having low prestige, due to the general disapproval of their method of fighting and reliance on dual weaponry (the sica), which the Roman populace considered sneaky (‘The Roman Guy”).
Other gladiator classes tended to be even more bizarrely left-field – the Andabata gladiator was drawn from the noxii (criminals who had been sentenced to death in the arena). These unfortunates armed with a gladius were forced to fight blindfolded (ie, they wore a helmet which was devoid of any aperture rendering them effectively sightless). The Essendarius romped spectacularly into the arena aboard a war chariot (called an essendum), but whether he immediately dismounted and fought on foot or initially from the chariot is a matter of speculation. The Cestus seems more boxer than gladiator, he had no body armour and his only weapon was a padded glove containing pieces of iron, blades and spikes. The Bustuarius (= “tomb-fighter”) fought not in the arena but about the funeral pyre as part of the ceremony honouring the newly deceased. Accordingly he was given even lower status than other gladiators.
The Crupellarius was a kind of despised apprentice gladiator. He fought weighed down by heavy armour that comprised a “bulky continuous shell of iron”. Historian Tacitus described the Crupellarii “as a contingent of Gaulish, slave, trainee gladiators”, adding that “they were too clumsy for offensive purposes but impregnable in defence” (Book III, 43, 46 in The Annals of Tacitus, Loeb, 1931).
Stone tablet of a pair of gladiatrices (Photo: De Agostini/Getty Images)
Women’s place in the arena?: We’ve seen them, in sexually alluring poses, on cinema screens but did the Gladiatrix (woman gladiator) actually exist in the ancient world? Yes, it seems so! It was very rare and typically met with male censure but there was some Roman gladiatrices who were active in the sport. Sources for the gladiatrix are very threadbare however…historian Cassius Dio makes reference to Emperor Titus permitting female gladiators to perform but on the proviso they were of “acceptably low class”ⓖ (there is however some evidence of elite women, as well as from other classes of Roman society, participating as gladiatrices including as Venatrixes from the 1st century BC). Where they did take part in amphitheatre fights a gladiatrix fought against her own sex – with the single exception mentioned by Cassius Dio, that Emperor Domitian staged night games which pitted gladiatrices against dwarfs.
Sideshow to the main event Gladiatorial combats in the Colosseum, like Shakespeare’s Tragedies, were deadly serious affairs, but like the Tragedies it was considered prudent to include an outlet for comic relief. In the pompa this was provided by performances by the Paegniarii, pseudo-gladiator entertainers who fought “burlesque duels” with blunted or mock weapons, especially during the midday break (‘List of Roman Gladiator Types”). The appearance of dwarf (pumilus) gladiators in the amphitheatres were probably also part of the light entertainment fare for the spectators.
Editor: this was the producer who financed or sponsored the gladiatorial spectacles
Lanista (manager): the owner-trainer of a troop of gladiators (known as a familia); involved active player in the trade of slave-gladiators; rented gladiators to the editor for contest events
Lorarius: an attendant who whipped reluctant combatants or animals into fighting
Rudis: the referee; a senior referee was called summa rudis
𖡒 𖡒 𖡒 𖡒 𖡒
A gladiator who won his freedom was awarded a rudis (“wooden sword”) and was known accordingly as a Rudiarius. Some retired gladiators became trainers or Doctores (“instructors”), assistants or referees. Some gladiators or ex-gladiators hired themselves out as bodyguards for wealthy and important Romans.
Gladiator Mosaic (Panel 4) from Torrenova, Southern Italy
Gladiator movies’ legacy of lingering myths If you were to rely solely on English and Italian language gladiator movies as a representation of historical accuracy you would come to certain conclusions. One would be that all of the arena fighters seemed to be infames, eithercriminals or enslaved “barbarian” prisoners-of-war who were pressed into the profession against their will. Initially this was the case, however by the end of the Roman Republic the demographics had shifted to the extent that volunteer gladiators, known as Auctoritas, comprised half of the amphitheatre fighters (Encyclopedia Romana)ⓗ. A second conclusion to draw from viewing examples of the sub-genre on screen is that gladiators fought to the death and therefore there was a high casualty rate in the arena. The reality was quite different. Sine missio (👎🏼 no mercy given) contests were rare, it was much more common occurrence for bouts to end with a missio outcome (👍🏼 mercy granted). Often economics rather than compassion swayed the outcome, gladiators were a very valuable commodity to the editor/owner and the rich and powerful had a vested interest in protecting their investment (Miller). Historians vary in their estimates of the numbers who died as a result of the combats but the concensusis that it was low. According to Suetonius(Life of Nero, XII. 1), in one full year in Nero’s Campus Martius amphitheatre no one died. It needs to be remembered that the Rome’s gladiatorial games constitutedonly a small window of the year, about 10 to 12 days and that most gladiators only fought about twice in that period (Encyclopedia Romana), which in itself would limit the death toll.
Secutor vs Retiarius (illustration source: forums.taleworlds.com/)
ⓐ Munera gladiatoria was part of the system that required Roman citizens of high status and wealth to provide public works and entertainment for the pleasure of the Rōmānī people
ⓑ for the combatants too, there was no virtue perceived in easily defeating a weaker opponent (Encyclopedia Romana)
ⓒ an exception to this was the Provocator (= “challenger”) who wore heavy legionary armature and fought other Provocatores
ⓓ the Secutor was so named because he would pursue the lightly armed Retiarus – from sequor (“I follow, come or go after”)
ⓔ Retiarii tended to be derided as a type of gladiator—they were seen as an effeminate (low) class because of their indirect fighting style—the net-man was described derogatorily as Retiarius tunicatus (“tunic”), despite the fact that he was one of the most successful gladiators in the arena
ⓕ introduced to replace the Gallus, “barbarian” prisoner-gladiators from Gaul
ⓖ that many Romans thought the gladiatorial profession was suitable only for the lower, especially criminal (infames), classes, is a recurring theme, notwithstanding this some middle-upper class citizens did fight in the arena. Known as Eques, these lightly-armoured knights fought on horseback but were only permitted to pit their skills against other members of the Eques
ⓗ even one Roman emperor, the egocentric Commodus, “volunteered” to participate in the Colosseum gladiatorial combats as a Secutor (and Venator) sparking widespread disapproval among Romans
᯼ ᯼ ᯼ ᯼ ᯼
Reference materials, articles and blogs consulted
‘Types of Gladiators That Fought In The Colosseum’, The Roman Guy, www.theromanguy.com
‘The Roman Gladiator’, Encyclopedia Romana, http://penelope.uchicago.edu
‘Gladiators: Types and Training’, Marlee Miller, The Met, August 2023, www.metmuseum.org
‘5 Famous Ancient Roman Gladiators’, Michael Waters, History, Upd. 07-Jun-2023, www.history.com
‘The Roman Scissor: Gladiator, Weapon, or…? (AKA: Return of the Arbelos’, (Alessandro Bettinsoli), Eleggo.Net, 18-Dec-2016, www.eleggo.net
As a kid I was wholly immersed in what film critics call ”epic films“…those mega-large scale productions with sweeping scope and spectacle, unfettered extravagance, lavishly costumed, a cast of thousands (actual persons, not a computer-generated substitution of a multiplicity of images for people en masse), exotic locations, loosely set in a far ago historical context which could be Biblical, could be Viking sagas, Sinbad the Sailor/Arabian Nights adventures, 16th century pirates, Spanish Conquistadors in the New World, 12th century Crusaders venturing forth for the Holy Land or from countless other pages in the chronicles of history. Even movies which mix myth with history like the Robin Hood sagas or the Arthurian legend drew me to their flame. But it was the world of antiquity, in particular the BC era as interpreted on celluoid screens large or small that most fired my imagination. My all-time favourite viewing entertainments back then were “sword-and-sandal” movies. Yes okay I admit that when we got a TV set in the late Fifties, watching Westerns started to consume the lion’s share of my leisure time, but by circa 1960 there was just so many damn TV westerns, “horse operas”, “oaters” call them what you like monopolising air time on the box, that you had to be discerning to avoid them (which I wasn’t!).
King of Kings (1961): dubbed “I was a teenage Jesus” by critics upon its release
⿻⿻⿻
The Peplum:
This quintessential term in the epic film lexicon comes from the garment worn by Greek women in the Archaic era, the peplos. What the Hellenic women of antiquity called a peplos—a long outer robe or shawl which hung from the body in loose folds and sometimes was drawn over the head—is a far cry from how moviemakers in the mid-20th century conceived the garment. Peplaⓐ in the Greco-Roman cinematic universe were a much sexier affair, mini-length tunics to show off shapely legs (and worn by both sexes).
Peplum fashionistas
In that less prescriptive age when no one fretted much about the adverse physiological (or psychological) effects on juveniles of their maxing out in front of the idiot box 12 hours a day, my penchant was to get as much Hollywood epic blockbusters into me as I could manage—this included such classic Hollywood biblical and historical fodder as Ben-Hur, The Ten Commandments and Spartacus —seeing them in the picture theatre and again on television when they turned up there. If I had to nominate one ancient world epic flick as my all-time favourite though, I’d probably plump for the 1963 Jason and the Argonauts movie– admittedly a smaller scale ‘indy’ production without the big name star drawing power (maybe more “epic-lite?”). It’s stellar appeal lay in part, like its more famous fellow Greek myth story, “The Odyssey”, in the adventure-packed extravaganza of its Classical heroic tale, its virtuous protagonist’s quest and ultimate triumph against the longest of odds stacked against him. But what elevated Jason and the Argonauts above the pack for my 11-year-old self was undoubtedly the film’s fantasy special effects. I was captivated by the myriad of fearsome legendary creatures created by Ray Harryhausen’s ground-breaking SFX wizardry—though to more discerning adult eyes they must have looked decidedly “hokey” and “stilted”—the glorious highlight of which was the iconic scene where Jason single-handedly battles the frenetic army of animated sabre-wielding skeletons – and emerges triumphant of course!
Jason and the Argonauts (1963): Harryhausen’s Special FX
⿻⿻⿻
At some point in my juvenile years I developed a special fondness for Italian-made sword-and-sandal ⓑ flicks, something which I find hard today to rationalise. These are films, made primarily between the late Fifties and the mid Sixties, with trite, ludicrous and meaningless translated titles like Goliath and the Vampires, Hercules Against the Sons of the Sun, Samson Against the Sheik and Ursus in the Valley of the Lions.Most are set in ancient Greece, sometimes in Rome or elsewhere within the Empire (occasionally somewhere more exotic), and characteristically with storylines and events riddled with anachronisms.
Ursus finds himself in the Amazon in this 1960 entry
⿻⿻⿻
The sword-and-sandal formula
Robert Rushing defines the peplum as “depicting muscle-bound heroes…in mythological antiquity, fighting fantastic monsters and saving scantily clad beauties”. Sloppily dubbed into halting English, atrociously woodenly acted, scenes lacking continuity, the plots are ludicrously formulaic, typically involving a superhuman strong man hero who stereotypically runs through his repertoire of superhuman feats of strength, triumphing over all foes while rescuing a beautiful but defenceless heroine (typically wearing the briefest peplum imaginable) and sometimes liberating the oppressed masses to boot at the same time. Unlike Hollywood’s lavish epic spectacles (Quo Vadis?, Cleopatra, Ben-Hur, etc.) , these Italian homegrown peplums were decidedly low-budget flicks which zeroed in on the hero’s beefcake attributesⓒ. (‘Sword-and-Sandal’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org). The Italian cinematic peplum was indeed a curious passion of my pre-teen to early adolescent years.
Hercules (1958) with Steve Reeves: prototype for the Italian sword-and-sandal film
Hercules by another name
The ur-peplum was Hercules (Italian title: Le Fatiche di Ercole), released in 1958, starring American bodybuilder-turned-actor Steve Reeves, an instant hit which pocketed >$5,000,000 profit for the producers and backers and unleashed a steady stream of sequels starting with Hercules Unchained. As a variation to Hercules, other strongman protagonists were added to subsequent peplum movies, including Samson, Goliath, Ursus and Italy’s own folk hero Macisteⓓ. By 1965 the peplum was pretty much passé in Italy, with the void quickly filled by Spaghetti Westerns and Eurospy films.
My fascination with this Continental movie sub-genre was even more remarkable and unfathomable because, even then, I knew that the films were egregiously badly put together! Watching them was like being drawn against your better instincts to look at something as horrific as a car crash…you know it’s wrong but you just can’t resist the temptation. The unequivocal fact that the sword-and-sandal pictures were such thoroughly execrable, absolute turkeys of films perversely had precisely zero impact on my satisfaction quotient during my early impressionable years!
This 1964 ”Sword-and-sandaller” Maciste Contre Les Hommes De Pierre was released in English as Hercules Against the Moon Men, (“Hercules meets Sci-Fi”)
Footnote: Now at an age where I am hurtling towards senectitude I find the grainy and tired-looking footage and the equally tired storylines so unappetising that I couldn’t even stuck it out for 10 minutes, let alone stay the course of a peplum…but even with my profoundly diminished enthusiasm I still hold a soft spot for the deeply flawed sub-genre…I guess that’s simply nostalgia kicking in – the remembrances of things past which seemed better then (ie, in my youth) than they do now guided presumably by a more mature, more measured outlook.⿻⿻⿻
The sub-genre’s popularity in the early ’60s prompted the Three Stooges to get in on the act with a slapstick, farcical take on the Italian peplum The Three Stooges Meet Hercules (1962)
༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻༻
ⓐ plural of peplum
ⓑ “sword-and-sandal” and “peplum” are used interchangeably to describe this sub-genre, both terms have a disparaging connotation. The sorcery component of the sub-genre was something I could take or leave
ⓒ so to have the lead convincingly looking the part, professional bodybuilders, athletes and wrestlers were transformed into actors and cast as the Herculean-like protagonist
ⓓ Maciste as strongman in the peplum films was resurrected from a previous incarnation in the silent era of Italian cinema
People tend to associate the sport of chariot racing with the ancient Romans, thanks in part to Hollywood and movies like Ben-Hur…chariot racing was a fundamental part of ludi circenses (circus entertainment) for the Roman public, together with gladiatorial combats, mock hunts and wild animals pitted against each other. Chariot racing however wasn’t an activity that originated with the Romans, the ancient Greeks and the Etruscans were right into the sport long before them𝔸. It emerged in the Hellenic world at least as early as 700BC with contests taking place in stadia known as hippodromes (“horse course”). The sport features in the Iliad and by 684BC it was so popular it debuted as an event in the proto-Olympic games. In Greek chariot races the competitors were the owners of the rigs and horses, and with Spartan women entitled to own property, this allowed some women to participate in the popular sporting spectacle. Success in the four-horse races was well remunerated, with prizes for the winner such as 140 ceramic pots of olive oil (‘Ben-Hur: The Chariot Race’, A Historian Goes to the Movies, 16-Sep-2016, http://aelarsen.wordpress.com).
Spartan woman winning a chariot race (vase decoration)
The premier venue for Roman chariot racing, the epicentre of the sport in antiquity, was the massively-proportioned Circus Maximus, a specially-constructed race course located between the Aventine and Palantine hills in Rome. The course was an extended oblong shape along a 2,037-foot-long sand track (spatium) with sharp 180° turns at each end (a race comprised seven laps with the top speeds nudging 40 mph) (Encyclopedia Romana, Upd. 21-Nov-2023, www.penelope.uchicago.edu). The rage for currus circenses (chariot racing) as a spectator sport was such that the Roman went from having 10-12 races a day on 17 days of the year only in Emperor Augustus’ time to 100 races per day during the reign of Domitian. The standard “horse power” for racing chariots was four horses—called a quadriga or quardigae𝔹—piloted by older, more experienced horsemen called agitatos, whereasnovice drivers (auriga) were usually assigned a bigae (two-horse vehicles). Less common but not unheard of were six, eight and ten-horse chariots. The best horses for currus circenses were sourced from the Roman provinces of Lusitania and Hispania and from North Africa (‘Chariot Racing: Rome’s Most Popular, Most Dangerous Sport’, Patrick J Kiger, History, Upd. 17-July-2022, www.history.com).
All that remains today of Circus Maximus
To the Roman masses, the chariot drivers were above all entertainers, just like actors or musicians of the day, but there was a duality to how they were viewed by society. The elite drivers were lauded and lionised by the public (just like elite sportsmen today), but at the same time they were cursed as witches or magicians (this conclusion was drawn because how else could you explain their repeated victories?)(Kiger). Not all social elites in Rome were as gung-ho about the sport as the populus Romanus, although the egregious and unstable emperors Caligula and Nero were both big fans.
To the victor, laurels…and “big bucks”
Charioteers faced a high danger of injury or death from their profession, but the lure was the prospect of fabulous wealth…for the best race drivers. The prize money for a single victory ranged from 15-30 thousand sesterces up to 60,000 sesterces. If you were successful on the track and survived, you could earn a fortune and set yourself up for life…one such ace driver was Portuguese-born Gaius Appeuleius Diocles whose 24-year career netted him upward of 36,000,000 secterces from 1,462 victories. Diocles’ race winnings, valued today as equivalent to US$17 bn, would place him far above the superstar earnings of the Michael Jordans and Novak Djokovics of the modern era in sport (Kiger).
Diocles, champion of the Red team (source: earlychurchhistory.org)
Charioteers competed in teams under the aegis of factiones (factions) which like Formula One racing today, were under the control of team bosses/owners – these were different associations of contractors. The four principal factions, each one associated with a particular season and god, were known as the Reds, Blues, Greens and Whitesℂ. Each faction team had its own talent scouts whose job it was to find the most promising charioteers and horses, and each team had its own passionate tribal supporters base, much as we see today in professional football𝔻 (‘Chariot Races’, The Roman Empire in the First Century, www.pbs.org).
The four “colour” factions
The faction bosses bankrolled the whole operation of their teams, including the engagement of medical and veterinary staff, in return they took a cut of the drivers’ winnings. With customarily 12 charioteers in a race (three drivers from each team), teams pursued a stratagem of using their two lesser drivers to try to manoeuvre and block their opponents to maximise the chances of success of their team’s star driver (Formula One and contemporary professional cycling adopt similar team tactics in races) (‘Chariot Racing’, Travels Through Greco-Roman Antiquity, http://exhibits.library.villanova.edu).
A Roman mosaic of two famous race horses (source: earlychurchhistory.org)
Chariot racing revolved around money, not just for the drivers and factiones, betting on the outcome by the race-going “punters” was big business too. The Circus Maximus didn’t have on-course bookies or the TAB or Ladbrokes but betting was widespread on an individual basis. Prior to a race spectators in the seated areas or in the refreshment arcades would make private wagers with each other on the upcoming race.
Footnote: Hollywood does currus circenses ⟴⟴⟴ Most movie-watchers would have seen the 1959 biblical era blockbuster Ben-Hur, the Charlton Heston version immortalised for its epic 20-plus minutes chariot race. The race is a thrilling climax to the movie, accurately capturing the danger and drama of a real chariot contest in Ancient Rome, however much of what is shown veers away from historical verisimilitude…there are nine bronze dolphin lap counters, not seven, though the chariots are comparatively light as they needed to be. In Roman charioteering the race drivers were formed into teams (as outlined above), whereas in the film this is completely ignored with each competitor singularly representing different ethnicities (Jew, Roman, Arab, etc). Roman chariot races had staggered starts and starting gates (carceres) to negate the advantage to drivers nearest the inner wall or barrier (the spina), the movie is again historically out-of-kilter. First, the contestants line up one abreast, backing on to the the spina which seems to be borrowed from the way Formula One car races used to start in the 1950s, then they wheel round and start in a straight line across the sand-strewn track. Having Ben-Hur’s antagonist the elite Roman soldier Messala as a charioteer, is also all wrong…chariot drivers were recruited from the lower orders, slaves, freedmen, foreigners, they were infamis, the disreputable in society, men with a black mark against them. Lastly, Ben-Hur and Messala and the other drivers all hold the reins of their horses during the race, unlike what the Romans actually did, which was to tie the reins around the charioteer’s waist during the race (‘A Historian”).
‘Ben-Hur’, the iconic chariot race scene
𝔸 and the Byzantines continued the sport after the fall of Rome
𝔹 the quadriga races were the main event of the ludi circenses race day
ℂ the Blues and the Greens, the two largest factions, engaged in a fierce rivalry
𝔻 there were also occasionally spectator riots, as in football
With hundreds and hundreds of feature films being churned out of Hollywood every year, I suppose it shouldn’t surprise too much when two separate production companies, unrelated to and independent of each other, find themselves working on a version of the same subject at the same time. Nonetheless it does seem something of an oddity, or at least a novelty, when it does occur, which isn’t very often in the history of cinema.
Source: pastposters.com
At least three instances of identical subjects being simultaneously made into features spring to mind. Who doesn’t know that the mythical or semi-mythical (depending on your point of view) English hero of Medieval fable and legend, Robin Hood, has been the subject of American and British feature films almost too many times to count? Ever since the early days of silent movies the silver screen (and later the TV screen) has been awash with iterations of Robin and his Lincoln green-daubed coterie of “Merry Men” locking horns with the Sheriff of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisborne and other assorted knaves and villains. But in the year 1991 moviegoers got two Robin Hood sagas🄰 to choose from, a big budget Hollywood number, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves with Kevin Costner in the eponymous role. In a film stolen by Alan Rickman’s outrageously over-the-top, campy Sheriff of Nottingham🄱, apple pie American Costner’s non-attempt as an appropriate English accent was a talking point of the film. The behind-the-scenes scuttlebutt was that his initial plan to try to pull off a passable English accent was vetoed by the director (‘Actors who gave up on accents halfway through a movie’, Ben Falk, Yahoo, 13-Nov-2020, www.uk.movies.yahoo.com).
Flashy ‘Prince of Thieves’ vs gritty, shadowy ‘Robin Hood’
The other 1991 RH vehicle, simply entitled Robin Hood, a UK production, was a smaller scale, more modest affair than ‘Prince of Thieves’. The two filmic versions—Hollywood vs Britain, Kevin Costner vs Patrick Bergin—were expected to go head-to-head in a battle at the box-office, but this was averted when the producers of the UK Robin Hood decided to send their version straight to cable (Fox) TV.
A surprising lack of rivalry existed between the two concurrently-working production teams. Because a number of the shoot locations were reasonably close to each other (Buckinghamshire, Cheshire, West Yorkshire, North Wales) there was a good bit of collaboration, eg, crew swaps between each movie’s SFX and stunt teams (‘The Surprise Cooperation between 1991’s two Robin Hood films’, Dan Cooper, Film Stories, 09-Apr-2021, www.filmstories.co.uk).
🏹 🏹 🏹
𝔻𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕤: ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕝 𝕧 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝
𓃯𓃯𓃯
Two films about Hollywood’s original “Platinum Blonde”
1965 saw the release of two biopics about Jean Harlow, star Hollywood actress and screen sex symbol of the 1930s, both were titled simply Harlow. The first, a Magna Distribution Corp TV biopic starred Carol Lynley in the titular role and the second, from Paramount released five weeks later with a budget more than double. Carroll Baker played the Thirties sex siren. Magna and Paramount subsequently countersued each other alleging unfair competition. Both movies were critical and box office failures with nary a good word to say by anyone about either of them…DVD Talk summed them up as “two smutty movies” with little resemblance to the real Jean Harlow (‘Harlow (1965) v Harlow (1965)’, www.realtoldmovies.blogspot.com).
𓃭𓃭𓃭
Dual Doomsday message
The third concurrent double act on the screen has the most interesting relationship. In 1964 Hollywood made two Cold War-inspired films with a storyline about the US military launching a Doomsday bomb aimed at the Soviet Union. The tones of the respective movies are diametrically opposite however, Dr Strangelove is a farce and satire, comically lampooning the absurdity of the global nuclear standoff, whereas Fail Safe is a grimly serious dramatic thriller which plays it very straight. Dr Strangelove director Stanley Kubrick was alarmed to discover that Sidney Lumet was making a near identical movie…so concerned was Kubrick that Fail Safe with its similar content might undermine his pet project he got the production company Columbia Pictures to buy the distribution rights to Lumet’s film in order to delay its release for nine months. The wash-up from this head-start was that Dr Strangelove did far better business at the box office than the similarly themed Fail Safe and is the much better-known of the two movies today.
Images: Columbia Pictures
༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓
🄰 there were actually three Robin Hoods in the works simultaneously at that time. The third RH intended to have Liam Neeson in the role ended up being canned prior to production starting
🄱 as one critic summed it up, “While Costner had been robbing from the rich, Rickman had been stealing the movie“, ‘Behind-the-scenes trouble during ”Robin Hood”’, Garth Pearce, Entertainment Weekly, 21-Jun-1991, www.ew.com
Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 dark satire Dr Strangelove is a classic of the genre which comically probes the collective anxieties triggered in the West by the Cold War at its height in the early 1960s. Kubrick hammers home the utter absurdity of the prevailing nuclear standoff between the US and the Soviet Union and the consequential existential threat to the planet from the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) and “Doomsday bombs”. The movie’s plot involves the unilateral unleashing of a preemptive strike on Moscow by a deranged US Air Force general and the Pentagon’s shoddy attempts at “management” of the crisis.
Sellers as Dr Strangelove
˚
Kubrick and his film co-writers Terry Southern and Peter George give us three dangerously over-the-top, lunatic fringe characters – two gung-ho hawkish military types, generals Turgidson and Ripper, and the eponymous “Dr Strangelove”𝟙. The central figure in the nuclear nightmare scenario, Dr Strangelove (played by Peter Sellers), is a former German Nazi technocrat turned US strategic weapons expert and scientific advisor to the US president Merkin Muffley (also Sellers). Strangelove is creepily sanguine about the prospect for humanity post-nuclear Holocaust, expanding on his vision of a 100-year plan for survival (for some)…a male elite ensconced in an underground bunker where they can sire a selective breeding program with a plurality of desirable females [‘Dr Strangelove (character)’, Kubrick Wiki, www.kubrick.fandom.com].
Wernher Von Braun (Photo: Mondadori via Getty Images)
˚
Strangelove a composite of various personagesThough characterised by caricature and satire, the film’s three wildest characters are recognisable among the actual political, military and scientific figures of the day in America. The heavy Middle European accent of Dr Strangelove, his authoritarian-Nazi mannerisms and regular references to “Mein Führer”, has led some observers to conclude that the character was based on German aerospace engineer Wernher von Braun, instrumental in the Nazis’ V-2 rocket project and after 1945 in the US designing space rockets for NASA (a view given countenance by one of the screenwriters Terry Southern). Others have added émigré Hungarian scientists John von Neumann and Edward Teller as models for Strangelove. Both men worked on the Super-bomb projects (A-Bomb, H-Bomb, C-Bomb) for the US government in the 1940s and 50s, and both were rabidly anti-communist and anti-Russian [P.D. Smith, Doomsday Men (2007)]. Teller in particular shared a number of Strangelove’s traits, eg, volatile nature, Soviet-fixated and obsessed with bombs, possessed of a prosthetic limb. It’s probably a reasonable bet that the there was something of the personality of all three men in Dr Strangelove, but other individuals were also sources of inspiration for the character.
Herman Kahn (Source: Alchetron)
˚
A Megadeath influencer from RANDAnother real-life figure widely associated with the Strangelove character is Herman Kahn, who was a physicist and military strategist with the RAND Corporation𝟚. Kubrick got the idea of a “Doomsday Machine” from Kahn whose 1960 book On Thermonuclear War posited the possibility of a winnable (sic) nuclear war. Kahn has been described as a “Megadeath Intellectual” with his robust insistence that the dangers of nuclear war were exaggerated (this also accords with the outlier position of General Buck Turgidson – see below)𝟛.
Gen. Jack Ripper (Photo: Columbia Pictures)
˚
Military madnessMaverick general in the Strategic Air Command Jack D Ripper (played by Sterling Hayden) is gripped by the all-consuming communist conspiracy hysteria. His belief in the loony notion that the Soviets have been fluoridating American water supplies to pollute the “precious bodily fluids” of Americans leads him to initiate a H-Bomb onslaught on the USSR without consulting the Pentagon. Ripper’s wild rhetoric and blustery style has been compared to Robert Welch, the rabid anti-communist founder of the ultra-conservative and reactionary John Birch Society. Ripper’s loopy claim about Soviet water contamination echoes Welch’s baseless anti-fluoridation allegations (‘How I Learned to Stop Worrying’).
Gen. LeMay (Image: Mort Kunstler / Stag)
˚
“Expendable dead”
Gen. Buck Turgidson (played by George C Scott) was largely modelled on four-star air force general Curtis LeMay𝟜. Turgidson is an unrepentant war hawk who wants to escalate Ripper’s nuclear attack on the Soviets, justifying it with the outrageous claim that it will result in only “limited” casualties from the ensuing superpower war, which in his estimate equates to 10 to 20 million dead! Like Turgidson LeMay danced to the beat of his own drum, he was well disposed towards a preemptive strike on the Russians and vociferously advocated nuclear strikes on Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis and on North Vietnam during the Indo-China War.
Gen. Turgidson (Scott) in the War Room (Columbia Pictures)
˚
The actions and statements of the clearly psychotic Ripper and morally reprehensible Turgidson convey insights into the level of paranoia gripping the real-life military commanders in the climate of the nuclear arms buildup in the Sixties. [Fred Kaplin, “Truth Stranger than ‘Strangelove‘“, New York Times, 10-Oct-2004, nytimes.com].
Fail Safe (1964)
˚
Footnote: Satirical Dr Strangelove v Serious Fail SafeIntriguingly, at the same time Kubrick was making Dr Strangelove there was a separate film in the works also about an American nuclear attack on the USSR. Fail Safe dealt with the same subject but as a straight-up drama. In this second film about nuclear Armageddon the trigger to the catastrophic event however is not rogue generals but a technical glitch. Strangelove’s equivalent morality-free scientist character in Fail Safe is Professor Groeteschele (played by Walter Matthau) who draws similar comparisons with Herman Kahn.
𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝟙Dr Strangelove is broadly based on George’s novel Red Alert (1958), although the character of Dr Strangelove doesn’t appear in the novel
𝟚mimicked in Dr Strangelove as the BLAND Corporation
𝟛another Strangelove comparison is Henry Kissinger…suggested by a shared “eerie poise, lugubrious German accent and brutally pragmatic realpolitik” [Gary Susman, ‘Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb’, Time, 11-Feb-2013, www.entertainment.time.com]
𝟜although behaviourally the Ripper character (“cigar-chomping, gruff-talking”) also resembles LeMay’s style
Film star Errol Flynn was a larger than life character of mythic proportions, on-screen he was an authentic Hollywood legend. But his attention-getting off-screen personal life embellished his aura of notoriety and fame even more than the many Hollywood adventure film roles he played. On the silver screen Flynn embodied the heroic, swashbuckling celluloid figurepar excellence as Robin Hood, Captain Blood, Don Juan, General George Armstrong Custer, Gentleman Jim Corbett and Major Geoffrey Vickers, just some of his many celebrated roles. In his private life—most of it though was pretty public—the rebellious Tasmanian had a legendary playboy reputation for debauched behaviour and manoeuvrable morality…excessive drinking, brawling, drug-taking, wild partying, famously prodigious sexual exploits and a proclivity for underage girls culminating in rape trials. But even before his Hollywood period Flynn’s episodic life in New Guinea and New Britain was an incident-packed cavalcade of adventures that wouldn’t have been out of place in an Indiana Jones movie. Young Errol clearly had a compulsion to try different things, bouncing from one knockabout job to another – shipping clerk to tobacco planter to colonial agent to would-be gold prospector to tour guide, etc. During all this Errol escaped crocodiles and native headhunters, womanised indiscriminately, shot and killed a local for which he was tried for murder and subsequently acquitted. Damningly as well, Flynn was also an absconding serial debtor, an inveterate liar and an alleged slave-trader.
Father & son together
So, given Flynn’s Brobdingnagian reputation, any offspring of his, especially a male, would have a lot to live up to. Flynn’s three marriages produced only one male heir, Sean, born in 1941 to Flynn and his first wife Lili Damita. Almost inevitably as fate would decree it Sean Flynn, 6’ 3”, with a similar athletic build and inheriting Errol’s good looks, did attempt to follow in his far from model pater’s footsteps. Sean got an initial taste of acting in his teens appearing in Flynn Senior’s TV show The Errol Flynn Theatre𝕒. Sean inherited a small sum when his father died suddenly in 1959 and with it enrolled at Duke University but did not complete his degree. The beckoning call from Hollywood or “imitation” Hollywood was not far away.
Son of Errol
The Son of Captain Blood In 1961 the highly predictable happened! Sean was cast as the swashbuckling lead in a sequel of sorts to his dad’s spectacular breakthrough role in Captain Blood which had catapulted Errol into instant, universal stardom in 1935. Son of Captain Blood, an Italian–Spanish–British co-production (with some of the action scenes shot in Spain). The script was penned by Casey Robinson, writer of the original 1935 film. Prior to production the neophyte Sean received instruction in how to fence, fight and fall safely and convincingly on screen from Tarzan actor and stuntman Jock Mahoney𝕓 (Gene Freese, Jock Mahoney: The Life and Films of a Hollywood Stuntman (2013). Unfortunately Sean’s foray into cinematic pirate territory didn’t reproduce the family sparks – as the LA Times pithily summarised the movie, “the old magic isn’t there.”
Sean with Pili…or is it Mili? (Source: briansdriveintheater.com)
Ephemeral B-movie star Though Sean failed to set the screen alight in The Son of Captain Blood he did make a few more minor adventure films in Europe the mid-1960s, such as Duel at the Río Grande (as Zorro), followed by a couple of forgettable Spaghetti Westerns, the second playing opposite a popular Spanish teenage comic duo, Pili y Mili, AKA the Bayona Sisters (Sharp-Shooting Twin Sisters).
The last photo of Sean Flynn (left) & colleague on the day they disappeared (Photo: Perry Deane Smith/MCT/Tribune News Service via Getty Images)
Frontline Flynn, the Gonzo war photographer When Flynn Junior became bored with acting, perhaps channeling Hemingway more than his father, he took himself off to Africa to work as a guide for safaris and big game hunting. Sean’s final movie was a 1967 French–Italian action picture Five Ashore in Singapore. By this time Sean had taken up a new career as a freelance photojournalist, basing himself in Vietnam with the Indochina war in full swing. This work was much riskier than anything Errol ever tackled in his tumultuous life…Sean went on patrols with the Green Berets, getting shot at by the Viet Cong (being wounded on one occasion), all in the name of getting the best pictures of the raging war𝕔. In 1970 Flynn went to Cambodia to cover the spread of the Vietnam War into that neighbouring country. Sean and another American photojournalist disappeared on 6th April 1970, never seen again, after they ventured into Communist-held territory in Cambodia. In 1984 Flynn was declared dead in absentia, his exact fate remains a mystery but most think that the two Americans were executed by either North Vietnamese guerrillas or the Khmer Rouge.
Sean Flynn on patrol (Photo: Tim Page)
Sean’s willingness to repeatedly put himself in the path of extreme danger in the Vietnam conflict led some observers to conclude that the combat photographer harboured a “death wish”. Certainly, Sean seemed to have inherited Errol’s reckless gene, always looking to push the envelope without regard for self. Both father and son seemed to be guided during their lives by a Byronic impulse, their lives inextricably linked to the romantic and the tragic (Jeffrey Meyers, Inherited Risk: Errol and Sean Flynn in Hollywood and Vietnam (2002).
𒈝𒈝𒈝𒈝𒈝𒈝𒈝𒈝
𝕒 hosting this British anthology series was one of the jobs the former matinee idol had to resort to after his Hollywood film career took a nose dive
𝕓 who had earlier stunt-doubled for the older Flynn
𝕔 Flynn was one of a group of Vietnam War “Gonzo” photographers including Tim Page and John Steinbeck IV who were committed to going anywhere, putting themselves into extreme risk situations to get the best combat photos
Anyone who grew up in the golden age of milk bars in Australia, from the 1940s to the 1960s, will have a memory of or an association with these erstwhile hubs of suburban and small town social life…for many of that vintage it’d be hanging out inside with friends, indulging in their favourite flavoured milkshake, ice cream or other sweet tooth delight. My own fond recollection is of salivating over chocolate malt sundaes with nuts and taking turns at playing (or tilting) the pinball machine in the back corner of the shop. This treat was an exhilarating antidote to the aftertaste of having spent the preceding six hours toiling away in school confinement.
B&W 4d Milk Bar with mechanical cow & Red Cross-like symbol
⊹
They were such an integral institution during my salad days that I was under the assumption that milk bars had been around forever. In fact they only surfaced in Australia for the first time in the early years of the Depression. The first bonifidé milk bar is generally considered to be the Black and White 4d. Milk Bar which opened its doors at 24 Martin Place, Sydney, in 1932𝕒, it’s conception was the idea of a Greek migrant to the Antipodes, Joachim Tavlaridis, who had Anglicised his name to Mick Adams. Mick had visited the US and had drew on the American diner/soda parlour concept that was flourishing in the US for his inspiration (including American menus, ice creams and chocolate). The distinguishing feature of the Black and White Milk Bar was its singular purpose, it exclusively sold just sodas and milkshakes (in the iconic silver-coloured metal milkshake cups with actual fruit in the shake). Mick was an early entrepreneur in the field, later adding Wollongong, Adelaide, Melbourne and Brisbane shops to his milk bar “empire”. (‘1932: Australia’s first milk bar’, Australian Food Timeline, www.australianfoodtimeline.com). Mick Adams and other Greek-Australian small businessmen like him were the pioneers of the milk bar trade in Australia…typically the shops operating as open-all-hours family businesses, cf. postwar migrant Italians in the vanguard of delicatessen culture in Australia𝕓.
Golden Star Milk Bar, Perth (Photo source: M. Coufos)
⊹
Greek cafes with a large dollop of Hollywood glitz The Greek owner-operators in Australia added glamour to their milk bars by infusing the decor with an vibrant American feel…gleaming chrome, neon illumination, plush leather chairs, mirrors, curvilinear Art Deco interiors, soda fountain pumps, snazzy uniforms, American jukeboxes. These early Greek milk bars (and cafés)𝕔 were purveyors of American dreams along with confectionery and sugary flavoured chilled beverages. Macquarie University history academic Leonard Janiszewski describes the agency of the early milk bars as “a kind of Trojan horse for the Americanisation of Australian culture” (‘The story of Australia’s Greek cafes and milk bars’, ABC Radio, Conversations (broadcast 02 May 2016). The milk bar caught on like wildfire—by 1937 there were around 4,000 in Australia, with names like “Olympia”, “The Orion” and “The Paragon”—as they did across the Tasman in New Zealand where the milk bar is known as “the Dairy”.
Milk bars passéBy the 1970s the heyday of the Australian milk bar was well and truly past its use-by-date. Faced with an inability to compete with supermarket chains and multinational-owned petrol stations plus high rents, milk bar closures (together with that of the community corner store) became an increasingly common sight. 7-Eleven-style convenience stores started to pop up everywhere across suburbia to fill the void (‘Remembering the Milk Bar, Australia’s Vanishing Neighbourhood Staple’, Matthew Sedacca, Saveur, 18 January 2018, www.saveur.com).
Olympia, tea and milkshakes (Source: Daily Mail Australia)
⊹
One Greek milk bar that did manage to defy extinction for much longer than most was the Olympia Milk Bar in the inner-Sydney suburb of Stanmore. Taken over by the Fotiou brothers in 1959, the Olympia under surviving brother Nick achieved a kind of local iconic status in recent years for its anachronistic novelty…open late, and always dimly lit, ancient chocolate bar wrappers plastered all over, a yesteryear-looking shop locked in a time warp. The Olympia somehow survived to 2018, until the Council decided to close down the dilapidated milk bar.
Postscript: Green plaque fiascoAttempts since 2017 to commemorate the Black and White Milk Bar as “the world’s first modern milk bar” with a green plaque have met with a roadblock. The plan had been to place the plaque on the original site of the proto-milk bar in Martin Place, Sydney, now the ANZ Tower. The spanner in the works has been the overseas corporate owner of the building who has steadfastly refused to allow the plaque to be mounted on the structure. The matter remains deadlocked with the City of Sydney Council unable to find an alternate, close-by location acceptable to Mr Adams’ relatives (“‘Disrespect’: Frustration grows over plaque for world’s first modern milk bar in Sydney”, Adriana Simos, Greek Herald, 05-Oct-22, www.greekherald.com.au).
Green plaque in limbo!
۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵۵
𝕒a staggering 5,000 customers fronted up on the opening day!
𝕓Mick’s concept of a modern milk bar was later replicated overseas in various places within the Commonwealth and Europe
𝕔the nouns “café” and “milk bar” seem to be interchangeable in describing these Greek-Australian run establishments
When human rights principles buttressed by international law took root across the globe, slavery in both its traditional and modern forms became ever more of a dirty word in First World societies like the US. Little wonder then that faced with the stark realities of such a repugnant and vilified practice staining their own country’s history, some might seek to lay a euphemistic guise over the unpalatable nature of the institution.
⊳ Texas, 1835-36 (Source: texashistory.unt.edu)
˚
“Involuntary relocation”, denial, whitewashing?
One topical example of this involves Texas and its long and vexed relationship with slavery. A conservative group of Texas educators in 2022 proposed that schoolchildren should be taught about the state’s history of “involuntary relocation”, which enables teachers to neatly avoid the dreaded word “slavery” altogether (on the pretext that references to slavery might be too confronting for the tender ears of small children). Needless to say this attempt “to blur out what actually happened in that time in history” has been heavily criticised by progressive historians (‘State education board members push back on proposal to use “involuntary relocation” to describe slavery’, Brian Lopez, The Texas Tribune, 30-Jun-2022, www.texastribune.org)ⓐ.
⊳ The Alamo, San Antonio (Photo: age fotostock)
˚
Texas creation myth
Conservative groups in Texas have good reason to try to bury the spectre of slavery as the institution is very much connected to the state’s most sacred historical symbol, the Battle of the Alamo in 1836. The traditional Alamo story—brave American freedom fighters against the far superior forces of tyrannical México, their heroism inspiring the (Anglo-led) Texians under Sam Houston to achieve independence—is ingrained on the consciousness of all Texans and all flag-waving Americans…it is in fact a story central to the creation myth of Texas. The defenders of the Alamo, so the conventional Anglo narrative goes, made the ultimate sacrifice for liberty. The heroic Alamo myth has been reinforced by fictionalised screen versions of the Alamo’s leaders: Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie and William Travis come across as courageous martyrs for the Texians’ cause (largely thanks to Walt Disney and John Wayne)…in reality they were far from lily-white, Crockett was a slaveholder and an unsuccessful politician who resorted to buying votes, and his glorified death at the Alamo as portrayed on the screen—going down valiantly fighting “evil” Méxicans to the very end—was a fiction (first-hand accounts verify that Crockett surrendered and was executed). Bowie and Travis were both slave traders and the morally dubious Bowie also made a living through smuggling. Hardly 19th century model citizen stuff (Bryan Burrough, Chris Tomlinson & Jason Stanford, Forget the Alamo: The Rise and Fall of an American Myth, (2021)).
⊳ The Alamo according to the John Wayne movie
˚
Slaveholder rebellion, Manifest Destiny, American exceptionalism?
Similarly, the traditional view of why the American colonists revolted—because they were supposedly being oppressed by a tyrannical regime in Mexico City—is at variance with the inconvenient facts. American colonists came to Mexico’s Tejas with the purpose of making money through from cotton, the only viable cash crop in the territory at that time. For this to happen, black slave labour was a necessityⓑ. Once the Texians declared their independence in 1836, the centrality of slavery in the new republic became even more apparent with the institution being enshrined in the Texas constitution. Numbers of slaves in the republic grew exponentially, doubling every few years in the period from 1836 to 1850ⓒ. By 1860 slaves made up nearly one-third of the state’s population. As James Russell noted, rather than being “martyrs to the cause of freedom” as claimed, the defenders of the Alamo could more truthfully be tagged “martyrs to the cause of freedom of slaveholders”(‘Slavery and the myth of the Alamo’, James W. Russell, History News, 28-May-2012, www.historynewsnetwork.org)ⓓ.
꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂
Slavery, mythology and the Civil War
When I went to school in the 1960s I learned that slavery was the cause of the American Civil War, clear and simple, the Southern states wanted to retain the practice and the Northern states wanted to end it. But in the US itself there has been no such consensus. As early as 1866 the defeated South had cobbled together its own, alternate narrative for America’s most costly war.
⊳ The post-bellum myth portrayed a society of happy, docile slaves and benevolent masters as conveyed in the classic film Gone With The Wind
˚
“Lost Cause of the Confederacy”
Southerners depicted the Civil War as a noble “lost cause”, romanticised its soldiers (Robert E Lee the chivalrous Christian gentleman) and constructed a pseudo-historical myth that the war was all about states rights, not slavery, the South was just protecting its agrarian economy against Northern aggression, trying to defend its way of life against the threat posed by the powerful industrial North. In reality, when South Carolina, the first of the Southern states to secede, did so in 1860, it complained that the national government had refused to suppress the civil liberties of northern citizens (ie, its failure to halt Northern interference in the South’s slave industry) (Finkelman, Paul (2012) “States’ Rights, Southern Hypocrisy, and the Crisis of the Union,” Akron Law Review: Vol. 45: Iss. 2, Article 5.
Available at: https://ideaexchange.uakron.edu/akronlawreview/vol45/iss2/5).
Confederacy based on the principle of white supremacy
The Confederacy’s (CSA) philosophical underpinnings rested on an unquestioned sense of white supremacy and black subservience, bolstered by pseudo-scientific ideas of race gaining traction at the time. Suffrage was a right afforded only to CSA’s white males. The South fought to safeguard its “right to hold property in persons”, and to do so in perpetuity (‘The Confederacy Was an Antidemocratic, Centralized State’, Stephanie McCurry, The Atlantic, 21-Jun-2020, www.theatlantic.com).
⊳ Slaves in the cotton field (Artist: John W Jones)
𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧𖧧
ⓐ it didn’t go without notice that this development is occurring at a time that Tejanos (Texas Latinos) are poised to become the majority in the Lone Star state
ⓑ the government for its part had originally invited American migrants to Méxican Texas to populate the vast province and to counter the indigenous peoples, especially Comanches and Apaches, who freely raided and plundered Méxican settlements and ranches
ⓒ fulfilling the founder of Anglo Texas Stephen F Austen’s prediction that the Texas Republic would become “a slave nation”
ⓓ Burroughs et al dismissed the Texas Revolt as “a sooty veneer of myth and folklore”
ROTUND, sardonic Anglo-American auteur Alfred Hitchcock’s oeuvre comprised over 50 feature films but he was no stranger to unfinished or unrealised film projects. Starting with what was meant to be his directorial debut in “Number 13” (AKA “Mrs. Peabody”) in 1922, for the next 57 years Hitch was at the helm for upward of twenty aborted films. Hardly any of the score of unmade movie projects ever got beyond the pre-production stage[1̲̅].
Alfred’s hitch in making ‘Hamlet’⟡There were various reasons why the films never got made…difficulties in location (Walt Disney, the man, not the corporation, wouldn’t let Hitchcock film ”The Blind Man” at Disneyland supposedly because of his disapproval of Psycho); Hitch’s dissatisfaction with scripts[2]; Hitchcock’s ”Titanic” project was waylaid by a string of obstacles including objections from the British shipping industry; some projects were vetoed by producers and studio heads; Hitchcock couldn’t get the female lead he wanted for ”No Bail for the Judge” (Audrey Hepburn)[3]. Hitch’s great success with The 39 Steps prompted him to try to direct film adaptions of other John Buchan novels featuring spy Richard Hannay, eg, ”Greenmantle”, however he couldn’t afford the rights to the book. He even wanted to direct Shakespeare, his enthusiasm to do a modernised version of Hamlet (with Hitchcock favourite Cary Grant cast as the “Melancholy Dane”) was ultimately blunted by the threat of a lawsuit from a writer who had already penned a modern-day version of Shakespeare’s great tragedy (‘Every Unmade Alfred Hitchcock Movie Explained’, Jordan Williams, Screen Rant, 12-Jun-2021, www.screenrant.com).
The final project pursued by Hitchcock was ”The Short Night”—based on a novel of the same name by Ronald Kirkbride and on the exploits of real-life double agent George Blake—which was to be Hitchcock’s red-hot crack at making a “realistic Bond movie”. In an interview with John Russell Taylor for Sight and Sound Hitchcock outlined the story’s great allure for him: ”It’s a situation that fascinates me: the man falls in love with the wife of a man he’s waiting to kill. It’s like a French farce turned inside-out. If he sees a boat coming across the bay with the husband on it, he can’t hop out of the back window, he has to wait and do what he has to do. And of course he can’t take the wife, who loves him, into his confidence. And so the whole romance is overshadowed by this secret, which gives it a special flavour and atmosphere. That’s what I want to convey”.
Poster for the movie that never materialised⟡Originally conceived in the late 1960s (after two uninspiring earlier Hitchcock Cold War espionage features Torn Curtain and Topaz were coolly received), the director scouted locations in Finland. Hitch wanted the “real deal”, Sean Connery, to play the Bondesque double agent protagonist, the director must have been keen on the film…while the project was still parked in pre-production, without anything about the movie being nailed down, Hitch had a poster designed for the movie (‘Alfred Hitchcock’s unrealized projects’, Wikipedia). Alas, scripts were again a problem, Hitch churned through a bunch of writers and a number of different treatments in the search for the ‘right’ script, but an even bigger problem was Hitch himself! Now 80, Hitchcock‘s health was failing badly, he was unfocused and listless on the set[4], he simply was no longer up to it. Towards the end of 1979 Hitchcock quietly retired from the business and ”The Short Night” project was shelved for good.
———————————————
[1̲̅] Hitchcock managed to shoot only a few scenes of “Mrs. Peabody”,before a lack of budget brought the production to a close
[2] the prickly and demanding Hitchcock had fractious relationships with his scriptwriters, he even fell out with his favourites like Ernest Lehman (over Family Plot, contributing to Hitchcock ditching “The Wreck of the Mary Deare” and starting work on the espionage classic North by Northwest
[3] Hitchcock’s uber-creepy obsessiveness with many of his leading ladies (Grace Kelly, Tippi Hedren, Ingrid Bergman among others) has been well documented, eg, Spellbound by Beauty, Donald Spoto (2008)
[4] ”moving in and out of senility” in the view of the last screenwriter parachuted into the project, David Freeman
🇬🇧🔫🇬🇧 THE phenomena of James Bond in both book and movie form was meant to be purely escapist entertainment, bereft of the slightest pretension that they were anything remotely cerebral. Interesting then that Bond has gleaned so much serious academic enquiry and analysis over the years. A sample of articles on JSTOR reveals a feast of scholarly entries on the subject of James Bond — “Shaken, Not Stirred Britishness: James Bond, Race, and the Transnational Imaginary”, “The Marketable Misogyny of James Bond“, “Paradoxical Masculinity: James Bond, Icon of Failure”, “Why James Bond Villains Prefer Post-Soviet Architecture”, “The Spy Who Loved Globalization”, ”How safe do you feel?: James Bond, Skyfall, and the Politics of the Secret Agent in an Age of Ubiquitous Threat”, and so on it goes.
The James Bond film franchise is certainly sui generis among English-language movie series. October 5 this year marked the 60th anniversary of the introduction of James Bond to cinema screen audiences (Dr No, 1962), and the cinematic sequence remains as yet unbroken, notwithstanding ”the elephant in the room” of last year’s No Time To Die in which the indestructible James Bond actually dies! Virtually all other elongated movie series have ultimately reached a natural (or unnatural) termination point – even the long-running, prolific and increasingly unimaginative Carry On comedy series ran out of steam by the Eighties 🄰.
Ian Fleming ‘Casino Royale’, 1st 007 novel (Image: bondfanevents.com)
°
Box office El Dorado Over a six-decade period the 25 movies🄱 constituting the James Bond industry made by Eon Productions (Broccoli and Saltzman’s production company) have earned a total somewhere north of US seven billion dollars. Boosted undoubtedly by the mass popularity of screen Bond🄲 the James Bond spy novels written by former WWII naval intelligence officer Ian Fleming, on which the cinema franchise is based, have themselves racked up sales of more than 60 million copies.
If you came anew to the Bond movies looking for a healthy dose of gritty social realism based on the world of espionage a la John LeCarre, you’d be sadly disappointed. The franchise’s entries are all about fantasy and high-adventure escapism. Unlike the shadowy cloak-and-dagger characters that the real world of spies and secret agents (apparently?) inhabit, James Bond 007 in his public persona is an open book, he doesn’t use a fake name, he doesn’t try to disguise his appearance or furtively hide in dark corners. He’s direct, brash, brutal and recklessly undisciplined in his actions and antics, with a propensity to be easily distracted from the assignment at hand by the happy prospect of a spot of horizontal folk-dancing.
Though wildly successful at the box office over an extraordinarily long shelf life, James Bond is not everyone’s cup of tea. An early critic Judith Crist described the series’ first vehicle Dr No as “an updated comic strip of the Fu Manchu school, fast moving, faster shooting, utterly fantastic”. JB has been pilloried by feminists for his unrepentant chauvinism—especially in Sean Connery and Roger Moore’s interpretations of the character—and four decades of “Bond Girl“ objectification of women. The backlash against JB’s misogyny compelled producers to tone down the blatant sexism in the most recent incarnation of the most famous of all British secret agents played by Daniel Craig. Bond has also been excoriated as a “thug trained to wear a tuxedo”…007’s “license to kill” green-light unleashes the agent’s deep predilection for perpetrating extreme, lethal violence in cold blood.
Predictable Bondery Then there’s the plots! The storylines are more than fanciful…James Bond’s arch-villains hatch mind-bogglingly ludicrous schemes which suggest that they have been maxing out on the Kool-Aid – such as nuking Fort Knox’s gold reserves; constructing a massive capsule-gobbling rocket to capture the space crafts of both superpowers; detonating explosives along the Californian fault lines to destroy Silicon Valley; ad nauseum. The franchise has also been lambasted for being BORING! Agent 007 has been called out for living “the same story over and over” (Elizabeth Winterhalter). Repetition is a constant motif…we see Bond right on cue rendezvous with a typically crotchety “M” to be briefed on his latest world-rescue mission, flirting with Miss Moneypenny in their regular tête-à-tête ritual, and getting a rundown on the very latest weapon gadgetry from an equally irascible “Q”. In every second scene, just about, JB is pursued by a posse of miscellaneous henchmen only to miraculously escape certain death by the barest of margins every time. The movies almost invariably end in the same formulaic fashion: Bond infiltrates the arch-villain’s impregnable lair, triumphs over the likes of Blofeld and Goldfinger and numerous assorted henchmen, and finishes by bedding his leading lady on an inflatable dingy, in space, a balcony, etc and signing off to “M” with a corny double entendre🄳.
Bond with “Jaws”, larger than life henchman-turned-ally
°
Cultural relevance to the West Some Bondphiles have an altogether different take on this Groundhog Dog trait in James Bond of repeating the same basic plot structure infinitum…they see it as a key ingredient of the franchise’s success: ”the simplicity of the plot arch allows the films to seamlessly transcend and become culturally relevant to the audience” (‘What is the Secret of James Bond’s Eternal Success?’, www.undandy.com). Another explanation of James Bond’s allure contends that the fictional MI6 spy instantly resonated with Western audiences in the climate of the Cold War, being seen as a kind of antidote to the prevailing morass of the social order (especially in the US). 007’s talent as a fixer of “global crises” casts him in the guise of a saviour salvaging the world from an inevitable downward spiral into chaos and discord (‘James Bond and America in the Sixties’, Drew Moniot, JUFA, Vol.28, No.3, 1976). Moniot also attributes JB’s popularity in America to the existence of a vacuum of real-life heroes in 1960s society, the emergence of 007, a mythological hero who was invincible, fulfilled that psychological need at that time.
British Bond and foreign Blofeld
°
Vicarious🄴 charm of the bon vivant lifestyle Part of the appeal lies in the character of James Bond. Fleming visualised 007 as fit, sensual, with superior grey matter and a technical wiz, a model of “red-blooded heterosexuality”. He also emphasises Bond’s “Britishness” in the novels, JB’s 100% success rate on missions and in the romance stakes presents Bond as representing the “Best of British”… Fleming’s idea of an antidote to the sad realities of a declining Britain denuded of empire. Leaving aside the ever-present mortal danger to his very existence, Bond leads “a ridiculously good lifestyle (by) any man’s standards”🄵(Undandy), his appearance is akin to a “GQ cover model”; an endless supply of the best alcohol (which the MI6 agent knocks back with worryingly frequency); the best cars (trademark Aston Martin DB5); his apparently irresistible sex appeal to women (‘Bond by rules’, Tim Brayton, 2012, www.alternateending.com). As crime doyen Raymond Chandler neatly put it, “Every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.
Tropeville central Aside from JB’s personal magnetism, the series’ catalogue of recurring tropes helps to cement the franchise’s appeal. Familiar ingredients include the default opening sequence depicting 007 in action through the prism of a gun barrel; over-the-top hi-tech gadgets; a smorgasbord of diverse exotic locations; a brisk cocktail of action stunts (car chases, boat chases, ski pursuits, etc); the centre-stage presence of the Bond Girls and of a megalomaniacal arch-villain mastermind; all eagerly anticipated by James Bond‘s legion of rusted-on fans. Also adding value and lustre to the films are the high quality title-songs – like the utterly unforgettably iconic Goldfinger theme, and not far behind that Shirley Bassey classic, Live and Let Die, Diamonds Are Forever, and You Only Live Twice, etc, etc.
Bond, tapping into the zeitgeist of the day One (insider) view on the longevity of James Bond comes from those at the helm of the multi-billion dollar franchise today, Cubby Broccoli’s daughter Barbara and his step-son Michael Wilson. Broccoli’s heirs attribute the success to the family having managed to keep hold of the franchise’s reins throughout its entire history, and to JB’s and the franchise’s adaptability, 007 being able to change with the times🄶 (‘Why James Bond Has Endured For So Long, According to the Franchise Producer’, Joshua Meyer, Film, 8-Dec-2021, www.slashfilm.com).
Footnote: James Bond, books v films
The early James Bond movies kept pretty faithful to the plots of Ian Fleming’s crime thrillers, however as the series went on, the screen adaptations bore increasingly less resemblance to the novels (eventually everything except the Fleming titles were jettisoned). Other differences relate to the protagonist himself, 007’s proclivity for terminating with extreme prejudice (and without a skerrick of compunction) the various henchmen aligned against him increases tenfold from the books to the movies, as does his appetite for sexual conquests whilst on the job. Another point of departure from the novels for the films is the lack of story continuity from one picture to the next (eg, Bond in a grieving state at his wife’s murder at the end of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service doesn’t get a mention in the follow-up Bond feature).
─═══─═══─═══─═══─═══─═══─
🄰 probably the closest to it is the Star Wars franchise (1977 to the present)
🄱 there was in addition one non-Eon Bond film, Never Say Never Again, a Taliafilm production
🄲 even Bond’s snobbish swipe at the Beatles in Goldfinger at the height of Beatlemania in 1964 didn’t dent his appeal with the public
🄳 with one or two notable exceptions…On Her Majesty’s Secret Service ends with the death of Mrs James Bond and No Time To Die ends with the death of 007 himself
🄴 in creating the overachieving superspy Fleming was in fact acting out his own vicarious impulses…endowing 007 with the sort of ideal, action-man hero lifestyle that the writer dreamt of
🄵 one writer characterised it as “elegant lifestyle porn” (Brayton)
🄶 one example: in the rebooted Skyfall (2012), the film and JB concern themselves with the very real and very contemporary threat of the ubiquity of the internet and cyber-terrorism
Mention the topic of classic European comic strips and the names Astérix and Tintin spring instantly to mind. Previously I delved into the stupendous comic book institution that is Astérix the Gaul in the blog ‘The Astérix Series: High Comic Art with a Few Dark Shadows’ (19 November 2022). The Tintin comic strip shares with Astérix the same high pedestal of best-selling popularity, enduring iconic status and attendant cult following. Tintin is a boy reporter❶ of unspecified age with a distinctive (carrot) blond quiff of hair and trademark plus-fours who embarks on numerous adventures to exotic locations accompanied by his companions: a white wire fox terrier Snowy (Fr: Milou), Captain Haddock the good-hearted dipsomaniac seafarer and Professor Calculus, a genius if absent-minded inventor. Since the publication of the first Tintin comic book in 1929 total sales of Tintin books have clocked up more than 200 million copies, with an appeal that reaches both adults and children❷.
Hergé with a cinematic clone of his fictional boy hero࿏
Graphical style
Tintin’s creator wrote and published under the name of Hergé (real name: Georges Remi)…the Belgian cartoonist pioneered a distinctive drawing style for comic strips which later became known as Ligne claire (“Clear line”) (coined by Dutch cartoonist Joost Swarte in 1977). This comprises ”uniform strong lines, flat saturated colour” and “clearly delineated shapes and volumes” (‘The Afterlife of Tintin’, Jenny Hendrix, LA Review of Books, 27-Dec-2022, www.lareviewofbooks.org).
Blighted by propaganda, racism and chauvinismTintin was instantly and massively popular right from the cartoon’s onset—boosted by Hergé’s innovative use of speech bubbles, an American invention unfamiliar to the European comic scene at the time—despite this the comic has garnered its fair share of flak as has Hergé, the author. The first three books, Tintin in the Land of the Soviets, Tintin in the Congo and Tintin in America, in particular drew the ire of critics. The first with its unsubtle anti-communist message was much disparaged as “cheap right-wing propaganda for small children” (Harry Thompson, Hergé: Tintin and his Creator (2011). The Congo and America books were pilloried in some circles for blatantly racist depictions of native populations. The youthful Hergé, swayed by a conservative Catholic upbringing, was very much a creature of the time and his crude depictions of the Black African tribes in particular reflected a prevailing Eurocentric sense of superiority and prejudice. Tintin Au Congo praises the virtues of colonialism and missionaries and expresses a wholly patronising view of the local Africans who are portrayed as primitive, lazy and infantile❸ (‘Hergé’, Lambiek Comiclopedia, www.lambiek.net). Another criticism of the Tintin comics is the charge of sexism, women are almost completely erased from the stories – the one female figure with anything like a steady presence in the books is operatic diva Bianca Castafiore who is portrayed unflatteringly as foolish and imperceptive (Hergé pointedly is on record as saying women have no part in the stories which “are all about male friendship”).
In the early Sixties there were 2 French-made film adaptations of Tintin࿏Other discordant voices against Tintin’s author surfaced during the Nazi occupation of Belgium during WWII. Hergé worked for collaborationist pro-Nazi newspapers Le Petit Vingtième and Le Soir and elements of Anti-Semitism emerged in his presentation of Jews. Unfortunately it didn’t end with the war, Jewish racial stereotypes also reappear in postwar Tintin stories, eg, Vol 714 pour Sydney (‘Flight 714 to Sydney’). A parody by Belgian cartoonist Dubus depicting a captive Tintin begging businessman Rodwell for his liberty (Source: Sydney Morning Herald)࿏
”Kidnapping” a children’s icon?
Since Hergé’s death in 1983 Tintin’s artistic providence and the author’s estate has been rigidly controlled to the nth degree by his widow Fanny Vlamynck and her second husband Nick Rodwell. Hergé’s heirs through their management firm Moulinsart S.A. Moulinsart spearheaded by an unflinching Rodwell have obsessively pursued a crusade, suing everybody who uses Hergé or Tintin’s name or image without their permission. Not content with cracking down on bootleggers, plagiarists and copyright infringers, perversely they have targeted Tintin parodists, students, collectors, fan clubs, comic stores and people auctioning original artwork as well. They even tried to block journalists from taking unauthorised photographs at the Hergé Museum opening event (Lambiek). Individuals subjected to Moulinsart’s trigger-quick lawsuits include a French novelist who reproduced a drawing of Tintin in a book with a print run of only 200 copies and an elderly artist (and friend of Hergé) who painted the image of Tintin on some old bottles (‘Meet Nick Rodwell, Tintin heir and least popular man in Belgium’, Julien Oeuillet, Sydney Morning Herald, 30-Oct-2015, www.smh.com.au). Bart Beaty, a professor of comics at the University of Calgary, described Moulinsart as being “relentless in the protection of the Tintin copyrights even to the point of discouraging academic study of the Tintin books” (‘Moulinsart Lost A Legal Case At The Hague Over Tintin Rights’, Comics Reporter, 08-Jun-2025, www.comicsreporter.com). Other detractors including Hergé’s nephew have pointed out how under Moulinsart‘s direction “a hero dedicated to children has become the lynchpin of a profit-minded machine that is stifling the enthusiasm of Tintin admirers“ (‘Fans of Tintin cry foul’, Stanley Pignal, Financial Times, 08-May-2010, www.ft.com).
Moulinsart have mined the full depths of Tintin’s merchandising potential, many spin-off items priced at the luxury high-end
Genootschap (Source: www.hergegenootschap.nl/)࿏A small win for Tintinphiles and Tintinologists
The pattern shifted a few years ago when Moulinsart and Rodwell’s attempt to prosecute a small Dutch fanzine of Tintin Hergé Genootschap (Hergé Society (or Fellowship)) for including Hergé’s strip in its newsletter backfired badly❹. In a surprise twist a Dutch court in 2015 ruled that a 1942 contract between Hergé and his publisher Ediciones Casterman presented by the defence gave Casterman, NOT Moulinsart, the rights to publish the 22 Tintin albums. The right “to exploit extracts of the books and pictures” however still belong to the Hergé heirs (‘Tintin and the Copyright Mystery, Carolina Sánchez, Lady Trademark, 06-Oct-2015, www.ladytrademark.blogspot.com).
Fmr Australian prime minster Kevin Rudd satirised as Tintin
Endnote: Imitating Tintin
Parodies and pastiches satirising Tintin have been around since the 1940s. When Hergé compromised his reputation by publishing (Tintin) in a collaborationist-run Belgium newspaper” in war-time, it provoked a satire of Tintin, ‘Tintin au Pays des Nazis’ (‘Tintin in the Land of the Nazis’). Other parodies featuring Tintin include as a disaffected working class English youth who turns to political radicalism; ‘Tintin in Lebanon’ and ‘Tintin in Iraq’, embroiling Hergé’s “golden boy” in the intractable maze of Middle East conflicts; ‘Tintin in The Shire’, Tintin as a stereotypical Sydney bogan, etc.❺
≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖
❶ though he acts more like a detective, investigating crimes and mysteries and at times carries a pistol and even makes arrests
❷ according to Tintin’s publishing house the books are marketed for “the youth between 7 and 77 years old” demographic
❸ to his credit Hergé did redress some of the crude and xenophobic representations of the earlier books in Le Lotus Bleu (‘The Blue Lotus’, 1934-35) in which Hergé depicts China and the Chinese people with more accuracy and evenness (Lambiek)
❹ Rodwell’s attempt to sue a French artist who did mash-ups of Tintin and Edward Hopper paintings was also thrown out of court with the judge determining that the artist’s works were legitimate parodies of Tintin which was fair game
❺ “most of these parodies would probably have remained obscure curiosities, if it weren’t for Moulinsart’s active attempts to hunt the makers down, giving them more publicity” (Lambiek)
When it comes to Hollywood horror cinema, zombies, vampires and Frankensteinish monsters seem to take pride of place in the Pantheon of celluloid supernatural “baddies”. The werewolf𝟙 on the other hand has tended to be find himself assigned to a backseat in the screen horror caper, often consigned to a secondary role, “second banana” to some other omnipotent monstrous brute, eg, as in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943)𝟚.
Wolfmania ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ Cinema-goers got their first glimpse of werewolf horror in 1935 in a Universal film called Werewolf of London…storyline: an English botanist contracts lycanthropy after being bitten by a Tibetan werewolf, result, werewolf terror in London. But it was another Universal movie six years later, The Wolf Man𝟛, written by Curt Siodmak, that elevated the werewolf character to horror flick star status, making its star Lon Chaney Jr into an icon of the genre. The Wolf Man is a sympathetic “portrayal of a man who has no power over the raging beast within “ (Jim Vorel, ‘The 100 Best Horror Movies of All Time’, Paste, 5-Oct-2022, www.pastemagazine.com.
Chaney & Evelyn Akers in ‘The Wolf Man’
The premise in The Wolf Man and its various spin-offs is that the main character (Larry Talbot) is transformed into a therianthropic (hybrid) wolf-like creature, the result of either a curse or a bite or scratch. The film popularised many of the planks of werewolf mythology. The lycanthrope’s metamorphosis is triggered by a full moon; the werewolf is killed only by a silver bullet; the protagonist’s silver-headed walking cane, etc. Although there has been werewolves depicted on the silver screen before The Wolf Man, Chaney’s portrayal was “the incarnation that solidified much of the (werewolf) lore as we know it today” (‘The Werewolf Classic That Defined A Genre’, Stephanie Cole, Nightmare on Film Street, 28-Jan-2019, www.nofspodcast.com).
The Wolf Man formula was eminently copyable…Chaney reprised his Wolf man role in a sequel Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, described as Universal’s first “Monster Mash”𝟜 (‘Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man’, TV Tropes, www.tvtropes.org), and then in 2010 there was a remake of Wolf Man with Benicio Del Toro in the title role. All three movies are serious flicks, straight-up pure horror movies. Many other Hollywood versions of the werewolf legend however have been out and out comedies or horror/comedies. Box office-topping comedy duo of the Forties and Fifties Abbott and Costello were unenthusiastic about a Monster Mash movie, however the producers wanted to exploit the emerging screen popularity of “Franky” and “Wolfie” – the result: Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948) (with the Wolf Man thrown into the mix). The movie didn’t radiate much joy with the critics but proved a massive hit with fans, spawning a series of Abbott and Costello horror-themed comedies.
One werewolf comedy-horror flick emanating out of Hollywood that has scored some critical kudos is John Landis’ 1981 An American Werewolf in London 𝟝. The film’s successful blending of comedy and humour and its innovative if grisly makeup made it a cult classic and a box office triumph, returning over ten times its original outlay. More blandly prosaic is Teen Wolf (1985) with Michael J Fox as an average high school kid who shape-shifts into a werewolf. Described as a romantic, coming-of-age fantasy movie, it got mixed reviews but struck gold at the box office, taking in over $US80 million on a budget of just $US1.2 million.
Folklore: Werewolves in the popular psyche⌖ ⌖ ⌖ The werewolf may have been a subject for fun and even derision in the world of cinema, but in past times it has been viewed with total seriousness, especially in Europe. The genesis of the werewolf legend is nebulous, but the notion of a human taking a (malevolent) animal form is millennias old. Depictions of and references to men taking on a lupine appearance goes back to antiquity. From Medieval times folklore-driven fear of the werewolf was common in Europe and led to werewolf panics, especially in areas such as France and Germany which contained large populations of wild wolves (“A German Werewolf’s ‘Confessions’ horrified 1500s Europe”, Isabel Hernández, National Geographic, 13-Oct-2022, www.nationalgeographic.co.uk).
While Hollywood favoured the view that potent curses, wolf bites and full moons were the transformative agents for human to werewolf form, German folk tales from centuries ago reveal that all a man needs to do to turn into a ravaging lupine monster doing the Devil’s work is to don a belt or strap made from wolf’s fur (‘Werewolf Legends from Germany’, edited & translated by D.L. Asliman, www.sites.pitt.edu).
Lycanthropy/witchcraft nexus ⌖ ⌖ ⌖
In the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern era the hunting down and persecution of alleged werewolves and alleged witches to some extent went hand-in-hand. It was not uncommon for people accused of being witches by the church to be vilified for supposedly also being werewolves. The supposed ability of both to “shapeshift” seems to be at the nub of this guilt by association (‘Werewolves and Witchcraft’, Danny Sargent, Llewellyn, 13-Oct-2021, www.llewellyn.com).
London pamphlet (1590), primary source for Stumpf trial
Werewolf of Bedburg ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ If you were outed as a putative werewolf in this age of werewolf hysteria you could expect swift and savage, even barbaric, retribution from inquisitors, witchfinder-generals and other coercive control mechanisms of the state. One of the worst instances came from the Nordrhein-Westfalen region of Germany in the late 16th century. Peter Stumpf (or Peeter Stubbe), an alleged serial killer was accused and tried for werewolvery, witchcraft and cannibalism in 1589. Stumpf’s execution was one of the most brutal recorded – torn apart limb by limb on a wheel, beheaded and his body burned𝟞. Stumpf may or may not have been a serial killer𝟟, what he wasn’t is a werewolf. The wealthy farmer’s “confession” was extracted under torture and there is a suggestion that he might have the victim of political sectarianism. At a time of heightened Catholic/Protestant antagonisms, Stumpf is believed to have been a convert to Protestantism, so it may have been payback (‘Peter Stumpp: The Werewolf of Bedburg’, Darcie Nadel, Exemplore, 17-Aug-2022, www.exemplore.com; ‘Zum Fall Peter Stump’, www.elmar-lorry.de).
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||>
𝟙 Old English: “wer” + “wulf”, literally “man/wolf”
𝟚 not to neglect a raft of others, minor supernatural fiends on the big screen, such as The Invisible Man, The Mummy and Gillman
𝟛 highly commended for its special effects by makeup artist maestro Jack Pierce who had provided FX for earlier classics of the horror genre, Frankenstein and The Mummy
𝟜 a coming together of monsters
𝟝 influential critic Roger Ebert was a dissenting voice on the movie’s merits
𝟞 it was believed that burning was another of the very few ways a werewolf could be killed
Anyone brought up on a diet of American comics or television since the 1960s would have come across that ultimate icon of juvenile mischief, “Dennis Mitchell”, better known as Dennis the Menace. Fictional Dennis from “Middletown” USA imprinted himself on the public consciousness first as a character in cartoons and comic books from the early Fifties, later as the subject of a popular American TV series (1959-1962), and then as a movie in 1993{a}.
Source: Pinterest
But if you happen to live on the opposite side of the Atlantic and are a similar consumer of comic strip popular culture then you are probably going to be more familiar with another and rather different “Dennis the Menace”. To generation after generation of Britons Dennis the Menace is not American, but a beloved, homegrown comic character who emerged out of a classic Scottish-based comic weekly The Beano in the 1950s.
The coincidence of two identically named sub-adult comic book characters evolving separately and independently has an even more remarkable, almost unbelievable, parallel. The two Dennises debuted as comic strip characters on either side of the Atlantic on the exact same day, 12th March 1951. Which “Dennis“ was conceived first by his respective creator cannot be known, but the two Eureka moments were certainly distinctively different.
Ketcham (1953), not dissimilar to Dennis Mitchell’s father in appearance
Genesis story of Dennis I and II
George Moonie (Britain) and Hank Ketcham (US) were the creators of their respective “Dennises”. For The Beano editor Moonie the idea and the name came to him when he heard the chorus of a music hall song…”I’m Dennis the Menace from Venice” and the name stuck. In American Hank Ketcham’s case his wife was the catalyst when she complained to the cartoonist about their four-year-old son Dennis‘ errant behaviour, describing him as “a menace”.
Source: Beano Studios
Both the British Dennis and the American Dennis have a talent for creating mayhem in the neighbourhood. Physically though they bear little resemblance to each other. Ketcham’s Dennis is a yellow-haired four (or five)-year-old, cherub-like boy with freckles, perpetually garbed in red overalls, whereas the British Dennis–as drawn by cartoon artist David Law—is a ten-year-old tearaway with a thatch of black spiky hair, shown always wearing his trademark red and black striped jumper.
Just WilliamPersonality-wise the two Dennises are also quite a bit different. American Dennis’ mischievous ways annoy the hell out of adults, especially the Wilson’s’ long-suffering next door neighbour Mr (George) Wilson, but this Dennis is affable and basically a well-intentioned if compulsive-obsessive little boy. British Dennis on the other hand is real juvenile delinquent material, his full-on troublemaking antics mark him out as an unreformed and unrepentant bad boy, a hooligan in the making. Dennis can be seen as part of an Anglo tradition of naughty boys in kid’s lit connecting with the likes of famous fictional schoolboy Just William and Horrid Henry , [‘Dennis at 60’, BBC, 07-Mar-2011, www.bbc.com]
Sidekicks
British Dennis’ “besties” are Curly and Pie-Face (fellow “menaces”) but also prominent in the story is Dennis’ girl cousin Hermione Makepeace AKA Minnie the Minx, a rival to Dennis in the carnage creation stakes with a reputation as Beanotown’s “wildest tomboy”. Dennis Mitchell’s friends are the rather nondescript and naively loyal Joey and the feisty Margaret Wade who’s more of a frenemy and occasional nemesis to “The Menace”.
Canine deuteragonists
Boy’s best friend…both Dennises have a dog companion although Moonie/Law’s Dennis’ dog Gnasher—an Abyssinian Wire-haired Tripe Hound with black spiky hair to match its owner—didn’t get to make an appearance in the strips until Issue 1362 in 1968. Dennis Mitchell’s dog Ruff is a dog of a very different proportion, a Briad (a large French sheepdog{b})
Postscript: Bringing Dennis into line with the modern world
The arrival of the UK’s Dennis the Menace strip was a godsend to The Beano, boosting the comic mag’s flagging sales at the time. Today it is still The Beano‘s star vehicle{c} although the editors have had to tone down Dennis and some of his rougher edges. The 21st century Dennis the Menace is less anti-social, his more unsavoury traits such as bullying have been eradicated to conform to modern sensitivities [‘Beano hero: Dennis the Menace turns 70’, Alison Flood, The Guardian, 17-Mar-2021, www.theguardian.com]
࿐ྂ࿐ྂ࿐ྂ࿐ྂ࿐ྂ࿐ྂ
{a} not to neglect several other iterations of Menace-Dennis in TV movies including at least one animation feature
{b} a Briad on the screen at least, in the comic strips Ruff’s breed is not clarified
{c} the British Dennis has also made it onto the TV screen but to a more modest extent than his American counterpart
Gobeithio y gwnewch chi fwynhau eich arhosiad yma.
“We hope you have a pleasant stay in Portmeirion.”
༺༺༺𓇬༺༺༺
Image: nytimes.com
British architect Sir (Bertram) Clough Williams-Ellis spent half a century (1925 to 1976) on a pet construction and town planning project in the Snowdonia region of North Wales, handcrafting his ideal of a village from scratch. The eccentric, autodidactic architect with a penchant for wearing knickerbockers called his back country village “Portmeirion”, drawing inspiration for his Welsh labour of love from the Italian Riviera fishing village of Portofino. What Williams-Ellis created was a scaled-down village comprising a picturesque patch-quilt of individual buildings built primarily for decoration, known in the architectural business as follies.
Photo: Pinterest / M Serigrapher
Piecing together the mosaic
Architecturally, Portmeirion is “an eclectic pastiche” (Gruffudd 1965) with stylistic borrowings from Gaudi, the Mediterranean and the Italian Renaissance, from the Arts and Crafts Movement and from Nordic Classicism et al, juxtaposed and intertwined together. Trompe l’oeil windows, Baroque murals, gargoyles, inverted copper cauldron, Classical details, all contributing to a quirky, multi-coloured panorama of buildings with a Mediterranean feel – in North Wales. Williams-Ellis sourced materials from disused estates and ruined castles across the UK for the village. (“Portmeirion Village: Fifty Years Since The Welsh Resort Starred In TV’s Iconic ‘The Prisoner’”, John Oseid, Forbes, 22-Mar-2017, www.forbes.com). Williams-Ellis’s use of salvaged fragments led him to describe his creation as “a home for fallen buildings”.
Reconciling structures with landscape
Williams-Ellis was a champion of preserving rural life, inspiring a Welsh movement, CPRW, guardians of Cymru Wledig…his philosophy applied to architecture was that “the development of a naturally beautiful site need not lead to its defilement”, new buildings, done well, could enhance the landscape (‘Portmeirion: A Passion for Landscape and Buildings’, Rachel Hunt, Gwanwyn, Spring 2018, cprw.org.uk). For the site of his cherished Italianate village William-Ellis choose a “neglected wilderness” which had formerly been part of the Aber Iâ① estate. Over the years the constituent parts of the village took shape – the Citadel (an Italianate campanile (bell tower)), Battery Square, Village Green, Gothic pavilion, Bristol Colonnade, blue-domed Pantheon and statue of Hercules, Italianate landscaped gardens. The Victorian manor from the old estate was transformed into the village hotel. The plan had been to incorporate a 19th century castle, Castell Deudraeth (named after an extinct 12th century castle in the locale), but this didn’t happen in Clough’s lifetime. Since 2001 the castellated building has functioned as a hotel for Portmeirion tourists.
Source: wheretogowithkids.co.uk
Academic architecture hasn’t rated Portmeirion highly, tending to dismiss it as an “idiosyncratic playground of little interest”, a mere “hodge-podge” of differing styles (Manosalva, M.A., 2021. One-man-band: Clough Williams-Ellis’ Architectural Ensemble at Portmeirion. ARENA Journal of Architectural Research, 6(1), p.3. DOI: http://doi.org/10.5334/ajar.268). Not that this in any way deflected Williams-Ellis from single-mindedly pursuing his own peculiarly personal architectural vision of a “fantasy village”②… the architect freely admitted to taking what he described as “a light opera approach”, wanting to give people architecture that was pleasurable and fun to behold and enjoy.
‘The Prisoner’ being filmed on site (Source: radio times.com)
Sixties‘ TV spy culture augments the Village’s celebrity and tourism
While Portmeirion’s uniqueness guaranteed its fame and its standing as a niche holiday resort, its selection as the set for a cult 1960’s TV series magnified that fame exponentially. The Prisoner, a Sci-fi dystopian series, created by and starring Patrick McGoohan, was filmed in and around the village in 1966-67. The 17-episode series about a government agent who finds himself mysteriously transported to a beautiful, charming but bizarre community—where for inhabitants, imprisoned betwixt mountains and sea, there is no escape — a community impersonalised to the point where everyone is a number and no one knows who’s in charge. The Prisoner‘s enduring cult status has ensured a constant stream of loyal fans from far and near making the pilgrimage to Portmeirion each year (Covid permitting). The local tourist industry has done its bit to capitalise with a Prisoner souvenir shop, tours of the film locations, etc. The giant chessboard in the square which appeared in the TV show has been (permanently) reconstructed to further cash in on the series’ appeal.
Beatle George visits the Village – “fab!” (Source: North Wales Live)
Endnote: Enticing the rich and famous
A host of celebrities can be numbered among the endless throng of visitors to Portmeirion over the decades…GB Shaw, HG Wells, Bertram Russell, Frank Lloyd Wright③, Brian Epstein, George Harrison, to name but a few. Noel Coward wrote the first draft of his comic play Blithe Spirit during a stay at the seaside resort.
༺༺༺༺༺༺༺༺༺
① Welsh: “ice estuary”
② when his architectural “day job”, designing other people’s houses and buildings in various parts of the UK and Ireland allowed it
③ apparently FLW approved of the architecture of the place
”Greetings everybody, this is your number one enemy” (typical sign-on for“Tokyo Rose”)
⌖⌖⌖
Image: National WWII Museum
In just about every movie and television series Hollywood has made involving Japan and WWII the name of “Tokyo Rose” invariably seems to pop up. Its a standard trope in American war dramas and TV comedies like McHale’s Navy. The San Francisco Chronicle called Tokyo Rose “the Mata Hari of radio”. However, unlike Mata Hari(ǟ), there was no actual “Tokyo Rose”. The name was generic, applied to some dozen or so English speaking Japanese women radio broadcasters who penetrated the airways of American, Australian and New Zealand servicemen in the Pacific theatre of war. Tokyo Rose wasn’t even confined to Tokyo, the female propagandists operated from several cities in the Japanese Empire including Manila, Shànghâi and Tokyo(ɮ).
Many Tokyo Roses but one message
The Tokyo Rose broadcasts would follow a familiar pattern…in between spinning American pop records (to remind the GIs of home), the women in conversational manner would make jokes and taunt the servicemen in an attempt to sap their morale and blunt their appetite for war(ƈ). Paradoxically, for some of her American GI audience the Tokyo Rose radio broadcasts had an opposite effect, they were popular as entertainment and “a welcome distraction from the monotony of their duties” (‘How ‘Tokyo Rose’ Became WWII’s Most Notorious Propagandist’, Evan Andrews, Upd. History, 26-Nov-2019, www.history.com).
Listening to Tokyo Rose on Zero Hour (Source: psywarrior.com)
As stories of Tokyo Rose were spread between GIs, she took on a mythic element in American minds, it was said her snippets of information were “unnervingly accurate (about the Allies), naming units and even individual servicemen” (‘Tokyo Rose (1944)’, www.publicdomainreview.org). The ramifications of this belief were to prove momentous later on for one of the women identified as Tokyo Rose — see Note (ɖ).
Iva at the mike
Iva Toguri/“Orphan Ann”, the ‘real’ Rose?
American opinion hit on a surprising candidate for the real identity of Tokyo Rose, Iva Ikuko Toguri (D’Aquino). Toguri was one of its own, a US citizen of Japanese descent born in Los Angeles who found herself stuck in Japan as hostilities broke out between the two countries. Coerced into broadcasting on Japan’s ‘Radio Zero’ shortwave station as a disc jockey, Toguri played records and performed comedy sketches. She did appeal in her friendly American voice to lonely GIs to return to their loved ones in the US but her propaganda value to the Japanese was considered limited. Returning to the US after the war Toguri, labelled by the press as “the one and only Tokyo Rose”, was eventually tried in 1949. Toguri’s conviction for treason was dubiously arrived at and it was widely felt she was made a scapegoat (‘Tokyo Rose’, Upd. 6-Oct-2020, www.biography.com). The supposed “Tokyo Rose” was sentenced to 10 years in prison and fined $10,000, serving six years and two months. On release she spent overs 20 years living in Chicago ‘stateless’ before a fresh investigation of the case discovered two of the prosecution witnesses had been coerced by the Justice authorities into perjuring themselves…consequently President Ford pardoned her in 1977 (‘Iva Toguri Patriot’, American Veterans Center, (YouTube video, 2021)
A parallel but very different story to Tokyo Rose is that of Mitsu Yashima. In the 1930s Mitsu (born Tomoe Sasako), a Japanese artist, was pro-peace, anti-military and anti-imperialist in an increasingly militaristic right wing Japan. After imprisonment and torture for her left-leaning views she and her husband escaped to the US in 1939. Once America committed to the World War Mitsu joined the war effort – working for the Office of Strategic Services, she used her language skills to broadcast anti-Japanese propaganda through the airwaves. On radio she made a particular pitch to the women of Japan, urging them to commit acts of sabotage aimed at helping to bring the Japanese military machine to a halt (‘Mitsu Yashima’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org ; ‘The Epic Lives of Taro and Mitsu Yashima’, Greg Robinson, Valerie Matsumoto, Discover Nikkei, 11-Sep-2018, www.discovernikkei.org).
Credit: IMDb
Postscript: Hollywoodised Tokyo Rose
As the war in the Pacific was reaching its climax the US made its own propaganda capital out of Tokyo Rose with a 1946 potboiler of a movie of the same name. Tokyo Rose exploited and sensationalised the story, The feature was “not merely a fiction, but a dangerous distortion of the truth”…according to Greg Robinson, it depicts the title character‘s radio propaganda as being “directly responsible for the death of demoralised American soldiers” and thus contributed to the jaundiced atmosphere that pervaded the subsequent trial of Iva Toguri (‘Tokyo Rose: The Making of a Hollywood Myth’, Greg Robinson, Discover Nikkei, 01-Nov-2021, www.discovernikkei.org).
▓ See earlier blogs on Lord Haw-Haw and Axis Sally in this series of war radio propaganda broadcasters, WWII’s Psychological Warriors of the Airwaves, Part 1 and Part 2
︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻
(ǟ) ”Mata Hari”, the nom de plume of a Dutch exotic dancer executed by the French for allegedly spying for Germany during WWI
(ɮ) none of the female radio hosts ever referred to themselves as “Tokyo Rose” on air (it was purely an American invention”)
(ƈ) and as with her Axis counterpart in Europe, Axis Sally, the Tokyo Roses would try to sow little seeds of doubt in GI minds about the fidelity of their wives and girlfriends in America
The image stereotype of the Sherlock Holmes character (Source: Culture Livresque)
⌖
Few characters from modern literature pop up on cinema screens and TV sets as frequently as Sherlock Holmes does. Some observers have stated it more firmly. Christopher Redmond estimates that Sherlock Holmes is the most prolific screen character in the history of cinema (A Sherlock Holmes Handbook (1994)). Just how many different Sherlock Holmes screen adaptions have been made is too large and elusive a number to pin down accurately, but screen vehicles of Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous super-sleuth and Mensa-alumni certainly number in the hundreds✱.
(Photo: CrimeReads)
A publishing can of worms
When Arthur Conan Doyle (ACD) died in 1930 the author left his literary works in Trust to his widow (Jean Conan Doyle) and immediate family. But in excluding his daughter Mary from his first marriage, ACD opened the door to an ongoing family rift, decades of squabbles, strife and litigation by his heirs, descendants and their spouses.
As the intra-family ‘Barney’ over who controls the copyright to the Sherlock Holmes works deepened, the imbroglio entangled an investment company specifically set up to manage the windfall (aptly named “Baskervilles Investments”) and even the Royal Bank of Scotland (‘History of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Copyrights’, (2015), www.arthurconandoyle.com).
1954 Holmes TV series with Ronald Howard (Photo: dvdfr.com)⌖
The upshot of the kerfuffle was that each of the competing parties claimed to be the rightful holder of the rights to ACD’s literary estate, and then attempted to sell it notwithstanding the prevailing uncertainty over ownership. American TV producer-director Sheldon Reynolds acquired a licence from two of Arthur’s sons to make a Sherlock Holmes series in the 1950s. When, 20 years later, Reynolds tried to get a licence for a follow-up series on TV, he found that the legal landscape had changed. The rights were now held by the Royal Bank of Scotland who had acquired them after the previous owner defaulted on a loan. Eventually, with funds provided by his Pfizer heiress mother-in-law, Reynolds secured the rights to the Holmes stories.
Andréa Plunket (Source: goodreads.com)
Culture of litigation
Since 1990 the main battle for control of the copyrights has pitted Reynolds’s ex-wife, Hungarian-born heiress Andréa Milos (née Reynolds, née Plunket) versus the Conan Doyle Estate and others. Plunket has doggedly claimed to hold the rights to the name “Sherlock Holmes” and the stories, despite a lack of legal support for the claims. Lawsuits were exchanged between her andthe Estate. Plunket also threatened tosue the BBC over its Sherlock television series for allegedly infringing ‘her’ trademarks (‘The Scandalous Sherlock Holmes Copyright Issue’, Mattias Boström, I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere, 30-Jul-2015, www.ihearofsherlock.com).
The Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Estate for its part has been particularly litigious in defence of its literary legacy. The Estate has consistently striven to maintain water-tight control over both the Sherlock Holmes stories and the characters. In 2013 it demanded author Leslie S Klinger pay a fee to license the Sherlock character for an anthology he was planning to do. Klinger’s response was to sue the Estate on the basis that most of the Sherlock material was in the public domain. In court the judge upheld Klinger’s position, while reaffirming that some late works were still covered under copyright (‘Sherlock Holmes Copyright: An overview’, Brogan Woodburn,www.redpoints.com). In 2020 it sued Netflix over its upcoming film Enola Holmes. The grounds? The film apparently depicts Holmes as having emotions and respecting women. This, the Estate contends, breaches Conan Doyle’s copyright (‘Lawsuit over ‘warmer’ Sherlock depicted in Enola Holmes dismissed’, Alison Flood, The Guardian, 22-Dec-2020, www.theguardian.com).
‘The Red-Headed League’ story (Golden Press edition, 1963)
⌖
End-note: An additional complication over the Holmes copyright issue is a demarcation between the UK and US laws. In the UK copyright lasts for 70 years after an author’s death (in Conan Doyle’s case, the copyright expired in 2000). Conversely in the USA some copyrights extend for 95 years from the date of the work’s first publication⍟. This has proved a stumbling block for TV series and film-makers trying to adapt one of the Sherlock stories in recent years (‘Sherlock Holmes And His “Copyrighted Emotions”‘, Copyright House, 28-Sep-2020, www.copyrighthouse.org).
…………………………………………..
✱ including works for film, music, radio, stage, video games, there are over 25,000 products that are related to the famous detective (Woodburn)
⍟ the last of ACD’s published work expires in 2023
The story of Robin Hood is one of those enduring English chronicles from the distant past, which like the Arthurian legend has continually provided rich fodder for the screen. The basic story is an all-too familiar one with universal appeal: a virtuous Saxon nobleman in Mediaeval England, fleeced out of his estate and title by powerful villains, responds by mobilising an heroic and effective resistance against the status quo, on the way freeing the poor and oppressed peasantry from their yokes. That the legend is known throughout the Anglophone world and Europe, is testimony to the fact has there been so many film and television goes at retelling the legend – starting with the first silent one in 1908.
It wasn’t until the 1922 silent version with Robin Hood played by the lead Hollywood actor of the day Douglas Fairbanks Sr that the Robin Hood movie achieved serious cinematic recognition. Fairbanks’ athletic prowess and spectacular stunts elevated the movie and captured the imagination of audiences. With a budget of nearly one million dollars (one of the biggest in the silent era) the 1922 Robin Hood helped to establish the ‘swashbuckler’ sub-genre in cinema.
The next version of note, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) is considered by many to be the best movie on the iconic Saxon hero. Errol Flynn in the title role brings the energy and verve to the film that largely accounts for The Adventures of Robin Hood’s standing as one of the great swashbucklers of Hollywood. As one critic observed: “Flynn’s Robert of Locksley, dripping with sexuality, good humor, panache and swagger, captures not only the derring-do character, but also the more dramatic side of his fight for injustice” (Susan King, ‘Classic Hollywood: 100 Years of Robin Hood movies’, LA Times, 12-May-2010). The use of (Technicolor) colour, still not widely used at that time, added to the film’s freshness and appeal.
R Todd in the Lincoln Green
For most Flynn’s performance and the 1938 classic has remained the benchmark. Of the numerous subsequent RH iterations, none have really stacked up against The Adventures of Robin Hood but some of the efforts do warrant a degree of favourable mention. The modest 1952 low-profile Disney flick, The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men is a sleeper of a movie compared to the blockbusters above, but it proved popular in the US (good performance by Irish actor Richard Todd in the lead) and was in the main well received by the press: “an expert rendition of an ancient legend”; “as lively as a sturdy Western” (New York Times); a “zesty, colorfully retelling of the familiar story” (Leonard Maltin); and for its authentic English locations.
One of two 1991 feature film versions of Robin Hood was the much hyped Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves which did well at the box office but was not critical well received. Kevin Costner was lambasted for his less than credible impersonation of an English noble as was the screenplay, though Alan Rickman won plaudits for his deliciously hammy Sheriff of Nottingham — “wicked, droll, sly, eye-rolling, witty one-liners and put-downs” (Roger Ebert). The second film entitled simply Robin Hood, starring another Irish thespian Patrick Bergin, tries for more modern touches. The movie tones down the traditional “rob from the rich, give to the poor”, socialist-leaning revolutionary Robin, opting for a more out and out impudent anti-authoritarian (Tom Jicha, SunSentinel, 13-May-1991). Another innovation is the replacement of Hood’s traditional nemeses, the Sheriff of Nottingham and Sir Guy of Gisborne, with two new baddies, Sir Miles Folcanet and Baron Deguerre. The Maid Marian role in RH adaptions are usually passive objects of attention, but this film has Uma Thurman attempting to redress this by actively participating in the climactic sword fight, (one critic was dismissive of this as “a contrived nod to present-day feminism”, Tom Shales, The Washington Post, 13-May-1991).
Crowe’s band
Two more recent iterations of RH have sought to give the story a modern twist. Both Ridley Scott’s revisionist 2010 Robin Hood and the 2018 version analogised the time-honoured legend with the post-9/11 West’s preoccupation with the war on terror. The critical consensus was that Ridley Scott’s version was dour and joyless with the essential adventure ingredient of the tale drained out. Russell Crowe playing Hood as a hardened war veteran was singled out for specific criticism by some – too old to play the role, his accent sounded more Irish or even Scottish than Nottinghamshire, etc. The 2018 Robin Hood depicts the Merry Men, clothed in half-modern costumes, as if they are SAS commandos entwined in a Middle East-type scenario picking off terrorists with automatic weapons (’14 Big Scren Robin Hoods’: Ranked’, (Mary Sollosi), 14-Jun-2019, EW.com).
The 1950s was the first decade that television really impacted on the public and popular culture in advanced Western countries…for countless viewers in Britain, Canada, the US, Australia and New Zealand, this meant a new opportunity to indulge in the perennial classic adventure story of the Lincoln-green set. In those pioneering days in the new medium Associated Television’s Adventures of Robin Hood (1955-59) was compulsory viewing in grainy black and white. Richard Greene was a reassuringly efficient “righter of wrongs” and appropriately English in pedigree. His presence as Hood aided by interesting stories and an enticingly catchy theme song, saw the production through 143 episodes. The success of the Greene “Robin Hood” inspired a new wave of TV series on the Nottinghamshire archer extraordinaire from the Seventies on🅐. The pick of these is probably the 1984 series Robin of Sherwood which had the novelty of two different incarnations of Robin Hood. The ITV series was widely praised as a “gritty, authentic production design with real-life history, 20th century fiction and pagan myth” (‘Robin Hood’, Wikipedia). World expert on Robin Hood literature Stephen Knight described it as “the most innovative and influential version of the myth in recent times”. A haunting soundtrack by Clannad helped the “moody and atmospheric” vibe of Robin of Sherwood. Personally, I’m a bit partial to a more recent Robin Hood series (2006-09), largely for Keith Allen’s high camp, deeply sarcastic performance, replete with a range of exaggerated often incredulous facial gestures as the Sheriff of Nottingham (one episode spoofs the Bob Marley song in its title, “Who Shot the Sheriff?”).
So deeply embedded in film and popular culture is the Robin Hood story that inevitably someone would lampoon it and that somebody was Mel Brooks in his 1993 parody Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Brooks makes fun of other (serious) iterations of RH like Costner’s Prince of Thieves. In fact Brooks has already roamed into this territory in television in 1975 with his sitcom on Hood and co, When Things Were Rotten. Both were replete with one-liners, sight gags, literal humour and anachronisms (something the non-humorous versions were also very prone to).
One of the funniest alternative iterations of Robin Hood came out of late Eighties children’s television. Creator Tony Robinson‘s Maid Marian and her Merry Men as the title suggests inverts the roles of the legend…Marian is the de facto leader and the brains of the Sherwood Forest outlaws, while Robin, an incompetent ex-tailor (“Robin of Kensington”) is a complete airhead. Another comic inversion of the traditional legend seen here and in Men in Tights is the presentation of Robin as being far from heroic.
Marian’s outfit
Footnote: One of the quintessential personal traits of Robin Hood is his prowess as a master archer which features in all RH screen versions. Given the character’s mythic status this prowess is typically grossly exaggerated – Russell Crowe manages to hit a fleeing soldier on horseback hundreds of yards away with an arrow flush on the back of his head; Taron Egerton in the 2018 film shoots nearly 20 arrows in the trailer alone! (Max Tenenbaum, ‘The 10 Best Archers From Film and TV’ Screen Rant, 07-Apr-2020).
Postscript: Political HoodThe Adventures of Robin Hood TV series was clearly intended as good fun, a vehicle of commercial escapist entertainment, nonetheless buried in the storyline are snatches of political commentary on contemporary events in the UK during the strait-jacketed postwar decade after 1945. An analogy can be made between Robin’s return from serving in the Crusades to find his property and titles confiscated, and the shabby treatment of British veterans returning from the WWII conflagration. The Adventures‘ political messages were not confined to contemporary Britain. The TV program was the brainchild of a blacklisted US producer Hannah Weinstein. Weinstein hired leftist American writers such as Ring Lardner Jr similarly persecuted by the McCarthyism scourge in the US. Lardner and the others were not slow to draw comparisons between the fictional Robin Hood’s plight and their own ongoing victimisation by the zealous American Right. According to Lardner, writing for the show afforded “plenty of opportunities for oblique social comment on (the assault on liberties in) Eisenhower-era America” (Allen W.Wright, ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood 1950s TV Series Page 2’, (Sept 2005), Robin Hood: Bold Outlaw of Barnsdale and Sherwood, Spotlight, www.boldoutlaw.com).
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────
🅐 not to mention the similarly themed 1958 TV series William Tell which might be summed up succinctly as “Robin Hood with a crossbow”
For scholar and layperson alike, the dawn of story-telling in the West if not the earliest literary text, coincides with Homer and his two epic poems the Iliad and the Odyssey. Dating very roughly from somewhere around 700 BCE, Homer (traditionally thought to be a blind Ionian poet – see PostScript) composed his two (very) long poems in hexameter form to be read aloud at festivals and such public events. The Homeric epics were spread throughout the Greek world and beyond by professional reciters of poetry called rhapsodes (sort of travelling bards) [Beaty Rubens & Oliver Taplin, An Odyssey Round Odysseus: The Man and His Story Traced Through Time and Place, (1989)].
Homer’s works are generally considered the foundation point of what is commonly referred to as the Western canon※, though the Iliad and the Odyssey are predated by other foundation texts emanating from the earlier Sumerian civilisation, particularly the Epic of Gilgamesh (ca 2,100 BCE), comprising poems and tales, the first known work of fiction [‘What is the oldest known piece of literature?’, (Evan Andrews), History, 22-Aug-2018, www.history.com].
The second of the epic poems, the Odyssey, deals with the perilous and action-packed 10-year journey of its eponymous hero Odysseus back to his home in Ithaca after the Trojan War (the Iliad). In 2018 a poll by the BBC of over 100 international authors, academics, journalists and critics chose the Odyssey as the most influential work in Western literature. Some of the reasons given for making the Odysseyprimus inter pares in such a vast array of august literary texts include: it is “one of the great foundation myths of Western culture…asking what it means to be a hero”; it is “properly epic”; it has “great female characters”; it “forces us to question the assumptions we might have about quests, war, and what it means to return home” (repatriation); it endorses a “streak of individualism”, etc [Homer’s Odyssey is Officially the World’s Most Influential Story’, (Tasso Kokkinidis), Greece. Greek Reporter,(2018), www.greece.greekreporter.com✪.
That the Odyssey has been massively influential in the arts ever since it first emerged in the rocky hillsides of Ionian Greece is indisputable. Other ancient Greek playwrights and poets who followed Homer, like Sophocles, produced their own versions of the iconic tale (and their own take on the elusive character of Odysseus). It has been suggested that the character of Jesus in the Gospel of Markspan class=”s2″ style=”font-size: 19.73px”> draws from Odysseus and his adventures, eg, the “feeding of the 500”, Jesus was a carpenter like Odysseus, who was the builder of the “Wooden Horse” [‘The Odyssey : An Overview, No Sweat Shakespeare, www.nosweatshakespeare.com].
It’s widely known that Shakespeare borrowed freely from many sources – plots, devices and imagery from the Bible, Plutarch, Seneca, Chaucer, from Holinshed’s Chronicles, from Boccaccio’s Decameron, etc. [‘Shakespeare’s Source Material’, (J.M. Pressley), Shakespeare’s Resource Center,www.bardnet.net/]. Like any educated Tudor man of the day Shakespeare voraciously absorbed the classics and Homeric influences are discernible in his plays – Odyssean themes like the phenomena of homecoming (Shakespeare’s Romances); the recognition theme from Odysseus’ reappearance in disguise in Ithaca (King Lear); the renewal theme (The Winter’s Tale) (No Sweat Shakespeare)⦿.
The Odysseus-Hamlet connexion
The Odyssey’s imprint on Shakespeare is most noticeable in the Bard’s most famous tragedy Hamlet. Several patterns emerge. Both literary opuses share a preoccupation with a troubled father-son relationship (Odysseus/Telemachus, King Hamlet/Prince Hamlet). Moreover, the Odyssey and Hamlet possess striking thematic similarities. Prince Hamlet and King Odysseus both employ deception to their advantage—the former dissembling madness and the latter physical disguises—to exact retribution against those who have wronged them. Both protagonists reveal a fatal flaw (hamartia)⊞ in the course of their trials and tribulations [‘Hamlet v. Odyssey’, (William Sheng), 12-Apr-2012, http://docs.google.com/].
The influence of the Odyssey on various media has been recurring and pervasive, including on novels (Don Quixote: Quixote, like Odysseus, embarks on a ‘epic’ journey and inflates (or distorts) his tales of heroism and survival) or The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood’s feminist remaking of the myth as told from the point of view of Penelope, Odysseus’ long-suffering wife); on television animation (The Simpsons “Tales from the Public Domain” episode – a satirical travesty of the Odyssey, Homer (Simpson) as Odysseus on a decidedly unheroic journey [‘8 Novels Inspired by the Odyssey’, (Jessica Ferri), Early Bird Books,www.earlybirdbooks.com ; Economou Green, Mary. “The Odyssey and Its Odyssey in Contemporary Texts: Re-visions in Star Trek, The Time Traveler’s Wife,and The Penelopiad.” Dialogue: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Popular Culture and Pedagogy. 1.1 (2014). Web.]; in poetry (Tennyson’s Ulysses (the Latinised form of ‘Odysseus’) is a kind of pessimistic postscript to the Odyssey with the aged hero unhappily stuck in his island kingdom lamenting the loss of his life of travel and adventure).
Odysseus by the River Liffey
Easily the most famous literary reinterpretation of the Odyssey is James Joyce’s “stream of consciousness✠ novel Ulysses, a work which tore up the handbook for writing novels in the modern age. T S Eliot summarised the revolutionaryimpact of Ulysses’thus: “(Joyce) has made the novel obsolete by replacing the narrative method with the mythical method” [quoted in ‘James Joyce’s Ulysses: Remixing the Homeric Myth’, (James AW Heffernan), The Great Courses Daily, 02-Apr-2017,www.thegreatcoursesdaily.com].Joyce adapts the framework of Homer’s classic to1904 Dublin, condensing the original’s 10-year journey into a single day, in which the protagonist, the “mock-heroic” and cod-ordinary Leopold Bloom, wanders around his various haunts in the city. In every chapter of Ulysses Joyce matches or parallels the actions of his characters with that of the Odyssey but presents them as banal and mundane. The scene in Homer where a lovely princess Nausikaa assists the shipwrecked Odysseus on the island of Scheria is reworked by Joyce to show the married cuckold Bloom as voyeur, spying on an attractive girl at Sandymount Strand while relieving his frustrations by masturbating [David Norris & Carl Flint, Joyce For Beginners, (1994)].
Science-Fictiondepictions on the screen, big and small, have mined an abundant seam of inspiration from the Odyssey. Kubrick’s and Arthur C Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey repositions the story in the Solar System with a supercomputer named HAL-9000 filling the role of the Cyclops imperilling the life of Odysseus/Dave Bowman. Another cult classic that owes inestimably to Homer’s Odyssey is the long-running Star TrekTV series. The Odyssey parallels are more than translucent – Star Trek is replete with alien locations and weird and unworldly characters. Captain Kirk is “an intelligent, strong and charismatic leader, struggling to keep his crew together as they sail through the depths of space” [‘Greek Myth and Science Fiction’, www.greekmythandscifi.wordpress.com]. Kirk & Co leave the known world (Earth) to journey into the unknown (the Galaxy)❂, they “go beyond”, they problem-solve, they vanish aliens and monsters and “re-emerge into the world victorious in quest purpose and with knowledge to better the plight of humankind” (Economou Green).
Odysseus as anti-hero precursor?
Odysseus exhibits qualities that make him seem to our eyes very modern (or even post-modern). He heroically and valiantly combats the monstrous creatures which block his path, but there is another, deeply problematic side to his personality. Odysseus, the personification of guile and cunning (polumetis in the Greek), routinely acts in both the Iliad and the Odyssey without honour or noble intention – a trickster, a dissembler and “con man”, a cheat, a liar, Among his many misdeeds, he sleeps with Circe; he murders innocent maids; he displays arrogance such as in his encounter with Polyphemus (the Cyclops); he misappropriates the armour of the dead Achilles (causing Ajax to take his own life); he fails to protect his crew on the voyage home resulting in them all perishing. You can discern in the ‘complicated’ and ‘ambiguous’◪ character of Odysseus a model for the ascendency of the anti-hero in modern cinema since the 1960s (Clint Eastwood, Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, etc) [Cook, E. (1999). “Active” and “Passive” Heroics in the “Odyssey”. The Classical World, 93(2), 149-167. doi: 10.2307/4352390].
Footnote: Odyssey, the prototype road movie
Homer’s classic is of course one of if not the principal fount of all subsequent travel/road stories in Western culture. This has proved nowhere more fecund than in modern cinema in films such as Easy Rider, Mad Max and countless others. Other road movies have been even more overt in referencing their debt to Odyssey and Homer – Paris, Texas, where the Odyssean protagonist charts a hazardous course which takes him from ruin and desperation to redemption [‘Wander Forever Between The Wind: A Tribute To PARIS, TEXAS’, (Priscilla Page), Birth, Movies, Death, 23-Sep-2017,www.birthmoviesdeath.com]. The Coen brothers’ O Brother, Where Art Thou is unequivocally transparent in its pilferings from the Odyssey…the movie is variously peopled by a “Ulysses/Everett”, a “Penny”, a figurative “Cyclops”, “Lotus Eaters”, “Trojans/Ku Klux Klan”, a “Cattle of the Sun God”, “Sirens/laundry ladies”, a “Poseidon/county sheriff” and assorted other Homeric entities – all transposed to a 1930s Great Depression, Deep South setting.
PostScript: Authorship issue
Some scholars over the years have sought to debunk the custom of attributing the Iliad and the Odyssey to someone called ‘Homer’, about who there is virtually zero factual information, no biography to recount. Rather than a knowable or identifiable author this view attributes authorship to the whole Hellenic culture, tracing its genesis in fragments created before the supposed dates that ‘Homer’ flourished [‘Author Says a Whole Culture—Not a Single ‘Homer’—Wrote ‘Iliad,’ ‘Odyssey’’, (Simon Worrall), National Geographic, 03-Jan-2015, www.nationalgeographic.com].
ღდღდღ
＊＊ the books, films, etc referred to above are only a selection of the total works—literary, the arts, music, cinema—informed and influenced by the Odyssey
𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪𝄪
※ ‘classic’ works of literature, philosophy, music and art elevated into a band of select ‘membership’ in the firmament of high culture
✪ the claim of ‘official’ recognition should be tempered by the fact that if a different set of experts were asked, they might not necessarily agree with the choice
⊞ in Hamlet it is prevarication and indecision, failing to act when he should, in Odysseus it is hubris, by which Odysseus offends Poseidon with “god-like” arrogance
⦿ Shakespeare’s borrowings from the Iliad are more overt in Troilus and Cressida, he is indebted to Homer’s tale of Troy for the storyline and the entire Dramatis personae
✠ a method of narration in a literary work that describes happenings in the flow of thoughts in the minds of the characters[www.literarydevices.net/]
Anyone following contemporary US politics would likely be familiar with the term ‘filibuster’ – the spectacle conjured up is of a politician, bunkering down, holding the Senate floor to ransom in an endless monologue. The object of such stonewalling is to perversely delay the passage of some piece or other of legislation they are opposed to. Many movie fans of the “Golden Age of Hollywood” cinema will recall the idealistic young ‘greenhorn’ senator (played by James Stewart) engaging in an agonising 24-hour, non-stop talking marathon to try to block corrupt legislation being passed…the junior senator droning on about the Constitution and the Bible before dramatically collapsing, exhausted, on a ‘bed’ of protest letters and telegrams (Mr Smith Goes to Washington, 1939).
(Illustration: Diana Morales/MPA)
The right to ‘speechify’: Extraneous and unrelated to the legislative matter at handThe principle on which filibustering is predicated—that any senator should have the right to speak as long as necessary—has seen real-life politicians resort to reading material just as prosaic as the fictional Mr Smith’s tedious ‘talkathon’. Louisiana demagogue Huey Long punctuated recitations of Shakespeare and passages from the Constitution with readings of his favourite recipes – especially fried oysters and pot-likkers. Ted Cruz read Dr Seuss to his daughters while trying to stymie Obamacare. The negativity of filibustering is neatly summarised in Senate historian Donald Ritchie’s definition: a filibuster “is a minority of Senators who prevent the majority from casting a vote, knowing otherwise the majority would prevail” [‘Whatever Happened to the Old-Fashioned Jimmy Stewart-Style Filibuster?’, (Aaron Erlich), www.hnn.us/].
⇩ Huey Long (Source: www.npr.com)
Reining in its excessesThe impediment of senatorial filibustering—legislation delayed is legislation denied—led to attempts to curb its disruptiveness. Under the Wilson presidency, the Senate accepted a rule whereby a filibuster could be ended on the achievement of a two-thirds majority vote. In DC-speak this device is called invoking ‘cloture’. In 1975 the requirement was amended, necessitating only a three-fifths majority vote (ie, 60 votes out of the 100 senators) [‘Filibuster and Cloture’, United States Senate, www.senate.gov].
The device of the political filibuster, though quintessentially American, is equally a feature of legislatures of other Western democracies such as the UK, Australia, France and Canada※…and it’s a practice that goes way back to Ancient Rome and Cato the Younger’s all-day talk fests in the Roman Senate circa 60 BCE [‘The art of the filibuster: How do you talk for 24 hours straight?’, (Jon Kelly),BBC News Magazine, 12-Dec-2012, www.bbcnews.com].
⇧ The filibuster phenomena continues to provide political cartoonists in the US with endless inspiration(Image: www.davegranlund.com)
꧂꧂꧂꧁꧁꧁
The other type of filibuster
The etymology of ’filibuster’ dates from the late 16th century, it is first used in the sphere of Spain’s imperial possessions in the “New World”. The Spanish term filibustero⍟described the activities of freelance buccaneers and pirates who plundered the riches of Spanish America (typified by Sir Francis Drake and his raid on Panama in 1573). ’Filibuster’ re-emerges in 19th century United States to refer to North American adventurers and ‘chancers’ who organised schemes and private militias in an attempt to take over foreign countries and territories in Latin America [May, Robert E. “Young American Males and Filibustering in the Age of Manifest Destiny: The United States Army as a Cultural Mirror”. The Journal of American History, vol. 78, no. 3, 1991, pp.857-886. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2078794. Accessed 10 Oct. 2020].
Pirate gold doubloonsfrom the Americas⇩
(Photo: NY Post)
Burr, godfather of US filibustering
The first tentative steps of US filibustering in the early period of the republic probably starts with Vice-President Aaron Burr in the first decade of the century. After Burr’s political career imploded in 1804 as a result of his killing of former Treasurer secretary Alexander Hamilton in a duel, the disgraced VP is believed to have hatched a plan to invade and seize Spanish territories in the west of the North American continent. The scheme was never implemented, however Burr was subsequently tried for treason but acquitted [‘The Burr Conspiracy’, National Counterintelligence Center, www.fas.org/]◰. Other filibusters followed Burr’s lead…early American adventurers like James Long and Augustus Magee formed expeditions to try to wrest control of Texas from the Spanish colonialists.
Manifest Destiny west and southThe activity really took off after US territorial gains at Mexico’s expense stemming from the 1846-48 war and the discovery of gold in California. In the 1850s filibuster expeditions became a regular occurrence as ambitious US citizens, schemers and “soldiers of fortune”, launched raid and raid mainly on northern Mexico but also Central American lands in an attempt to appropriate territory for themselves or in the name of the US. Venezuelan-born Narcisco López was one of the first, trying unsuccessfully with the assistance of American southerners to capture Cuba from the Spanish on three separate occasions. Most of these filibusters were inspired by (or found legitimacy for their actions) in the emerging credo of Manifest Destiny, the belief that Americans possessed a kind of “quasi-divine Providence” to expand into new territories (be they held by native populations or Mexicans), annex them and thus spread American democracy to them [‘Manifest destiny’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
〥۵〥〥〥〥〥〥〥〥〥〥۵
※ by no means is it confined to Western democracies
⍟filibustero – from the Dutch vrijbuiter, meaning ‘freebooter’, ‘pirate’ or ‘robber’
◰Burr was also largely responsible for the introduction into the Senate of the above form of filibuster, the procrastination ploy
Romanians, especially those from the region of Transylvania, must view Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula with at best mixed feelings. On the one hand, the immense popularity of Stoker’s imaginative work of fiction helped put Transylvania on the international tourist map…on the other hand, its dark and ghoulish tale of chilling evil with its genesis in the mountains and forests of trans-silvae (“the land beyond the forest”), projects a negative and deceptively gloomy picture of the country. The association of one of the greatest heroes in Romanian history and a defender of Christianity, the Medieval ruler Vlad Ţepeş III, with the fictional Dracula, would be displeasing to many patriotic Romanians.
Dracula’s transformation into a classic of the Gothic horror genre captured the imagination of film-makers, inspiring numerous silver-screen interpretations of Dracula – from the silent German feature Nosferatu to countless Western film versions which made actors such as Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee famous – and typecast. The Dracula character’s pervasion of especially American popular culture has seen the trope extend to parody cartoon versions on TV (Duckula), to female teen “vampire-slayers” (Buffy) and even to “blaxploitation” movies asserting the emergence of a self-conscious black culture in the US (eg, Blacula).
Vlad’s signature punishment
In some screen interpretations of the novel, like the 1992 Francis Ford Coppola movie Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the identities of Dracula and Vlad Ţepeş are presented as if they are one and the same person! (see also PostScript). Entirely fanciful of course but Stoker’s character did draw inspiration from the real-life Vlad Ţepeş III (or Vlad Împalatul). Vlad was the voivode✱ of Wallachia in the mid-15th century, infamous for impaling victims such as his own troublesome boyars or foreigners captured in conflicts (Ottomans, Bulgarians, Saxons, Hungarians▣). Such an horrific torture technique earned him the nickname “the Impaler”.
⇩1499 woodcut, Vlad the Impaler
Vlad Ţepeş, voivode and resident of Wallachia, not Transylvania
Stoker did get the name ‘Dracula’ from the Medieval Romanian prince, or at least from his family. Vlad’s father—Wallachian voivode before him—was Vlad II, also known as Vlad Drâcul…Drâcul (or Drâc) was a word for ‘dragon’ in the 15th century※, today in Modern Romanian it means “the devil” – something noted by Stoker in his research for the book as an apt descriptor for his fictional arch-nemesis. There is however a great deal of the character of Count Dracula that Stoker didn’t derive from the circumstance of Vlad Ţepeş. The Impaler had nothing to do with vampires or any supernatural beings and his associations with Transylvania were largely peripheral and tenuous. Vlad was supposedly born within Transylvania in Sighişoara although there are some doubts about this (an alternative view has his birthplace in Wallachia). Bran Castle, a Transylvanian tourist attraction identified with Stoker’s Dracula, has no connection with Vlad at all [Florin Curta, referenced in ‘The Real Dracula: Vlad the Impaler’, (Marc Lallanilla), Live Science, (2017), www.livescience.com].
⇩Bran Castle (Photo: Daniel Mihailescu/AFP/Getty Images)
Constructing the Ur-vampire
Transylvania, being to outsiders, “a mysterious land of vampires and other supernatural things”, handed down a long tradition of folklore and legends, it’s not surprising that Stoker drew on this source for inspire and inform his vampire story. Superstitions and beliefs of Romanian peasants in Stoker’s time fuelled a plentiful supply of tales about vampiri (vampires), vârcolaci (werewolves) and other supernatural monstri. Stoker’s library research would also have acquainted him with the strigol, a Romanian figure of legend—“a reckless spirit that returns to suck the lifeblood from his relatives”—the type of vampirish “undead souls” that would find a place in Stoker’s horror novel [‘The Use of History in Dracula Tourism in Romania’, (Tuomas Hovi), www.folklore.ee].
⇧Whitby, England (Imagecredit: www.visitwhitby.com)
Non-Romanian influences on Dracula
In the Dracula novel the undead Count travels to Britain in search of more victims, journeying to Whitby in Yorkshire. This echoes Stoker’s own earlier visit to Whitby in which the author was reportedly quite taken with the town, its colony of bats circling round the churches, its whole creepy atmosphere, all of which he would have found good material for a Gothic novel [‘How Dracula Came to Whitby’, English Heritage, www.english-heritage.org.uk]. Stoker apparently found more inspiration in Port Erroll (these days, Cruden Bay) in Aberdeenshire – Slains Castle with its “fang-like rocks” is thought to have also inspired the Transylvanian Dracula castle home in the book [‘Slains Castle’, www.visitabdn.com].
Vampires: not the exclusive preserve of Transylvania⦿Bram Stoker was Irish and never visited Romania in his lifetime, prompting some to speculate that the Dracula story may equally have been influenced by the author’s own experiences growing up in Ireland. Stoker would have been exposed to homegrown myths of the supernatural (such as those involving the sidhe, the fairy people of Irish folklore), as well as to the nightmarish ordeal of living through a cholera epidemic [‘How Bram Stoker creates Dracula with the aid of Irish Folklore’, (Leonie O’Hara), Irish Central, 04-Oct-2020, www.irishcentral.com].
PostScript: Vampire tourism
Vampire tourism in Transylvania has not been waylaid by coronavirus, tourist operators in Romania are still offering up a raft of tour packages—with titles like “7-Day Dracula Highlights Tour” and “Fun With Fangs: Vampire Tours in Romania”—to lure the “vampire-curious”. The tours, tend to wallow in all the predictable cliches and stereotypes, milking the prevailing craze for all things vampire, staying in Dracula-themed hotels, etc. Vampire tourism is an intriguing admixture of history, tradition and fiction…taking a leaf from Hollywood some of the tours indulge in considerable conflating of the historic Vlad Ţepeş with the fictional Count Dracula (Hovi).
▣ Prince Vlad’s political fortunes generally hovered in the vacuum between the two regional powerhouses Hungary and the Ottomans, who he fought both with and against at different times
※Drâculeşti is the patronymic – Vlad Ţepeş was also known as Drâculea, “son of the dragon”
☒ descendants of Saxon (German) merchants and craftsmen who migrated to Romania, commencing in the 12th century
⦿ though the tradition is a strong one in the Balkans and Eastern Europe, eg, Greece vrykolakas, Albania shtriga
The James Bond film series, is the world’s most successful and enduring movie franchise, since 1962, 24 completed feature films and with another currently cooling it’s post-production heels in Covid lockdown…a franchise that seemingly has not yet run out of steam. The 007 phenomenon has inspired countless imitations in cinema and television. This has ranged from blatant rip-off imitators trying to capitalise on its impetus in the Sixties (“Matt Helm”, “Our Man Flint”, “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”, etc.) to playing it for laughs parodies (“Get Smart”, “Austin Powers”, “Johnny English”).
(Photo: Britannica)
But where did the original creator of the James Bond novels, Ian Fleming, get his inspiration for the iconic character from? We know that Fleming’s own lived experience and background—as a British naval intelligence officer in WWII—made him an insider in the world of espionage, double deceptions and counter-agents. Obviously when the Caribbean-domiciled Fleming came to put pen to paper and create the fictional James Bond in the early Fifties, he drew on many of the real-life acquaintances he had met in the ‘workplace’❋.
In his lifetime Fleming never said definitively who the principal model for 007 was, but the consensus seems to gravitate towards a Serbian double agent Dušan (‘Duško) Popov, someone Fleming came across in the course of his own intelligence career. A famous scene in Casino Royale (Fleming’s first James Bond novel) further advances the association of the world’s most celebrated fictional spy with Popov. Bond’s besting of a powerful Russian criminal at the baccarat table in Casino Estoril (Portugal) in the book/film mirrors an exchange Fleming observed first-hand when the real-life spy spectacularly called the bluff of a boastful Lithuanian gambler in a baccarat game at the same location.
Popov stumbled into the espionage game after being arrested by the Gestapo. To get out of that pickle Popov agreed to spy for the Abwehr (German intelligence agency). While in England he was recruited by MI6 and turned double agent✫. During the war Popov managed to feed a steady stream of misinformation to the Nazis about the Allies’ movements, strength, etc. Most productive for the Allies was his role in Operation Fortitude – Popov helped to convince German military planners that the D-Day invasion of France would occur in Pas de Calais, not Normandy, the actual landing point. As a consequence of Popov’s disinformation, when Operation Overlord was launched in 1944 there were seven German divisions stuck in Calais and unavailable to the Reichswehr in Normandy [‘My name is Popov, Duran Popov’, (Marta Levai), www.0011info.com].
(Image: Getty)
The Serbian counter-spy also tried in August 1941 to alert the US military as to high-level Nazi and Japanese interest in Pearl Harbor, however the critical information which could have averted the military disaster on 7th December was blocked from reaching its target by CIA director Hoover. Hoover distrusted Popov as a double agent, an attitude not allayed by Popov’s reputation as a womaniser and playboy.
(Source: www.newspapers.com)
After the war Popov’s services were rewarded by the Brits with an OBE, but it wasn’t until 1974 that Popov himself lifted the cover on his war-time espionage activities when he published his autobiography. When asked about comparisons between himself and 007, Popov was dismissive of the hedonistic, jet-setting spy as portrayed on the big screen, remarking that “a spy who drank like Bond would be drunk the first night and dead the second” [‘From the archive: the real James Bond, 1973’, (Observer archive), (Chris Hall), The Guardian, 22-Mar-2020, www.theguardian.com].
_____________________________________________ ❋ and on those Fleming only knew of, such as the legendary master spy Sidney Reilly [‘Novel Man’, (William Cook), New Statesman, 28-Jun-2004]
✫ at one point Popov was also spying for the Yugoslav intelligence service, making him a triple agent
After Wonder Woman’s creator Bill Marston dies in 1947, Robert Kanigher takes over the writing duties, the first of many subsequent writers to take on pop culture’s most famous female superhero. DC Comics wastes little time in ringing the changes with Wonder Woman, both to her physical appearance and to her abilities, disposition and purpose.
There are several reasons for the change. One motive is simply commercial, Wonder Woman like her male superhero counterparts, experiences a fall-off in popularity after the war. Another relates to expectations of gender roles in America. So much of America’s manhood is away during the world war on the front line engaging the enemy. Born of necessity, American women move into the work force, invading traditional male domains of employment as never before. With the war’s end, men return to their jobs relegating thousands of women back to unpaid work in the home. There is a re-solidifying of the traditional gender roles. A casualty of this is Wonder Woman herself. In Marston’s hands she reflects empowerment, ie, freedom from male domination. The feminist overtones she embodies are a challenge as the US attempts to re-establish the status quo ante order [‘The Fitful Evolution of Wonder Woman’s Look’, (Diana Martinez), The Atlantic, 07-Jun-2017, www.theatlantic.com].
Superhero Nazi hunters
Wonder Woman’s superhuman exertions and physicality—as with everyone else in the superhero comic universe—have an aptness during WWII. The superheroes in the comics spearhead the fight against the Nazis, promoting a patriotic agenda and helping to boost morale. When the war is won, this agenda loses its relevance for the American readership [‘Women of Comics: Objectified, Sexualize and Disempowered’, (Nia Aiysha), Wild Black Orchids, 07-May-2016, www.wildblackorchids.wordpress.com].
Making the iconic feminist warrior a bit less super
In wanting to rein in Wonder Woman’s powerful persona DC Comics are responding to prevailing (male) society’s anxieties about women’s independence. By 1950, the toning down is well underway, WW’s crime-fighting exploits are taking second fiddle – in Sensation Comics #97 she is the editor of a newspaper lonely hearts column❋. During the decade WW becomes a reluctant superheroine, love-struck and longing to settle down with her beau Steve Trevor [‘Publication history of Wonder Woman’, Wikipedia,http://en.m.wikipedia.org; Wonder Woman Unbound: The Curious History of the World’s Most Famous Heroine, Tim Hanley (2014)].
Wonder Woman is not just a feminist, she’s also a sexy feminist! Accordingly, there is a lot of scrutiny on her salacious attire as well by the “morally self-appointed” in society. Eventually, the raunchy bathing suit and sexually-confident red boots will be traded in for a more demure look. Psychologist Fredric Wertham’s full-on crusade against the deleterious effects of comics on children in the early 1950s includes WW in its cross-hairs. WW’s sexually provocative bondage fetish (involving herself or other females) leads Wertham to ‘blacklist’ the depicted character as a promoter of lesbianism (which he took as evidence of misandry)(Martinez), pressuring DC Comics to remove Marston’s message of WW as a harbinger of matriarchy (Hanley).
The Amazonian princess returns to ‘civies’ – “Emma Peeled”
In the 1960s other comic book action heroines come forward such as secret agent Modesty Blaise. Reflecting the early rumblings of what would evolve into the second wave feminism of the Seventies, Blaise exhibits Wonder Woman-like “badass fighting capabilities” to triumph in a male world. At this time however WW loses that same original verve✪, getting a Sixties ‘mod’ makeover which transforms her into an Emma Peel clone (from the cult British TV series The Avengers), complete with martial arts moves, jumpsuits and Carnaby Street attire〥 [‘Four-Colour Yesteryears: Wonder Woman – the Emma Peel Years’, (Rob N), Paradox Comics Group, 22-Aug-2009, www.paradoxcomicsgroup.com; Hanley].
1970s, the women’s movement and empowerment
Gloria Steinem and the burgeoning women’s movement comes into the story at this time. Steinem, dismayed at DC Comics’ relegation of Wonder Woman to a “powerless 1950s car hop”, lobbies DC to restore WW’s superheroine stature. Steinem puts WW on the cover of the first edition of Ms. magazine in 1972, tagging it “Wonder Woman for President”. [‘How Gloria Steinem Saved Wonder Woman’, (Yohana Desta), Vanity Fair, 10-Oct-2017, www.vanityfair.com]. WW in Ms. becomes a kind of masthead to promote sisterhood and equality among women (the magazine depicts WW confronting store owners who deny their female employees equal pay and defending abortion clinics against male thugs [‘How A Magazine Cover From The 1970s Helped Wonder Woman Win Over Feminists’, (Katie Kilkenny), Pacific Standard, 21-Jun-2017, www.psmag.com]. Steinem and Ms.’ agitation on behalf of WW forces DC to restore her special powers including the “Lasso of Truth” and re-draw her in her original voluptuous form.
With the critical spotlight turned on DC’s portrayal of Wonder Woman, DC made further concessions to the comic. Diversity was introduced —a nod to the Black Power Movement in the US and perhaps belated recognition of a lack of ethnic diversity in its comics—with the inclusion of Nubia, WW’s African half-sister (Martinez). The perception of Wonder Woman as a feminist icon is given a further boost along by the cult success of the 1975-79 television series. WW, played by Lynda Carter, embodies the qualities of strength, fearlessness, wisdom and determination, restored in the comics post-1972✧.
PostScript: The Wonder Woman comic books over the past 40 years has seen the WW character and image undergo sundry transitions, a procession of “conflicting and seemingly incompatible versions” of WW – alternating between ramped-up raunchiness and less overt sexuality, between a muscular Amazonian physicality and a “heroin chic” fashion model (Martinez).
❋ in other Fifties comics Wonder Woman or her alter ego Diana Prince appears as a model and a film star
〥 WW becomes younger and thinner too. She also gets labelled as a “female James Bond” during this period
✪ DC Comics’s hegemony in the superhero comic popularity stakes in the late Sixties is seriously being challenged by Marvel Comics, a factor in the decision to revamp WW along with the entire ‘stable’ (Rob N)
✧ subsequent interpretations of Wonder Woman on the screen follow, the most recent in 2017 (with a sequel slated for release this year) sees WW reconnect with her Amazonian roots
When testosterone-charged visitors to coastal Belgian towns began strolling around the shops and cafes bare-chested in 2015, locals objecting to this aesthetic blight on the landscape took to labelling the offending blow-ins “Tarzan tourists”. References to that archetypical, mesomorphic white hero of amorphous jungle habitats, Tarzan, have permeated popular culture for over a century. Since the time pencil-sharpener salesman Edgar Rice Burroughs (ERB) turned his hand to writing his first story in 1912, the aura of Tarzan, carefully cultivated by the author into a cultural icon, has extended from pulp fiction, to various media including comic strips, films (over 90!), radio shows, TV series, Broadway musicals, computer games and a raft of commercial merchandise𝓪.
Celluloid Tarzan – from urbane gent to LCD savage
The phenomenal success of ERB’sTarzan of the Apes and follow-up pulp novels provided prime adventure material for a rapid transition into cinema, starting with a silent movie in 1918. Later sound film interpretations, especially those with former American Olympic swimming champion Johnny Weissmuller as Tarzan, departed radically from Burroughs’ original conception of the heroic jungle adventurer as a cultured, multilingual, erudite aristocrat (John Clayton II, Viscount Greystoke). Weissmuller’s “dumbed-down” depiction of Tarzan was as an innocent and noble savage, the “strong and silent” type given only to monosyllabic utterings (“Me, Tarzan, you, Jane”).
⇩ERB at home in Tarzana, California
White skin, white supremacist
As successful as the books and later franchises have been, Tarzan’s character has engendered a persistent stream of controversy. ERB’s creation, from the start, was an obvious target for accusations of racism – a white boy/man𝓫 thrown into a dangerous and alien environment (the “dark continent”), who manages not only to survive but to triumph over hordes of dark-skinned peoples and over numerous wild animals. Tarzan emerges from the pages as a “consummate colonial-era adventurer” – “a white man whose novel civility enabled him to communicate with and control savage peoples and animals…using appropriate technology” to help natives who “cannot solve their own problems” [RJ Gordon in Tarzan was an Eco-Tourist … and Other Tales in the Anthropology of Adventure, (edited by Luis A Vivanco & Robert J Gordon), 2006]. The world that Tarzan creates in the jungle is in effect a “white supremacist Eden parable”, the books and films completely omit the point-of-view of the indigenous people who live in the African jungle (or the Amazonian rainforest𝓬) ‘[‘The Only Good Tarzan is a Bad Tarzan’, (Aaron Bady), Pacific Standard, 08-Jul-2016, www.psmag.com; ‘From Tarzan to Avatar: the problem with “the white man in the jungle”’, (Steve Rose), The Guardian, 06-Jul-2016, www.theguardian.com].
⇧TV Tarzan (loin-clothed Ron Ely) translocated to Mesoamerican climes (Source: www.nbc.com)
A white world of comfortable racial assumptions Tarzan’s brand of chivalrous “white masculinity” precludes him from engaging in sexual violence against women, but he is utterly implicated in the negative racial stereotyping of Africans, an explicit feature of the books – black men aredescribed as “lithe, ebon warriors, gesticulating and jabbering”, Arabs are “surly looking”. Without holding back, ERB tells us, Tarzan is “a killer of many black men”, revelling, shockingly for modern sensitivities, in the act of ‘lynching’ blacks [Gail Bederman, quoted in ‘Tarzan’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
The mystique of Tarzan: Green mascot, eco-warrior and proto-expat
Part of Tarzan’s durability as a cultural icon might lie in his versatile utility. It has been noted that Tarzan possesses an “ability to adapt to the zeitgeist of different eras”. In seamlessly managing an environment that is unnatural and unfamiliar to him, he demonstrates a flair for “ecological sustainability”, we are shown the ape-man’s apparently impeccable “green credentials” [‘The Untamed Image of the Perfect Savage’, (Bram Wicherink), Efnofoor, vol. 22, no. 2, 2010, pp.90-97. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/25758188. Accessed 10 July 2020]. For Paul Theroux, who hadhands-on experience of being part of the ‘invasion’ of Africa by Peace Corps Volunteers in the 1960s, Tarzan is “in the jungle, but notof the jungle”…therefore he was the “first expatriate”𝒹[Theroux, P.“Tarzan Is an Expatriate.” Transition, no. 32, 1967, pp. 13–19. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2934617. Accessed 10 July 2020].
⇩The first screen Tarzan, Elmo Lincoln, 1918
Tarzan as metaphor – defender of masculinity
The period in which ERB wrote the first Tarzan books (just before, through and after WWI) saw the emergence of a challenge to the hegemony of white masculinity – from the Suffragette Movement…according to Robert Gordon, Burroughs’ creation of the all-conquering jungle superhero constituted a buffer against that perceived threat. This held sway again in the 1960s and 70s when the advent of women’s, LGBT and civil rights movements loomed as a threat to (white heterosexual) masculinity. Tarzan, as “the archetypal white-manhood fantasy” represented a “refuge of sorts for white audiences”. What they could observe in the story of Tarzan was an ideal of manliness, a he-man proving himself physically in the most testing of circumstances [Gordon; ‘Me, Tarzan. You, Really Still Doing This?’, (Devon Maloney), Mel, 11-Jul-2016, www.melmagazine.com.
PostScript: An attempt at a politically-corrected Tarzan
The talkies motion picture era has seen a string of mostly forgettable actors taking on the role of Tarzan, as well as a TV series or two and even Disney animation versions of the vine-swinging king of the jungle. In recent decades the Tarzan phenomenon has appeared to be running out of steam, although a recent entry, a 2016 screen production, The Legend of Tarzan, sought to present a Tarzan with ‘woke’ politics and more psychological complexity. Tarzan is this time avowedly anti-colonial, taking to task the odious slave-based Congo empire of Belgian king Leopold II, and displaying his capacity for “racial sensibilities” in the endeavour. Resurrecting a Tarzan who is more nuanced is still in itself problematic for its contemporary tone-deafness – “propagating…a white saviour narrative during the charged era of Black Lives Matter” is not the most prudent or politically savvy card to play [Glenn Kenny, ‘The Legend of Tarzan’, (01-Jul-2016), www.rogerebert.com]. The hero’s mate Jane departs from her character’s standard “eye-candy” function and exhibits a “feisty proto-feminist” defiance and the film gives a nod to environmental and conservationist concerns. Unfortunately the movie got at best only mixed reviews and basically bombed at the box office [‘The Legend of Tarzan’ Falls Well Short of the Tree Tops’,(David Edelstein), Vulture, 01-Jul-2016, www.vulture.com].
Footnote: Tarzan, very much “all-American”
Oddly, in all the graphic representations of Tarzan—in films, on book covers and illustrations—he is presented as clean-shaven, always sans beard, somewhat of an anomaly considering he is almost always off the grid, cut off from all the usual paraphernalia and comforts of life.
⇧Just your average Middle American family – the Weissmullers
𝓪 Tarzan was “the first fictional character to be multi-mass-media marketed…the growth of a veritable Tarzan industry, with “Tarzan Clubs” rivalling the Boy Scouts (Gordon). But not just boys, famed ethnologist and world chimpanzee authority Jane Goodall was captivated by the mystique of Tarzan, his impact on the primatologist’s childhood imagination “set her on a path to Africa to work with wild animals” [‘How Tarzan created Jane Goodall and how Goodall then repaid the favour’, (Shawn Thompson), The Ethical Ape, (2013), www.news.mongabay.com]
𝓫 in the books Burroughs explains that the name given the eponymous hero, ‘Tarzan’, means (in African “ape language”) “white of skin”
𝓬 occasionally for plot variety the setting for Tarzan’s adventures diverts from the customary (vaguely) African location to Latin America and India
𝒹 apparently he was the inspiration for future adventure junkies – for many restless souls in the West who flocked to join the Peace Corps in an Africa emerging from colonialism, as well as for later devotees of the ongoing craze for adventure tourism (Gordon)
The literary character Charlie Chan, created by Earl Derr Biggers, is best remembered in numerous cinema representations from the 1930s and 1940s. While the obsequious but sagacious Chinese-American detective became one of the enduringly nostalgic fictional figures of US popular culture, his creator in fact based him on a real life-and-blood Hawaiian-Chinese policeman – Chang Apana (his name is Hawaiianised but he was born “Chang Ah Pang” of Chinese migrant parents).
⍐ Downtown Honolulu, circa 1935
(Source: www.reditt.com)
Over the first three decades of the 20th century, the diminutive and slightly-built Chang Apana, a paniola(Hawaiian cowboy) before entering the Honolulu police service, patrolled the dingy and dangerous Chinatown district of Honolulu armed only with a 1.5m-long bullwhip. Chang’s detective escapades were legendary, involving – audacious, single-handed arrests of members of gambling dins, mastery over disguises in working undercover and shrewd and meticulous powers of sleuthing on murder cases (a cornucopia of material for Biggers to drawn on). Biggers’s own account of Charlie Chan’s genesis, is that he happened upon the existence of the “real Charlie Chan” after reading about Chang’s exploits in a Honolulu newspaper one day in the New York Public LibraryA.
⍐ ‘The House Without a Key’ (1925): the first Charlie Chan novel, although Chan appeared in it only as a minor character
A wellspring of a literary character
The portly Chinese detective with a penchant for “Confucius says”/fortune cookie-style aphorismsB appeared in six crime novels—initially serialised in the influential American magazine Saturday Evening Post—in the 1920s and ‘30’s. Biggers’ premature death in 1933 cut short the Chan literary sequence but not the film adaptations which continued to proliferate with a series of extremely popular Fox mystery filmsC. Charlie Chan‘s first screen appearances were in obscure silent movies with Japanese and Korean actors playing the leads before Walter Oland, a US actor with Swedish-Russian parents, took over and played Chan in 16 pictures. Upon Oland’s death American Sidney Toler assumed the mantle for 22 more CC movies,and lastly, Roland Winters, the son of German and Austrian parents, for a further six films.
⍗ ED Biggers
Life inextricably entwined with artThere were some interesting connexions arising from ED Biggers’ magnum opus…firstly, Chang and Chan’s creator actually met – in 1928. By then, such was the fame of CC, people in Honolulu had started to call the real detective ‘Chan’. The local newspaper recorded their meeting at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel as “AUTHOR MEETS ‘LIVE’ CHINESE DETECTIVE”. Three years later there was the even more improbable meeting of Chan and Chang when 20th Century Fox shot The Black Camel on location in Honolulu. The meeting between sleuth Chang and actor Walter Oland and obligatory photo op occurred during filming…Chang was invited to watch the action and ended up coming every day apparently totally engrossed in the unfolding film [‘Chan, the Man’, (Jill Lepore), The New Yorker, 02-Aug-2010, www.newyorker.com].
⍗Chang and Oland (Chan) meet at Waikiki
The dragon’s embrace of Chan
Charlie Chan’s international cinematic popularity extended, perhaps surprisingly to observers looking at it with the greater cultural sensitivity of the present time, to the Chinese themselves. Walter Oland, at the height of his CC fame, visited Shanghai in 1936 on a promotional tour – to widespread acclaim. Local Chinese newspapers even presented the event in terms that suggested that Biggers’ literary creation was in fact a real person: “Great Chinese Detective Arrives in Shanghai”D. And of course the Chan movies spawned home-grown imitators within China [‘Charlie Chan in China’, The Chinese Mirror: A Journal of Chinese Film History,08-Jul-2011, [http://web.archive.org]. Chinese-born American academic Yunte Huang’s hunch as to why people in China took so whole-heartedly to the clearly faux-Chinese film character is to do with a tradition you see in Chinese operas of performing “the other”. He explains, there’s an acceptance of this “kind of imitation (be it opera or cinema) as part of the artistic culture of China” [‘Investigating The Real Detective Charlie Chan’, NPR, 07-Sept-2010, www.npr.org].
(Source: www.movieposters.ha.com)
🀂🀂🀂Charlie Chan, detective at largeAs the series progressed and the search for plots to accommodate the oriental ace detective widened, Charlie Chan took on a ”globe-trotting” role à la the “Road to“ series. Hence the public were served up increasingly formulaic offerings in a variety of exotic locales – Charlie Chan in Shanghai, Charlie Chan in Egypt, Charlie Chan in Panama, Charlie Chan in Paris, Charlie Chan in Rio, Charlie Chan in Reno, Charlie Chan at Monte Carlo, etc, etc.
Backlash against the honourable Mr Chan in an era of PC sensitivityWhat passed—unchallenged in a ‘whitebread’ society—for innocuous humour in the 1930s and ‘40’s was viewed very differently in the more pluralistic and multicultural milieu of the 1980s and ‘90s and beyond. Many Asian-Americans looking back have found the Charlie Chan depiction objectionable, a Chinese racial stereotype of subservience and pidgin English, a relic of ‘yellowface’ (a kind of “Yellow Uncle Tom”, much akin to the contemporary view of ‘blackface’ minstrel entertainment in the US) [Charlie Chan: The Untold Story of the Honorable Detective and his Rendezvous with American History, Yunte Huang (2010); Lepore].
⍗Chan (Sidney Toler) with #1 son and #2 son
Yunte Huang has sought to redress or balance this jaundiced perception of Charlie Chan, arguing that the fictional Asian-Honolulan super-sleuth is “as American as Jack Kerouac” – “precisely because of (Chan’s) theatrical implausibilities and mixed-up origins”. To Yunte Chan “epitomises (both) the racist heritage and the creative genius of (America’s) culture”, and he notes that while Chan himself is Chinese, “his methods and his milieu are American”, eg, the books and films’ settings are Hawaiian/American mainstream, not set in Chinatown [‘Watching the Detective’, (Pico Iyer), Time, 23-Aug-2010; Yunte].
Assuaging the perception of ‘Orientals’ in AmericaThe dominant literary precedent to Charlie Chan in American (and Western) popular culture of Asians was the figure of Fu Manchu. The creation of English writer Sax Rohrer (Arthur Henry Ward), the Fu Manchu novels (1913-48), exploited the “Yellow Peril” conspiracy image prevalent in the West of an Asian stereotype of evil – Fu was depicted in literature and on-screen as a mad scientist–cum–archvillain hellbent on a mission to rule the world. Yunte points out that Charlie Chan fulfilled a purpose of refuting or challenging the negative Fu Manchu image in the minds of many Americans. In contrast to the iniquitous Fu Manchu wreaking havoc everywhere, Chan is a “man of logic” (as are his fellow detectives extraordinaire Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes), Chan’s personal qualities are that of moral rectitude, observation and logic (Yunte). Biggers himself derided the Fu Manchu portrayal as “sinister and wicked” and “old stuff”, compared to his creation, “an amiable Chinese on the side of the law (which) has never been used (before)” (1931) [‘Creating Charlie Chan’, Popular Culture, 1975].
Other observers concur that the amiable Chinese detective was a departure from the old, more overtly racist stereotypes in US fiction at the time – supplanting the “heathen Chinee” with a more positive image of a Chinese person [‘The Importance of Being Charlie Chan’, (Sandra M Hawley), in Jonathan Goldstein, Jerry Israel & Hilary Conroy (Eds), America Views China: American Images of China Then and Now, (1991)]. Fletcher Chan notes that the books and movies “were a big factor in softening the attitude of white Americans towards Asians”, Charlie Chan as a sort of “goodwill ambassador” [‘Charlie Chan: A Hero of Sorts’, Fletcher Chan, Californian Literary Review, 26-Mar-2007, www.calitreview.com].
Where the Yellow Peril stereotype of Fu Manchu personifies the evil, scheming and immoral Asian in popular culture, the character of Charlie Chan presents—albeit with the retention of some truly cringeworthy ethnic stereotyping—an equal, at least intellectually, to the whites in the world he traverses [Yunte; ‘Charlie Chan’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
⍐Mr Wong: Charlie Chan rip-off with Boris Karloff
Endnote: Hollywood imitators, Moto and WongThe success of Charlie Chan on the big screen led other filmmakers to try their hand at using European actors to portray Asian-American crime fighters, however these were pale imitations of the original and lacking the Chan series’ success and its longevity. Fox’s “Mr Moto” series had Hungarian-American Peter Lorre as a Japanese secret service agent with a Viennese accent. Monogram Pictures, a low-budget specialist, also tried to emulate the success of Chan with its copy/interpretation of a Chinese-American detective Mr Wong, with British horror specialist Boris Karloff in the title role. The last in the series of Mr Wong flicks, Phantom of Chinatown, was a first…in place of Karloff, Chinese-born Keye Luke (previously Charlie Chan’s “Number One Son”) featured in the role of Wong, avoiding the then standard ‘Yellowface’ casting for Asian-American roles.
༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻
A Biggers’ story of reading about a slick piece of detective work by Sergeant Chang Apana and another Hawaiian-Chinese detective Lee Fook has been extensively investigated by Yunte Huang who could not confirm the said article appearing in the Honolulu media of the day. An alternative explanation is that Biggers discovered the local police celebrity on a holiday he took to Hawaii in 1919 or 1920
Beg., “Tongue often hang man quicker than rope”; “Mind like parachute – only function when open”; “Front seldom tell truth. To know occupants of house, always look in backyard”; “Truth is like football – must receive many kicks before reaching goal”; ad nauseam. This idiom or element of Chan’s persona is known today as a ‘flanderisation’ – where a single (often minor) trait or action of a character is increasingly exaggerated or accentuated until it becomes the character’s defining characteristic [www.allthetropes.fandom.com]C as well as a regular stream of radio shows, comics and television series
D mind you, contestants on a 1980s US quiz show asked to name some historical or contemporary Chinese persons came up with “Charlie Chan” as their fifth response (‘The Chinese Mirror’)
Tangier is a coastal city in northern Morocco that looks out across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tarifa, Spain, a distance of just 20 miles, hence its sobriquet, “the Door to Africa”. Strategically located at the cusp of Africa and Europe, Tangier has a long history of interactions with foreign cultures and civilisations – having been occupied at different periods by Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans❈, Vandals, Arabs, Moors and Berbers (Islamic and pre-Islamic), Byzantine Greeks, Spanish, Portuguese and English.
Tangier in the scramble for Africa
By the beginning of the 20th century, during the “Scramble for Africa”, the territory of Morocco (which Tangier falls within) was divided up between Spain and France (and held as “protectorates”). The clandestine deal between the two prompted objections from Germany demanding a “slice of the (African) cake”. A provocative response by impetuous and volatile emperor Wilhelm II in Tangier precipitated an international crisis in 1905. Tensions were dampened down by the ensuing Act of Algeciras: Germany was appeased with a portion of the French Congo, but at the same time Britain and France consolidated their alliance.
Tangier’s special status
Under an agreement (the Tangier Convention) signed by France, Spain and the UK in 1923, Tangier became an International Zone (TIZ), effective from 1924. The tripartite administration of TIZ was later extended to include the US, Belgium, Portugal, Netherland, Sweden and Italy. Forms of everyday official life in the enclave reflected its new internationalised nature, although limited to a very select band of foreign countries. As CG Fenwick described it at the time, TIZ was ”a condominium of select states, a limited board of trustees acknowledging no political responsibility to the nations of the world at large“ (Fenwick, C. G. “The International Status of Tangier.” The American Journal of International Law, vol. 23, no. 1, 1929, pp. 140–143. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2190247. Accessed 14 Apr. 2020).
The judiciary adopted a mixed court comprising two English judges and one each from France and Spain, and the type of law adhered to, analogous to French law (Brown, R. Weir “International Procedure under the Tangier Convention.” Journal of Comparative Legislation and International Law, vol. 7, no. 1, 1925, pp. 86–90. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/753030. Accessed 14 Apr. 2020).
🔺 Tangier, 1924
(Photo: www.pinterest.com)
TIZ was neutral and demilitarised, retaining for zonal security a small force comprising 250 native Moroccan gendarmes under the command of a Spanish major assisted by other subordinate officers from the vested-interest countries. If needed, there was a provision to call on the sultan of Morocco to bolster security strength (Delore, Gabriel. “The Violation by Spain of the Statute of Tangier and Its Consequences as They Affect the United States.” The American Journal of International Law, vol. 35, no. 1, 1941, pp. 140–145. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2192608. Accessed 14 Apr. 2020).
The various international diplomatic corps in Morocco were consolidated in the city of Tangier (apparently the sultan preferred that they be accommodated there rather than Fez, Morocco’s principal city), together with other municipal services, further reflecting the special character of TIZ (Brown).
Political authority in TIZ
The Zone’s political structure (from 1928) had as its basic unit of governance a Legislative Assembly (membership: 4 from France, 3 each from Spain, GB and Italy, 1 each from the Netherlands, Belgium, Portugal and the US). Real power however lay with the Committee of Control – with consuls representing Belgium, France, GB, Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal and Spain. The Committee had the power to veto the Legislative Council and to dissolve it. At a grass-roots level there was an administrator in charge. Under the TIZ Statute the authority of the sultan, acting through a mandūb (proxy), was recognised (though the sultan’s sovereignty over TIZ was nominal) (Graham H Stuart, (1945). The Future of Tangier. Foreign Affairs, 23(4), 675-679, www.foreignaffairs.com)◘.
Tangier International Zone
Area: 373 km. Pop Est.(ca 1936) approx 50,000 (Muslims 30,000, Jews 12,000, Europeans 8,000-something).
Currency: £ pounds sterling
Casablanca or Tangier?
By this time Tangier had acquired a reputation for cosmopolitanism and diversity, being a destination for international businessmen, black marketeers, smugglers, diplomats, military men, refugees, writers and spies. It is widely thought that the classic war espionage film Casablanca (1942) was “inspired by the international ambience of Tangier” (Rachid Tafersiti, L’image de la Ville entire Cinema et Urbanisme, quoted in “The bar at Cinema Vox in Tangier”, Cinema Vox, www.cinemavox.ma)◍. More transparently, Tangier was the subject (or the mood-creating backdrop) for a spate of American mystery/thriller B-movies in the Forties and Fifties with titles like Tangier (reviewed by Variety, 1946: as “spy melodrama with plenty of hokum”) and The Woman from Tangier.
Franco’s takeover
In 1940, with France totally blindsided by the immediate, existential threat to Paris from the German Wehrmacht, General Franco, using the pretext that he was protecting Tangier from a possible Italian invasion launched a surprise invasion of Tangier (‘Spanish protectorate in Morocco’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org). With Spain in military occupancy of the city, its soldiers tried to turn TIZ into a garrison town, imposing themselves, stopping citizens, checking their IDs, etc. The invasion and aftermath brought protests from UK and US and the Francoist state had to give assurances that the city would not be fortified and that the international institutions would be restored (‘U.S. Protests Step of Spain in Tangier’, New York Times, 16-Nov-1940, www.nytimes.com). At the end of the war the Allies forced the Spanish to withdraw…the TIZ continued until 1956 when the independent Kingdom of Morocco was created with Tangier subsumed within the new Maghreb nation.
PostScript: About a decade after its international status was terminated, Tangier became a sought-out destination for a whole new category of outsiders, the ”beat generation”, Western writers and artists like William S Burroughs. Within a few years other counterculture devotees were flocking to Tangier as it became part of the Moroccan hippie trail (although soon upstaged by Marrakech as the preferred ‘Mecca’ for Western non-conformists in Morocco).
⇿———-———⇿⇿———-———⇿⇿———-———⇿
❈ Tangier first acquired the status of a free city in 38 BC under imperial Rome
◍ gambling was not permitted in Moroccan cities, whereas the activity flourished in nightclubs in the International Zone, so the fact that it is featured in Casablanca gives further credence to the idea that Tangier was the template for the movie (Cinema Vox)
◘ the Statute was criticised for several shortcomings – including a lack of democracy, Tangierinos were disenfranchised; and TIZ’s economic interests were neglected (Stuart)
Mention “The Ten Commandments” to cinephiles and almost invariably they’ll think of the 1956 epic with Chuck Heston as the resolute Moses. But that was Cecil B DeMille’s second attempt at filming the Old Testament story, or his (Cold War-inspired) interpretation of it at least. Back when Hollywood was still in it’s adolescence, 1923, DeMille made a silent version of The Ten Commandments, in black and white with some sequences in Technicolor.
(Image: www.bestplaces.com)
The location chosen by DeMille for his first go at shooting the biblical epic was a barren 18-mile stretch of sand some 170 miles north of LA, at Guadalupe on California’s central coast. Today, the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes, as they are called, are a protected sea coast and wildlife refuge (eg, for the endangered western snowy plover) and largely unchanged, but for three months in 1923 it was a hive of mega-budget movie-making activity as DeMille transformed the empty dunes into a reconstruction of an ancient Egyptian city. DeMille chose the Guadalupe dunes for the movie set because he thought it might pass for the Egyptian desert (or at least the Sahara Desert) [‘Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes’, Atlas Obscura, www.altasobscura.com].
𐅉 ‘10 Commandments’ of California in glorious “techni-tint”
Hollywood scale extravaganza
The set was massive scale, destined to become the director’s trademark – 120 foot high by 720 feet wide, erected by 1,500 construction workers, a twelve-story tall “Egyptian city” of plaster, wood and straw. The city’s human population comprised a further 3,500 actors✖and technicians plus 125 cooks to feed the assembled masses. Add to these impressive numbers some 5,000 animals, 300 chariots and 21 plaster sphinxes. Statues of Pharaoh Rameses were eleven metres tall and the facade had a 110-foot high gate enclosure✧[‘The Ten Commandments, (1923 film)’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org; Bob Brier, Egyptomania: Our Three Thousand Year Obsession with the Land of the Pharaohs, (2013); www.lostcitydemille.com].
(Source: G-N Dune Center)
A Virtuous Camp DeMille?
DeMille had a huge makeshift tent city erected (nicknamed “Camp DeMille”) to house all of the personnel on the set. Perhaps, in keeping with the overtly religious theme of the film⊡, DeMille laid down strict rules of non-engagement for everyone involved on the production…men and women were billeted separately with no fraternisation allowed, no gambling, no alcohol and no coarse language [‘The Ten Commandments of 1923: The Exodus, Take One’, Patheos, 20-Apr-2012, www.patheos.com]. The alcohol ban adhered to the Prohibition rules in place in America at the time, but subsequent generations of beach-combing visitors to Guadalupe’s dunes have discovered evidence that participants on the movie set found a way round that…the debris of empty bottles of alcohol-laced cough syrup strewn all over the dunes [PJ Grisar, ‘How DeMille made his ‘Ten Commandments’ Jewish again’, Forward, 08-Apr-2020, www.forward.com].
A vanishing “Egyptian metropolis”
After filming of The Ten Commandments on the Central Coast finished in August 1923✥, what DeMille did next astounds. Instead of dismantling and hauling the costly set (the overall budget for the movie was a staggering $1.5M or more) back to Hollywood, DeMille had it bulldozed and buried in the Guadalupe dunes. The film-maker just didn’t want to be bothered with the logistics or expense of an enormous removal task and/or he didn’t want rival Hollywood film-makers or studios to get their hands on the set.
(Photo:www.fws.gov)
Unearthing cinematic artefacts
And there it sat—or shifted around in the constantly swirling winds of the dunes—for sixty years, one of Hollywood’s most expensive-ever film sets. Then in 1983 film-maker Peter Brosnan became intrigued after a chance encounter with the story, got hooked on it and spent the next 30 years searching for the site, finding it and trying (frustratingly) to excavate it. The project is ongoing, and has taken this length of time due to a combination of factors – local “red tape” (jurisdiction of the dunes falls under two separate counties); the site is a bird-life sanctuary with limited, seasonal access; plus there’s the extremely high cost of funding excavations. Over the years, archaeologists, both professional and amateur, have joined the quest to dig up DeMille’s treasure-trove. Buried replicas from DeMille’s Lost City have been unearthed including a 300-pound plaster sphinx which now resides in the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes Center [‘There’s a Fake Egyptian City Buried in California’, (Marissa Fessenden), Smithsonian Magazine, 15-Oct-2015, www.smithsonianmag.com]. Brosnan compiled his years of research, including interviews with surviving actors, extras and other crew members, into a documentary film, The Lost City of Cecil B. DeMille, screened in 2016.
✖DeMille also bused in some 250 Orthodox Jews as extras to give the movie a more authentic Hebrew look
✧ Rameses’ ‘temple’ contained recreations of hieroglyphics copied from the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb in 1922
⊡ certainly in keeping with the sternly moralising tone of DeMille’s film
✥ only part of the film was made on the Guadalupe dunes, the wonky parting of the Red Sea scene was shot at Seal Beach in Orange County, and a modern-day morality tale DeMille tacked on to the film was shot back at the studios
From near Changchun’s central train station we waved down a cab to take us to the site of Changchun’s cinematic claim to glory in China, the Jilin province city’s pioneering film studios. Although it looked fairly close on Google Maps it took an eternity to get to the former movie site of CFS, Changchun Film Studios. Road distance in China is measured in the conventional way by metric length, but also by the number of motor vehicles they’re are between point A (where you are) and point B (where you want to go).
The setting for the film studios is an impressive one. From the street front you enter a big green park and walk up a grand, sweeping drive. At the top of the drive is the film studio complex, but before you reach the studio entrance, you have to contend with Mao Tse-tung. There he is, “the Chairman”standing erect, as he was in life, larger than the life of any one Chinese person. A gigantic, white statue of Mao, waving benignly at every human figure passing within the shadow of his massive, immovable image※.
It was quite late in the day by now but we were still keen after travelling that far, to see inside the CFS Factory/Museum. The callow youth on the turnstiles gate had other ideas…he point-blank refused us entry because it was after 4 o’clock, less than an hour till the museum closed. Unable to dissuade him, we went away disgruntled but decided to explore the outside parts of the site anyway.
This bore unexpected fruit as we discovered a nice little courtyard adjacent to the factory with an overt military touch (statues of heroic patriotic types and other martial figures, battle-green painted artillery guns, etc). The factory’s military theme is continued in the forecourt which exhibits a fighter plane of 1950s vintage.
Before leaving altogether we chanced a quick look-through of the CFS gift shop which was still open. This proved a fortuitous diversion on our part…while unenthusiastically perusing the shop’s uninspiring assortment of predictable souvenirs on the shelves we noticed a side door ajar which we took advantage of by slipping through it and into the exhibits area. Thus, through a combination of arse-lucky opportunism and devious initiative we did gain entry to the factory after all and for gratis!
The public CFS Studios display comprised a long, darkly-lit corridor which threw the lighted exhibits down one side into relief. These exhibits were a miscellany of items reflecting the film company’s past productions, the result undoubtedly of a raid on the props department and the costume wardrobes (old military weapons, uniforms and paraphernalia), old style 35mm film cameras and sound recording machines, etc.
The military theme of the factory exhibition was further underscored in the choice of film posters to display…war movies galore! The impression that CFS’ most popular movie genre was war was hard to ignore on this evidence.
Peaking inside a few of the rooms running off the main corridor revealed that the complex was still a hub for contemporary film-making. Production tech staff could be seen working on documentary and TV projects using modern technical equipment (not the antique stuff in the corridor).
Another room off the corridor held a small viewing theatre…surprisingly to me the projector was running a 1930s British B & W film starring Larry Olivier (not dubbed into Chinese and no one watching!). Elsewhere in the room there were pictures and bios of Chinese film-makers, dubbers and other behind-the-camera personnel who had made a contribution at CFS Films during its halcyon days.
The props displayed were for the most part interesting and authentic-looking (authentically old too!), but I did find the stuffed tiger mounted and encased in glass right at the end of the passageway rather incongruous and something that didn’t add to the CFS collection.
Changchun Film Studio Group Corporation (Ch: 长春电影集团公司) (to give it its formal title) was the first film production unit registered by the PRC in 1949 after the communist victory. Changchun Film Studios was chosen to fill the cinema production void left by the Japanese Manchukuo Film Association and the Northeast Film Studio. The Corporation also operates the somewhat maligned Changchun Film Theme Park elsewhere in the city.
____________________________________
※ Mao’s Goliath-proportioned statue and other plaques in the park are propaganda pieces for the government commemorating the communist state’s establishment (October 1, 1949)
Cinesound is a name that resonates brightly in the history of Australia’s film industry – it harks back to a time when the indigenous industry still had a place of some significance in the pecking order of world cinema. The establishment of Cinesound Studios (in 1931) to make talking motion pictures, evolved out of a group of movie exhibiting companies (including Australasian Films and Union Theatres) which had coalesced into Greater Union Theatres in the Twenties.
In 1925 Australasian Films purchased a roller skating rink at 65 Ebley Street, Bondi Junction, in Sydney’s eastern suburbs. Australasian converted part of the premises into a film studio but maintained the skating rink as an ongoing commercial concern to help finance the studios’ film production (by day a film studio, by night a skating rink) [‘Cinesound: From roller rink to sound stage’, (Waverley Library), www.waverley.nsw.gov.au].
# 1 Studios Bondi Junction ⬇
Greater Union (henceforth GUT) was involved in all forms of the movie business – production, distribution and exhibition. The Bondi Studios made a few silent films in the late 1920s, like The Adorable Outcast and most notably The Term of His Natural Life which cost £60,000 and bombed badly at the box office [‘Cinesound Productions’, Sydney Morning Herald, 06-Aug-1934 (Trove).
Stuart F Doyle, GUT managing director, appointed former film publicist Ken G Hall as general manager of the newly formed Cinesound Productions. Two more Cinesound studio locations were opened, one at nearby Rushcutters Bay and the other at St Kilda (in Melbourne). Over an eight-year period (1932-40), with Hall at the helm as producer-director, Cinesound produced 17 feature films (16 of which were directed by Hall). The first of the sequence, On Our Selection, revolved round the adventures of one of Australian cinema’s most popular characters, Dad Rudd and his family. The film, benefiting from a new sound-recording system invented in Tasmania, was a box office triumph for Cinesound, earning £46,000 in Australia and New Zealand by the end of 1933, providing a tremendous fillip for the fledgling studios [Andrew Pike & Ross Cooper, Australian Film 1900-1977: A Guide to Feature Film Production, (1998)].
Studios # 1 at Bondi Junction※ provided a large interior space for film production, over 20,000 square feet…with more than 100 craftsmen on the staff, the facility was equipped to complete “all stages of production, processing and sound recording, in the preparation of topical, scenic, educational, industrial, and microscopic films” [SMH, 06-Aug-1934, loc.cit.]. Some newspapers of the day erroneously referred to the main studios as being #3 and the location as Waverley (an adjoining suburb of Bondi Junction).
Cinesound and Hall exploited On Our Selection’s popularity with a series of sequels, Grandad Rudd, Dad and Dave Come to Town and Dad Rudd, MP. Of these the ‘Dad and Dave’ entry especially proved a hit, matching the profitability of the original movie.
↗ Ken G Hall (centre) with American actress Helen Twelvetrees during filming of ‘Thoroughbred’ (photo: Mitchell Library)
Sydney’s ‘Little Hollywood’ While Ken G Hall’s cinematic canvas was unmistakably Australian (only one of the Cinesound movies was not set in Australia), his approach to film-making saw Hollywood clearly as the model. With the characteristic “spirit of a showman”✺, Hall wanted to shape Cinesound Studios in the Hollywood mould⊡…to create a “Little Hollywood” with a star system, hyped-up promotion of the studios’ movies, etc. [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.].
↗ Twelvetrees outside Cinesound Studios
FT and Efftee Studios Sydney-based Cinesound’s domestic rival in the film-making caper was Melbourne’s Efftee Studios, started by theatrical entrepreneur Frank W Thring (FT) in 1930. Thring produced the first commercially-viable sound feature-length film in Australia, Diggers (1931) in collaboration with Pat Hanna. Efftee, unlike Cinesound though, had to import the optical sound system for its movies from the USA. [‘Efftee Studios’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. Other notable Efftee films of the Thirties include an adaption of CJ Dennis’ The Sentimental Bloke to the screen, and several George Wallace vehicles, His Royal Highness, Harmony Row and A Ticket in Tatts. Thring’s premature death in 1935 put paid to Efftee Studios’ productions.
⬆️ Australian cinema’s long tradition of Bushranger flicks beginning with the original 1906 feature film
The outlawing of bushranger films A 1930s Cinesound project for a film based on the popular Australian novel, Robbery Under Arms was quashed as it would have transgressed the standing prohibition by the NSW government (in force since 1912), banning movies about bushrangers✪ [‘Bonuses for Films’, Sydney Morning Herald, 20-Oct-1934 (Trove); ‘Bushranger ban’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
Shirley Ann Richards: Cinesound’s contract female star In accordance with Ken G Hall’s star-making approach, he fostered the career of actress Shirley Ann Richards, starring her in several of his films (It Isn’t Done, Tall Timbers, Lovers and Luggers and Dad and Dave Come to Town). Richards, Cinesound’s only star under long-term contract, later emigrated to America and had a reasonably high profile Hollywood career (under the name Ann Richards).
The Kellaway brothers and Cinesound Alec Kellaway and his more famous brother Cecil were feature players for Hall and Cinesound. Alec was a regular performer, appearing in a raft of the studio’s movies including The Broken Melody, Mr Chedworth Steps Out and several of the Dad Rudd series. South African-born Cecil Kellaway started his acting career on the Australian stage, establishing himself first as a top Australian theatre star before appearing in two Cinesound films where his performances opened studio doors in Hollywood for him…Kellaway subsequently carved out a career as a major character actor in numerous US films.
George Wallace, Aussie “king of comedy” In addition to being a prominent actor in Efftee Studios musical-comedies, George Wallace was Ken G Hall’s “go-to” favourite comic performer, starring in two late 1930s Cinesound films directed by Hall – Let George Do It and Gone to the Dogs.With the outbreak of world war Cinesound called a halt on feature film production. During the war years the studios directed all energies into making newsreels, initially covering the war against Japan and beyond that on all aspects of Australiana.
Newsreel rivalry: Cinesound Vs Movietone: the focus on newsreels by Cinesound was not a novel innovation. From its outset Cinesound produced newsreels – short documentary films containing news stories and items of topical interest – in competition with the rival Fox Movietone company. The two newsreels differed in content, Cinesound concentrated on Australian only topics while Movietone covered a mix of international and national news✤.
Newsreels in Australia prior to 1956 occupied a unique place in media and communications. Before the introduction of television, cinema-goers’ exposure to newsreels (part of the “warm-up” for the main feature) were the only images Australians saw of their land – the footage of elections, natural disasters and other such events [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.]. Thus, newsreels like the Cinesound Review, with its distinctive red kangaroo symbol, were an important source of news and current affairs, and were an integral part of the cinema program [‘Cinesound Movietone Australian Newsreels’, (ASO) (Poppy De Souza), www.aso.gov.au]✙. According to Anthony Buckley, the newsreels reflected Ken G Hall’s “pride and spirited nationalism” [Buckley, A, ‘Obituary: Ken G. Hall’, The Independent (London), 17-Feb-1994].
The studios site post-Cinesound In 1951 Cinesound sold off the Ebley Street building which became a factory manufacturing American soft drink. However, between 1956 and 1973 the building reverted to the world of visual communications, housing various film and television production companies including Ajax Films. Following that, it housed a furniture retailer. Today it is the home of a Spotlight store (fabrics and home interiors) [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.].
Ken G Hall in his autobiography contended that Cinesound Productions never lost money on any feature films. Some did very well – crime drama The Silence of Dean Maitland, for instance, for an outlay of £10,000 returned takings of more than £70,000 in Australia and the UK [Graham Shirley & Brian Adams, Australian Cinema: The First Eighty Years, (1989)]. One Cinesound movie however, strictly-speaking, probably did lose money…Roy Rene’s single venture into celluloid, Strike Me Lucky, in which ‘Mo’s’ humour, robbed of it’s spontaneity in live performance didn’t translate well to the big screen and was reflected in negative critical reviews and at the box office [Film Review: ‘Strike Me Lucky’, Sydney Morning Herald, 19-Nov-1934 (Trove)]. Despite Hall’s faith in the studios’ films, from 1937 there was a decline in box office returns (prompting GUT head Doyle to resign). Another (external) factor affecting Cinesound profitability occurred in 1938 with the passing of the Cinematograph Films Act in the UK…under this legislation Australian films no longer counted as local, their removal from the British quota meant a loss of market for Cinesound and other Australian movie producers [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.].
The war resulted in a temporary halt to Cinesound feature films, however the studios made only one more (postwar) feature film, Smithy, a biopic about pioneering aviator Charles Kingsford Smith in 1946. Another blow to Cinesound’s future prospects at this time was a move by Rank Organisation – the British film giant purchased a controlling interest in Greater Union, preferring to use it to exhibit its own UK films in Australia [‘The first wave of Australian feature film production FROM EARLY PROMISE TO FADING HOPES’, http://afcarchive.screenaustralia.gov.au].
⬆️ ‘Smithy’ star Ron Randell later pursued a career in Hollywood
Stuart Doyle’s contribution WWII took all the impetus out of the Australian industry, there was a shortage of performers and crew due to recruitment and conscription. Stock available for film was also in short supply, what there was directed first and foremost to making propaganda and news films in support of the allies’ side. More particular to Cinesound’s challenges, the loss of MD Stuart Doyle before the war was especially telling. Film production is high cost (especially sound which proved massively more expensive) and high risk…Hall’s ability to pursue a good number of projects in the Thirties, depended on Doyle’s willingness to take a risk with Cinesound. When he departed, he was replaced by a “risk-adverse accountant who favoured real estate over film production” [ibid.].
Footnote: Cinesound Talent School The Cinesound people eventually established its own talent school for young actors. Run by George Cross and Alec Kellaway (a regular player in Cinesound movies)…offering training in “deportment, enunciation, miming, microphone technique and limbering”✥. By 1940 the school had had over 200 students including Grant Taylor, later a prominent actor in Australian movies and TV dramas [‘Cinesound Talent School, SMH, 02-Feb-1939, (Trove); Cinesound Productions’, Wiki, op.cit.].
┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍┅┉╍
※ In 2002 GUT merged with Village Roadshow, these days Greater Union picture theatres go under the name ‘Event Cinemas’
✺ a trait shared by Greater Union boss Doyle ⊡ the company even closed down production at Bondi for several months in 1935 to let Hall go off to Hollywood to study American film techniques
✪ the state authorities felt that the popularity of the bushranger film genre would exert an ‘unhealthy’ influence on Australians, especially on the young, and make them more resistant to authority
✤ the two newsreel providers merged in 1970, forming the Australian Movie Magazine which folded in 1975
✙ the 1978 film drama Newsfront is a fictionalised account of newsreel makers in Australia between the late Forties and mid Fifties which includes actual newsreel footage from the period
✥ school director Kellaway’s brief was teaching dramatics and mic technique
Ealing is a name synonymous with British film comedy, Ealing comedies of the late 1940s through the 1950s…high quality, well written and acted feature films such as Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Lavender Hill Mob, The Man in the White Suit and The Ladykillers✲.
Ealing’s film association with Australia is less well known. It’s genesis lay with Ealing’s movie mogul and powerful postwar image-maker, Michael Balcon. With the Second World War still raging, Balcon despatched documentary film director Harry Watt to Australia to explore its filmable story possibilities. Balcon was looking to make films which reflected “the strength, diversity and stoicism of the (British) Commonwealth” [‘Ealing Studios in Australia: An Introduction ‘, (Stephen Morgan) (2012), www.thefarparadise.wordpress.com].
Pagewood before Ealing …
Once Ealing committed to Australia as a film production location, it sought out appropriate studios for projects, which it found in the southern Sydney suburb of Pagewood. These studios in fact were already operating as a film production unit…constructed in 1935 for National Studios❄ in anticipation of an expansion of the local film industry as a result of the Film Quota Act (1936) which imposed a minimum domestic quota on the level of film distribution in New South Wales❂. The studios’ first production was Charles Chauvel’sUncivilised and other significant, early Australian movies were shot there – including Columbia’s “Australian Western” Rangle River (1936)and Ken G Hall’s Dad Rudd, MP (1940) – but a pattern of closures of National Studios (1937-40, 1942-45) hampered its efforts to establish itself as a film production unit [Sydney Morning Herald, 27-May-1936 (Trove)].
In 1946 Harry Watt fulfilled the task set him by Studio head Balcon by writing and directing the first feature for Ealing “down under”. The Overlanders, the story of an epic cattle drive across the continent, made Chips Rafferty an international star and an Australian screen icon.
The success of The Overlanders prompted Ealing to establish a film base in Australia. At the beginning of 1949 it acquired the struggling Pagewood studios❇. Ealing took over a “shambles of a place” (rundown through neglect and misuse by both the Australian and US armies during WWII occupancy), but nonetheless it invested considerable capital into the property to create state-of-the-art film studios with first-rate sound-engineering departments, cutting room and sound stage – a concern worth all up £100,000 [“The studio for indoor filming of ‘Kangaroo’ “, Barrier Miner (Broken Hill), 11-Sep-1950 (Trove)].
Chips Rafferty was chosen to head up the cast of Watt’s next Ealing Australian movie Eureka Stockade (1949) – the dramatic and symbolic story of miner resistance to overbearing British rule on the 1850s goldfields. ‘Eureka’ (released in the US as Massacre Hill failed at the box office (general consensus of critics was that Chips was miscast in the lead role of the 1850s Irish-Australian rebel Peter Lalor).
Bitter Springsdirected by Ralph Smart followed…this time with Chips more comfortable returning to the role of courageous pioneering bushman in the Australian outback. The most interesting aspect of Bitter Springs is that it was prepared to tackle the polemical topic of indigenous land rights – in the movie white settlers clash with local Aboriginal people (Pitjantjatjara and Kokatha Mula tribes) over the possession of land. This screen subject was 25 to 30 years ahead of its time, however an assimilationist mindset prevails in its handling…in one scene Wally (Chip’s character) betrays the gross ignorance of Europeans about Aboriginal Australian – when the fair-minded territorial ranger (Michael Pate) questions the planned land grab, Wally summarily dismisses the Aborigines’ claim to the disputed land, stating that the Aboriginal culture was only about 1,000 years old! [Morgan, loc.cit.]✥. One jarring note is that the serious theme of Bitter Springs is undermined by Ealing’s decision to cast comic Tommy Trinder in the movie, Trinder’s character’s constant cracking of jokes tends to deflate the build-up of tension arising from the film’s central conflict between the blacks and the whites [Byrnes, ‘ASO’].
Chips Rafferty ▼
After 1950 however Ealing made few of its own films at the Pagewood Studios, instead it leased out the premises to other movie production companies, eg, to 20th Century Fox who made Kangaroo (1952) at Pagewood with Maureen O’Hara, the first technicolor film made in Australia.
Closing chapters of Ealing Pagewood
In 1952 the Pagewood Studios shut down production◙ (in what was meant to be a temporary move only), but the following year Ealing sold the studios to Associated Television which renamed the studios “Television City” and leased it to independent film producers. A 1954 independent production of the “Treasure Island” tale, Long John Silver, (with Robert Newton) was filmed at Pagewood (interiors) and exteriors shot at the Royal National Park [‘AAARRRHH There Matey! – The Strange and Wondrous Tale of Bill Constable & the Cinemascope Pirates of Pagewood…’ (Bob Hill, Oct 2018) www.apdg.org.au].
Ealing had been trying to make Robbery Under Arms in Australia since 1949 but it was finally completed by Ealing’s parent company Rank Organisation in 1957 – with some footage shot at Pagewood but mostly in London (exteriors: Flinders Ranges and near Bourke) [‘Film World Weather in Australia Disappoints Studio’, The West Australian, 03-Nov-1949, (Trove)].
Pagewood on it’s last legs
The final film to be made (or partly made) at what had become Television City (Pagewood) was a film version of the hit Australian play Summer of the Seventeenth Doll (1958/59). ‘Doll’ was made by Burt Lancaster’s HHL company using US and British leads…the production however took radical liberties with Lawler’s play and the film was ultra-Americanised with unsatisfactory results. In 1959 the Pagewood site was sold to General Motors Holden Australia which allowed the car manufacturer to expand its existing plant in the suburb. In the Eighties the studios’ land (and the adjacent bus depot) were redeveloped again, becoming the location of Westfield’s huge Eastgardens shopping mall and a housing estate built by the Meriton Group [‘Pagewood Studios’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
GMH Pagewood ▼
Ealing’s last Antipodean hooray
The Siege of Pinchgut (1959) was Ealing’s last film shot in and with an Australian setting (and as it transpired, it proved to be the company’s final ever adult feature). Harry Watt came back to direct what was a grim convicts-on-the-run drama filmed around Fort Denison (Pinchgut) in Sydney Harbour. ‘Pinchgut’, released in the US as Four Desperate Men, did not succeed at the box office⊛.
Australia closed for film-makers!
Ealing’s venture in Australia was never really a secure one…the follow up films to The Overlanders yielded only disappointing returns. The writing was on the wall for Ealing’s Australian enterprise from the time Menzies’ Liberal-Country Party won power in Australia in 1949 and took an antithetical attitude towards domestic film production. The LCP government refused to renew Ealing’s lease on the Pagewood Studios (a bitter pill for Ealing who’d already spent considerable funds on the Pagewood project). In a move which set the industry in Australia back decades, the government deemed that “film making was not an essential industry” and pointed out that the lease-holders (Ealing) were not an Australian residents in any case [The A-Z of Australian and New Zealand Cinema, (Albert Moran & Errol Vieth), (2009)].
If that wasn’t the tipping point for Ealing, it came with the studios’ own assessment… Balcon authorised the company’s accountant to undertake an financial evaluation of the Australian studios’ viability – which was negative [ibid.]. In the words of Eric Williams (manager at the Ealing Pagewood Studios), ultimately Ealing found it “impossible to maintain continuous production at a range of 12,000 miles”. That there was no Australian sponsor for productions was put forward as an additional disincentive for staying [‘Decision a blow to film industry’, The Mail (Adelaide), 26-Jan-1952 (Trove)].
PostScript: The failure of Ealing’s Australian venture was merely one chapter in the larger story of Ealing Studios’ global rise and fall. The rising costsand risks of big budget films of the parent company in Britain, large staff numbers and increasing expenditures, all contributed to the toll of financial problems plaguing Ealing and the UK industry as a whole…leading to Ealing’s eventual demise (this accumulation of pressures forced production head Balcon to unload Ealing in 1955).Note: the original 1930s studios in West London (above) were bought by the BBC in the 1990s and resurrected as a facility for hire [‘Remembering Ealing Studios and the golden age of British film’, BBC News, (Vincent Dowd), 30-Aug-2015, www.bbc.com].
︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵︵‿✲ and by association, synonymous also with actor Alec Guinness, the star of most of this “purple patch” of Ealing classics
❂ unfortunately the state government failed to back its own law, not allocating adequate funding to its implementation… when resisted by Hollywooddistributors the legislationwas killed off by the end of 1937
❇ Pagewood’s rival film production houses in Sydney, Cinesound at Bondi Junction and Figtree Studios at Lane Cove had folded, and turned into, respectively, a cordial factory and a transport depot [Barrier Miner, 11-Sep-1950]
✥ Wally’s band of settlers reinforce the stereotype with “disparaging views about stone-age men who do nothing with the land” [‘Bitter Springs (1950)’ Synopsis, (Paul Byrnes), ASO mobile, www.aso.gov.au]
◙ described by Ken G Hall as “a fatal blow” to the national film industry which would relegate Australia to “the bottom of the list of the world’s 60 film producing countries”
⊛ although an historical point of interest of the movie are shots of what was left of the old Fort Macquarie Tram Depot then being demolished for the construction of Sydney Opera House [‘Siege of Pinchgut’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]
❛ Wherever you look, it’s a case of “Blow you, Jack, I’m all right”. ❜
(Stanley Windrush)
☬ ☬ ☬ ☬ ☬ ☬ ☬
The Boulting Brothers created some of postwar Britain’s most distinctive films across several genres, but it is their joyous 1959 comedy I’m All Right Jack that stands tallest in the film-making twin brothers’ oeuvre of cinematic comedy classics.
I’m All Right Jack takes up pretty much where it’s prequel, Private’s Progress, left off. The protagonist of both movies is the gullible and seemingly gormless Stanley Windrush (played to a tee by Ian Carmichael). Naive and good-natured, the persona of Stanley can be best summed up as epitomising the bungling, accident-prone, upper class twit.
In Private’s Progress Windrush “pussyfoots” his way through his army war service, causing unintended mayhem and allowing himself inadvertently to be duped…then by mistake he precipitates a chain of events leading to the capture of a division of enemy German soldiers and ends up an accidental war hero of sorts!
In I’m All Right Jack the Boultings reprise several of the previous film’s characters and actors…as well as ‘Stanley’ there is his scheming, unscrupulous “Uncle Bertie”, Bertram Tracepurcel (played by the urbane Dennis Price) and his harassed personnel manager, “Major Hitchcock” (the gap-toothed “professional cad” Terry-Thomas). Richard Attenborough plays “Sydney Cox”, Tracepurcel’s co-conspirator in perfidy and supposedly Stanley’s old friend from the war – the smoothest of smooth con men!
Ian Carmichael (Stanley) ◬ with ‘IARJ’ co-star Liz Fraser
I’m All Right Jack satirises 1950s British society, still coming out of the straitjacket of postwar austerity, with sabre-like sharpness. The Boultings’ film fixes its microscope on industrial relations in a missiles production factory, exposing both the bosses and its blue collar workforce as unconscionable and utterly self-serving, solely out for what they can get for themselves! The Boulting brothers are “equal opportunity satirisers”, skewering management and labour alike to a commensurate degree. For both sides of the workplace divide, self-interest is unchallengingly the “drug of choice”, hence the film’s title⍟. The Boutlings also dish up a few barbs aimed at the fact-loose world of advertising along the way.
◬ Stanley’s bubble-car at the gate of Missiles Ltd
The film portrays the plant workers as work-shy and devious in their tunnel-visioned pursuit of the singular goal of doing less work than they are required to do✥…Stanley unknowingly upsets the “apple-cart” by demonstrating to the company’s T & M man (the ever-dour John Le Mesurier – another Boulting recruit from Private’s Progress) just how much work can actually be done in a day if one makes a “fair dinkum” effort (and of course this results in him being ostracised by the factory’s union). The factory management show themselves to be equally duplicitous – engaged in enriching themselves through a corrupt, clandestine arms deal with a swarthy, shonky Middle Eastern intermediary.
I’m All Right Jack also takes a comical pot shot at other societal institutions of the day – government for its torpid ineptitude, the English class system, advertising and the tabloid media for their falseness and alarming capacity to sway public opinion – lampooning each of them in turn! The Boultings are showing a Britain that is corrupt at its core, one that unearthed a late 1950s generation of “angry young men” dissatisfied with the blandness of society of the status quo [‘I’m All Right Jack review – Philip French on the Boulting brothers’ biting state-of-the-nation satire’, The Guardian, 18-Jan-2015, www.guardian.com].
Peter Sellers as Fred Kite is the movie’s stand-out, producing a gem of a performance. Kite is the comedy’s pivotal character, the chief shop steward who orchestrates the factory floor’s “go-slow” work culture, zealously obstructing management at every opportunity. “Red Fred” is your archetypal ‘Bolshy’ minor trade union official (with a Hitlerian moustache), but a union ‘heavy’ more ridiculous than menacing…a “Stalinist Don Quixote, tilting with alarming predictability at the windmills constructed by his own class enemies” [Timeout, www.timeout.com]. Sellers’ ‘Kite’ is given to awkward, Gothic turns of phrase and a pompous, halting, almost robotic mode of speech…in his essence he is hilarious as a blinkered Sovietphile idealist: “Ahhh (he sighs wistfully), Russia. All them corn fields and ballet in the evening”❂ [‘ I’m All Right Jack and The Organizer: Bread and Roses and a Lot of Laughs’, Criterion, (Michael Stragow), 19-Jan-2018, www.criterion.com].
Sellers as Kite (centre) ◬
The success of I’m All Right Jack (it was the number one box office hit in the UK for 1959 and winner of a BAFTA award) triggered a number of British films focussing on the world of worker/management relations – including the diametrically different in tone The Angry Silence (1960) (also with Richard Attenborough).
The film climaxes with Stanley, having finally ‘twigged’ to the IR game he has unwittingly been a pawn in, exposing both sides for their greed and duplicity on national television. I’m All Right Jack ends with Stanley ‘retiring’ to a rural nudist colony…he is invited by a bevy of naked women, discretely obscured by a hedge (it was 1959 after all!) to a game of tennis. The characteristically nervous Stanley bolts at the suggestion and is last seen hareing full-tilt across a meadow frantically pursued by the bare damsels.
PostScript: A punchline for the nascent anti-Apartheid movement
The Boultings’ film resonated in unexpected circles. The New Zealand Rugby Union, unwilling to offend South Africa’s racist policy of non-contact between whites and non-whites in sport, declined to select any Māori players for the 1960 All Blacks tour of South Africa (the Nash Labour government was fully complicit in this gutless act of appeasement). The ensuing controversy provoked widespread protests within NZ (a call for “No Maoris, no tour”) and a most memorable placard inspired by the film: “I’m All White, Jack!”
✲ directed by John Boulting, produced by brother Roy, and written by John with Frank Harvey from a novel by Alan Hackney (the same creators of Private’s Progress)
⍟ “I’m All right Jack” (of naval origin) was a popular UK expression of the period, meant to signify a smug and complacent self-centredness
✥ a recurring Boulting theme…in both Private’s Progress and I’m All Right Jack Windrush enters a world of “gold-bricks”, people doggedly determined to go the last mile to evade work of any kind
❂ apparently BBC Television in 1979 canned a scheduled screening of I’m All Right Jack for fear that Sellers’ ‘Kite’ might prejudice viewers against the Labour Party in an upcoming election! [ibid.]
One of the iconic historic associations with the hills of Appalachia is the fateful conflict in the last quarter of the 19th century between two mountain-dwelling families – the Hatfields and the McCoys. The feud between the two “warring clans” has tended to be wrapped in the veneer of legend, obscured by the myth-making of popular culture over the decades. The McCoy-Hatfield feud has featured in a raft of US books, songs, comic strips, feature movies and television shows (with both animated and human content)✱. These overwhelmingly fictionalised narratives of the Hatfields and the McCoys have vouchsafed a place for them in the annals of American folklore and at the same time contributed to the caricatured impression of ‘hillbillies’ in the popular consciousness.
Tug Fork Valley and the family patriarchs
In the 19th century the McCoys lived (as they do today) on the Kentucky side of Tug Fork (a tributary of the Big Sandy River), with the Hatfields residing on the other side of the river (in West Virginia). The Hatfield patriarch was William Anderson Hatfield, widely known as ‘Devil Anse’, while the patriarch of the McCoys was Randolph McCoy (sometimes identified as ‘Randall’ McCoy). Of the two families the Hatfields were appreciably more affluent than the McCoys (Devil Anse’s profitable timber business employed many men including some McCoys).
Patriarch of the Hatfield family, ‘Devil Anse’ ⬇Background to the feud
The earliest incident between the two families seemed to have occurred during the Civil War…in 1865 Asa Harmon McCoy, who fought with the Union during the war, was ambushed and killed by members of a local Confederate militia connected to the Hatfield family. Some have identified the feud’s genesis in the murder, but Harmon McCoy’s siding with the North (while almost all of the McCoys and the Hatfields gave their allegiances to the Confederacy) made him unpopular with both families. His death did not trigger a reprisal and most historians have concluded that the incident was a stand-alone event [‘The Hatfield & McCoy Feud’, History, www.history.com].
A porcine pretext for feuding
Some thirteen years after the shooting of Randall McCoy’s brother, a new incident was the catalyst for a downward decline in relations between the McCoys and the Hatfields. The trigger was a dispute over the ownership of a razorback hog in 1878. The McCoy clan claimed that the Hatfields had stolen one of their pigs. A subsequent legal case (known as the “Hog Trial”) was brought before the local Justice of the Peace (who happened to be a Hatfield), who predictably dismissed the charge…the McCoys responded by killing one of the allies of the Hatfields.
Makings of a vendetta: “Tit-for-tat” acts of vengeance
Over the next ten to twelve years a pattern emerged of accusations, recriminations, acts of violence and retaliations – with excesses on both sides. Both clans used their connexions with the law in ‘home’ jurisdiction (either Kentucky or West Virginia) to try to exact retribution against the other. In separate incidents, the McCoy boys ‘arrested’ Johnse (pronounced “John-see”) Hatfield after he entered into a romantic liaison with Roseanna McCoy✦, followed in turn by Hatfield constables apprehending and extraditing three of Roseanna’s brothers for the killing of Devil Anse Hatfield’s brother Ellison.
Escalation and denouement of the feud
By now “bad blood” was endemic between the families. In the years after 1882 the conflict escalated dramatically…killings met with counter-killings (more than 12 members or associates of the two families died during the decade). A Hatfield raid on the McCoy patriarch’s farm in 1888 – known as the ‘New Year Night’s Massacre’ – resulted in the murder of two of Randolph McCoy’s children. The subsequent Battle of the Grapevine Creek, an attempt by the Hatfields to take out the McCoys once and for all, resulted in an ambush gone wrong…the tables were turned on the Hatfield raiders and the bulk of their number were arrested. Over the next few years they were tried and all given jail sentences (except one, possibly a ‘scapegoat’, who was executed). The ill feelings slowly dissipated with the conclusion of the trials and the conflict receded from memory – in 1890 the New York Times reported that the feud was at an end (there was in fact still the odd simmering flare-up such as in the mid 1890s but the potentially explosive incidents were effectively over) [‘A Long Feud Ended’, NYT, 06-Sep-1890, www.rarenewspapers.com].
⇧ Hatfield clan 1890s
Scope of the feud: a media “beat-up”?
While the McCoy-Hatfield feud played out in the Appalachians, the Eastern Seaboard press whetted the public’s imagination with its well-received accounts of the conflict. The press coverage tended to be negative, especially towards the wealthier Hatfields, who it portrayed as “violent backwoods hillbillies” roaming the mountains wreaking violence. As the shootings continued, what had been a local story of isolated homicides got national traction and was sensationalised by the newspapers.[‘History’, loc.cit.]. Some historians, in particular Altina Waller, have argued that the myth-making surrounding the ‘feud’ has obscured the realities and significance of the event. Waller’s contention is that the feud lasted only twelve years – from the hog episode to the sentencing of the Hatfields. [AL Waller, Feuds, Hatfields, McCoys and Social Change in Appalachia,1860-1900, (1988)].
Advocates for the Appalachian region tend to view the Hatfield-McCoy feud (as depicted by the press) as part of the widespread stereotyping of the entire mountain region [West Virginia Archives and History,, ‘Time Trail, West Virginia’ (1998), www.wvculture.org]. The negativity of the story and the focus on it by external mechanisms of popular culture is seen by many locals in Pike and Mingo counties (where the events took place) and the wider region as another example of the outside’s “Appalachia bashing”✥.
Matewan (WV) wall illustration: ⬆ depicting the Hatfield-McCoy feud
Economic underpinnings of the feud
The feud at its height was a deeply personal one for both families, however an underlying factor in the hostilities was the depressed economic situation in Appalachia at the time. Resentment of Devil Anse Hatfield’s success as a timber merchant (contrasted with the less sanguine fortunes of the McCoys) no doubt played a part in the inter-family tensions. Given the McCoys’ struggle to make a go of farming their land, the incident of the stolen hog (from their perspective) was a serious economic setback for the family. Another player and prime mover behind the conflict was McCoy cousin Perry Cline, who hated Devil Anse and the Hatfields as much as any of the McCoys. Cline was sued by Devil Anse for allegedly cutting timber on Hatfield land. Devil Anse won the judgement and was awarded as damages all of Cline’s virgin West Virginian land (5,000 acres). From that point on, Cline, a lawyer, believing he had been robbed of his rightful property, unwaveringly pursued the Hatfields using his political connections in Kentucky. Cline’s actions, spurred on by the desire to payback Devil Anse Hatfield, helped revive and prolong the feud [AL Waller, ‘Hatfield-McCoy: Economic motives fuelled feud that tarred region’s image’, Lexington Herald Leader, 30-Jul-2012, www.kentucky.com].
Footnote: Rampant flourishing commercialism
The famous feud is long-buried but not forgotten in the Tug Fork and Big Sandy River valleys. The opportunity for commercial advantage from the McCoys and Hatfields’ past remains alive…tourism of the area is well-served by the “Hatfield and McCoy Historical Site Restoration”. In the 21st century reunion festivals and marathons (“no feudin’, just runnin'”) have taken place. More crassly opportunistic was the appearance of descendants of the two families as contestants on the TV panel show ‘Family Feud’ in 1979 [‘Hatfield-McCoy feuds’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
PostScript: The ‘Sheep Wars’
The Hatfield-McCoy feud is not the only protracted inter-clan feud in American history, just the most famous. Arizona’s version of Hatfield v. McCoy was the Pleasant Valley Feud (AKA the ‘Tonto Range War’) which pitted the Grahams’ against the Tewksburys’ in the 1880s and ’90s…the Arizona-based feud was the classic “grazing war” of cattle-men versus sheep-herders, a recurring source of conflict in much of the ‘Old West’ [‘Arizona’s Pleasant Valley War’, www.legandsofamerica.com].
Ya-hooo! The Ad-men milking the stereotype for all its worth…
✱ the preceding blog, ‘Ma and Pa Kettle on the Farm Again: Hillbilly Stereotypes in Film and Television’ touched on films based on the McCoy and Hatfield saga. Even in mainstream product advertising, the overly hirsute, “Moonshine-crazed”, “gun-toting” hillbilly trope permeates, eg. PepsiCo’s “Mountain Dew” soft drink
✦ the subject of a 1949 Hollywood B-movie (Roseanna McCoy) which largely fictionalised the cross-clan romance – New York Times‘ short-hand summation of the movie was “feudin’, fussin’ and lovin'”. The real Johnse later dumped Roseanna for another McCoy, her cousin Nancy who he married
✥ part of a whole litany of complaints by Appalachians about how they are portrayed in the media, in film and TV, by Democrat politicians in the big cities
Hillbilly (noun) informal, chiefly derogatory: an unsophisticated country person [Oxford Dictionary of English]. Etymology: unknown, however the explanation favoured by Anthony Harkins is persuasive if not definitive – coming from the melding of “hill-fort” with “billie” (friend or companion) by Scottish highlanders [‘Hillbillies’, Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture,www.encyclopediaofarkansashistoryandculture.net✱]
☋☊☋☊☋☊☋☊☋☊☋☊
The title of this blog references a popular 1950s movie series which neatly encapsulates the essence of the negative stereotypes of the ‘hillbilly’ conveyed through cinema and television that the jaundiced eye of Hollywood has delighted in perpetuating over the decades – in the name of humour. “Ma and Pa Kettle” are two impoverished and uneducated but headstrong back-country bumpkins on a dilapidated wreck of a farm with 16 mostly out-of-control children (“Hen-pecked” ‘Pa’ is slow-thinking and pathologically indolent, singularly dedicated to the pursuit of the avoidance of any work; ‘Ma’ is a large and loudly haranguing woman and only one cog brighter than her not-intellectually-overburdened husband!). The characters made their visual debut in a 1949 movie The Egg and I (based on a novel by Betty McDonald) in supporting parts but proved so popular that Universal Studios elevated them to leads which segued into nine more films with titles like Ma and Pa Kettle Go to Town, Ma and Pa Kettle at the Fair and Ma and Pa Kettle at Waikiki⌑.
In popular currency the notion of the hillbilly has an overwhelmingly pejorative connotation anywhere within the reach of American culture (ie, everywhere!), especially as a topic of discussion or comment outside the American South. The stereotype is deeply embedded in and has been perpetuated through the agency of American popular culture – in literature, there have been long-running hillbilly comic strips ridiculing country folk as basically “dumber than dumb”, especially seen in ‘Li’l Abner’ and ‘Snuffy Smith’ (at left). But the idea of hillbillies as backward, ornery and all the other negative connotations associated with them, has been nowhere more pervasive than on the celluloid screen, both big and small.
The Southern Appalachians⬇️ ️️The perception given by popular cinema and television comedy is that hillbillies can be found in a loosely defined geographical region somewhere in the American South. If need arises in a storyline to pinpoint their location more precisely, screenwriters will tend to locate them in mountainous areas, and if named it will usually be in one of two southern physiographic regions, either the Ozarks (extending over parts of Arkansas, Mississippi, Oklahoma and Kansas) or the massive Appalachians (several systems of mountains but usually “Appalachian hillbillies” are depicted as coming from Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia and West Virginia, and (parts of) Ohio)✥.The Ozarks (“Hillibilly haven”)⬆️
The hillbilly tropeHollywood, from the pioneering days of the film industry, has been happy to resort to negative stereotypes of the hillbilly. The early film emphasis was on showing the hillbilly as an agent of violence and social menace, as degenerates and outcasts, only after WWII do we start to see hillbillies as a screen vehicle for innocuous farce and comic effect with the advent of Ma and Pa Kettle and the TV comedies that followed in the Sixties [A Harkins, Hillbilly: A Cultural History of an American Icon, (2005)]. The motion pictures’ use of a hillbilly trope can be seen in films as far back as the 1904 silent The Moonshiner…in fact the story of the hillbilly clandestinely making ‘moonshine’ in the backwaters while evading the law has been a much-used trope in movies, recurring for example recently in the Prohibition-era ‘bootlegging’ flick Lawless (2012) [‘Portraying Appalachia: How the Movies Can Get it Wrong’, (Tom Porter), Bowdoin News Archive, 09-Jun-2017, www.community.bowdoin.edu
The South is “a different country”: More audience fodder for HollywoodIn the television age Hollywood’s “go-to” take on hillbillies typically utilises the persona for pure comic intent, mercilessly exposing and ridiculing the (usually) working class hillbilly for his or her wilful ignorance, lack of education and sophistication, depicting him or her as “pre-modern and ignorant hillbillies” (in Anthony Harkins’ words) to create, “one of the more lasting and pervasive images in American popular iconography” [Harkins, op.cit.]. Given that areas like Appalachia with its coal-dependent economy are cyclically prone to recurrent “booms and busts”, poverty is a familiar reality for very many of those residing in such places, accordingly Hollywood has traditionally seen hillbillies as soft targets, comfortable in showing up their unworldliness and illiteracy for a laugh…the Beverly Hillbillies of that popular American TV comedy of the same name are “dirt-poor” until Jed makes a fortuitous discovery on their ‘worthless’ land which transforms the ‘Hicksville’ family into “oil-rich tycoons”.
‘Monstrous mountaineers’ and other ‘psychopaths’The comedic hillbilly has proved a rich source of material for movies and television, but as a variant from time to time Hollywood has also presented a very different, menacing on-screen hillbilly persona – the classic cinematic example of this is perhaps the 1972 Deliverance movie. Deliverance portrays hillbillies as sadistic, lawless types bereft of any semblance of moral compass, ‘inbred’✪ nefarious individuals who commit acts which are both morally and sexually depraved⍍. In hillbilly movies of this type, in place of the benign and fun-loving “Good Ol’ Boys”, are more brooding and sinister Southerners, sometimes isolated loners, psychotic serial-killers and even corrupt sheriffs. Meredith McCarroll, in a study focusing on the Appalachians [Unwhite: Appalachia, Race and Film, (2018)], has identified several distinct tropes of hillbilly movies. McCarroll’s typology includes Monstrous Mountaineer [Deliverance, Wrong Turn (2003), Timber Halls (2007)]; Heroic Highlander [Next of Kin (1982)], Killing Season (2013); Lazy Hillbilly [Our Hospitality (1923), Kentucky Moonshine (1938)]✜.
Where are the “black hillbillies?” “Honorary non-whites?”McCarroll in her just published book focussed on the fact that the hillbillies portrayed in Hollywood movies and television are phenotypically white…the towns of Hillbilly films and TV comedies typically, are uniformly devoid of black people, eg, The Andy Griffith Show/Mayberry, R.F.D. (despite the reality, a concentration of large numbers of African-Americans in the South!?!). Leaving aside the anomalous element of that scenario for a moment, in Unwhite McCarroll argues that the depiction of white hillbillies on the screen – characteristically disparaging – signifies that the TV and film-makers are applying the same kind of negative trope traditionally employed by Hollywood to vilify non-white minority groups (native Americans, Black and Hispanic peoples), as part of the ‘other’ in society [McCarroll, cited in ‘McCarroll’s book debunks myths about Appalachia’, (Lucas Weitzenberg), Bowdoin Orient, 28-Sep-2018, www.bowdoinorient.com].
The 2018 independent documentary Hillbilly (Sarah Rubin and Ashley York) offers a similar critique on the vilification of specifically Appalachian, but of Southern culture generally. Decrying the screen prevalence of negative hillbilly stereotypes (represented as promiscuous, “buffoonish alcoholics” and “trailer trash”), at the same time York and Rubin make a link between those stereotypes and the corporate exploitation of the Appalachian Mountains’ natural resources [‘”Hillbilly” Reclaims Appalachia’s Identity Against Lasting Insidious Stereotypes’, Pop Matters, (Argun Ulgen), 21-Nov-2018, www.popmatters.com; ‘”Hillbilly” explores stereotypes of Appalachia’, Times-Tribune, (Brad Hall), 19-Sep-2018, www.thetimestribune.com].
Escaping to an imagined and idealised SouthHollywood’s hillbilly stereotypes extend to a romanticisation of the hillbilly, often their lives are romanticised as simple and uncomplicated (much as native and Black Americans and Mexicans are!). The hillbilly is shown as backward and quaintly pre-industrial, embodied in the famous river bank scene in Deliverance of hillbillies lazing about with nothing better to do than mindlessly pluck banjos [McCarroll, op.cit.]. Allied to this perception, Hollywood’s hillbilly tropes are a component of “using the South as a foil for modern life”…for Americans living in the Sixties and Seventies it was a confrontational time, full of harsh realities and worrying big issues such as the conflict over the Vietnam War, race riots, poverty and the Cold War. Feeding the viewing public a diet of idyllic and irenic images of Southern harmony, a distorted sense of life not being too serious, provided a palatable form of escapism for Americans in the big cities. So we got shows like The Andy Griffith Show, Petticoat Junction, Green Acres and The Dukes of Hazzard, presenting fictional Southern ‘Hicksville’ towns with names like ‘Mayberry’ and ‘Hooterville’, peopled by harmless hayseed sheriffs and shopkeepers [‘The Weird History of Hillbilly TV’, (Gabe Bullard), www.bittersoutherner.com].
‘Hicksploitation’ reality obsessionIn the age of reality TV saturating our screens, the subject matter of hillbillies has far from abated. The trope has perpetuated itself within this sub-genre of television with a string of titles pitched fairly and squarely at the LCD in society…Swamp People, Moonshiners, Bayou Billionaires, Hillbilly Handfishin’, American Hoggers, and even Lady Hoggers, as well primus inter pares, the much-hyped docu-drama Duck Dynasty. Reality hillbilly shows keep faith with the standard formula, peopled with folk who are not exactly what you’d call cerebral, rather they are raucous, profane, intolerant, “anything goes” ‘rednecks’…so lots of guns around, wild animals of various kinds, ‘Down-South” stills producing copious amounts of “sly grog”, “hunting-and-a-fishing”, excessive facial hair, Confederate flags, lack of respect for authority, etc. Despite the often appalling and sometimes degrading behaviour exhibited in “redneck reality TV”, viewers continue to subscribe in meaningful numbers to this brand of “televisional fare”. Testimony perhaps to the fact that “people will (always) tune in to see themselves on screen or the extremes of another culture” [“‘Redneck’ reality TV is one big ‘Party'”, (Patrick Ryan), USA Today, 09-Dec-2014, www.usatoday.com].
PostScript: “Warring Hillbillies” folkloreOne of the well-trawled narrative sources for hillbilly films and TV programs has been the historical feud between the Hatfield and the McCoy clans (1860s-1890s). The protracted conflict between the two neighbouring mountaineering families, stretching from West Virginia to Kentucky, a part of Appalachian folklore, caught the imagination of Hollywood, providing it with ample material for screen productions over the years. This has included both comedies and dramas, ranging from Abbott and Costello’s farcical Comin’ Round the Mountain to the more recent (2012) Hatfields and McCoy miniseries.[see also the following article – ‘The Much Mooted ‘Hillbilly Wars’ of Appalachia : The McCoy v. Hatfield Feud’]
∇ Ma minus Pa – the Kettles’ swan-song
✱ the Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture points out that the word ‘hillbilly’ is often used interchangeably with several other derogatory epithets – eg, ‘redneck’, ‘white trash’ and ‘cracker’⌑ despite being depicted as quintessential ‘hillbillies’ (as defined by popular culture), Ma and Pa Kettle, both in the original book and in the films live in a rural locale somewhere in Washington state…not Appalachia or the Ozarks or anywhere in the South (although one of the series entries is The Kettles in the Ozarks). Not confining itself to the negative profiling of hillbillies, the Kettle movies delve even deeper into stereotypes with a thorough “hatchet job” on the series’ two dim American ‘Indian’ characters – ‘Crowbar’ and ‘Geoduck’✥ although people labelled as ‘hillbillies’ don’t necessarily have to live in the mountains per se to be thus categorised✪ remember, Elvis made a ‘hillbilly’ movie called Kissin’ Cousins⍍ we see through Hollywood’s lens suggestions of promiscuity, of inbreeding, bestiality, all manner of sexual deviance, attributed to the on-screen hillbilly [Hall, loc.cit]. To balance the negative slant slightly, as Tom Porter notes, on rarer occasions screen depictions do exist which present mountaineers more positively – as rugged and even heroic folk living outside societal norms living independently on their wits (somewhat akin to filmic representations of the “Wild West” prior to the 1970s), Porter, loc.cit.]✜ McCarroll also nominates an infinitely smaller list of “hillbilly movies” which manage, to greater or lesser degree, to avoid the standard stereotypes [eg, Winter’s Bone (2010), Norma Rae (1979), Matewan (1987)]
Felix the cat,
The wonderful, wonderful cat!(Popular theme song lyrics)
↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝
❛ I made the cat and the cat made me! ❜~ Pat Sullivan
↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝
The model for a certain cartoon mouse …
The best part of a decade before Mickey Mouse made his first appearance on a celluloid screen and then went on to establish himself as the international popular culture phenomenon par excellence, there was Felix the Cat. The parentage of Mickey Mouse is not a topic that has generated the same level of controversy as that of Felix, which over the last forty years has been a matter for much impassioned cross-Pacific conjecture.
BF – before Felix…Felix, the anthropomorphic black cat with the massive white eyes and the broadest of broad grins, was not the first animated cat to grace the screens of movie theatres. That honour went to a mouser called Krazy Kat, the conception of cartoonist George Herriman…first appearing as a comic strip character in the New York Evening Journal, Krazy Kat debuted on movie screens in 1916 in a silent short featuring the eponymous cat and his brick-throwing ‘frenemy’ Ignatz Mouse.
Master Tom, prototypeNot long after, Felix had his beginnings in the prototype form of Thomas Cat. In 1917 Australian cartoonist Pat Sullivan produced a short, animated silent film about a black cat, The Tail of Thomas Cat, through his own New York studio. By 1919 ‘Thomas Cat’ had morphed into ‘Master Tom’ in the short Feline Follies. After a follow-up entry (The Musical Mews) again starring Master Tom, Sullivan’s third short of 1919 (Adventures ofFelix the Cat) changed the name of the ‘Tom’ character to the name he would henceforth be universally known as – Felix. Despite the seemingly clear lineage between Thomas Cat and Felix, some American animation historians discredit the connexion, citing Thomas Cat’s non-anthropomorphised nature, the uncertainty of his fur colour, the fact that he loses his tail fighting a rooster without ever being able to recover it (cf. the difference with Felix who can magically transform his tail into other forms) [‘Felix the Cat – McGill CS’, www.cs.mcgill.ca].
The chief animator of Sullivan’s film studio was Otto Messmer, but because of Sullivan’s proprietorial role in the process of animation production it was Sullivan’s name alone that appeared on the credits of films (this was a common business practice in animation at the time), despite Messmer as principal artist conceivably doing a weighty share of the studio’s artwork. After Sullivan’s premature death in 1933 his relatives in Australia took ownership of Felix. It wasn’t until 44 years later, that Messmer in an interview with animation historian John Canemaker belatedly made his claim to have been the originator of the famous feline.
Conflicting stories of Felix’s originSullivan maintained all along that he was the creator – on a visit back to Australia in 1925 he told the Melbourne Argus newspaper that the idea for Felix had come to him when his wife brought a stray cat into Sullivan’s studio one day (as was her wont). On other occasions he said that the inspiration came from a Rudyard Kipling story, ‘The Cat that Walked by Himself’. For the name of his cartoon creation Sullivan explained that he had drawn on his native Antipodes… Australia Felix was a term in use from the 19th century to describe the western districts of the state of Victoria (also later the name of an Australian novel by Henry Handel Richardson). Another source for the cat’s name came from a contemporary fellow cartoonist – appearing in print in 1936 the cartoonist affirmed that Sullivan told him that he derived the name from a black West Indian-born boxer living and fighting in Australia called Peter Felix whom Sullivan was acquainted with (the animator being a big enthusiast of boxing) [Pat Sullivan – I made the cat and the cat made me’,www.vixenmagazine.com].
Messmer by contrast had a wholly different story of Felix’s ‘birth’ and evolution. He recounted to Canemaker for the latter’s 1977 documentary film that because Sullivan’s studio was busy at the time, he (Messmer) went away and by himself at home drew the figure that was to become Felix. He perceived of the mischievous black cat as a kind of animated Charlie Chaplin. Messmer explained that the name “Felix” was thought up by a Paramount Magazine journalist from the Latin words felis (cat) and felix (happy). Canemaker and other contemporary American animation historians have been undisguisedly dismissive of Sullivan’s creative contribution, backing Messmer’s claim, subscribing to the view that Messmer ‘ghosted’ Felix for Sullivan who was preoccupied with his entrepreneurial role (inexhaustibly promoting and marketing Felix to the world)✱.
Contesting FelixNot surprisingly the strongest argument for endorsing Sullivan as Felix’s true creator comes from Australia, the animator-cum-entrepreneur’s homeland. Australian cartoonists, including some who knew Sullivan, have drawn attention to a comment during an interview when he visited Sydney in 1925 (quoted in the local papers): Sullivan stated that his practice was to ‘do the “key drawings” and leave the rest to a staff’ [Vixen Magazine, op.cit.]. Moreover, the Australian Cartoonist Association have argued that the distinctive lettering style of Sullivan can be detected on the Felix artwork, eg, in Feline Follies (Felix’s first incarnation), the lettering used matches examples of Sullivan’s handwriting. Additionally, certain speech bubbles in the short uses expressions and terms which have distinctive Australian usage, especially ” ‘Lo Mum! “. Australian animators, argue that had Otto Messmer conceived and created the prototype Felix film, as he claimed in 1977, he would have used the traditional American form of shorthand for mother, ‘mom’ (not ‘mum’) and he would not have dropped the ‘h’ in ‘hello’ which is more characteristically Australian or British◰. [‘Reclaiming Felix the Cat in the Picture Gallery’, (Judy Nelson, Exhibition, 1-May to 7-Aug 2005, State Library of NSW, Sydney),www.pandora.nla.gov.au]
Animator Ub Iwerks drawing animated rodent extraordinaire, M Mouse ▶
Sublime collaborationsWhether it was Messmer or Sullivan who was the true creator of Felix we may never know for sure, given that the episode occurred around 100 years ago and both claimants have been long dead. For a very long time the reflected glory for the creation of the animal superstar even more famous than Felix, Mickey Mouse, was almost exclusively falling on Walt Disney. Only in a relatively recent period, historically speaking, has the role of animator Ub Iwerks been properly acknowledged. Today even the Disney Corporation (metonymically known as the Mouse House), more or less unequivocally recognises Iwerks as the real creator of the mouse. But this doesn’t diminish Walt’s integral role from the origin point in developing Mickey’s personality and traits (not to mention the story lines). Similarly with Sullivan and Messmer, the fairest course may be to attribute causation, Felix’s genesis and transformation to the screen, to what was quintessentially a collaborative effort between two creative individuals.
PostScript A: Felix, a template worth copyingOne green-eyed embryonic animator in the US in the mid-Twenties very much aware of Felix’s ascending star was Walt Disney. Disney’s earliest innovation in the field was his Alice Comedies where he inserted a human figure “Alice of Wonderland” into an animated landscape. As foil to Alice, the main animated figure in these shorts was Julius, a cat with a particularly strong resemblance to Felix…basically a clone of Felix [‘Felix the Cat’, (Ian Gordon), St James Encyclopaedia of Popular Culture (2002)]. Disney’s later followed up Julius with Oswald the Lucky Rabbit (a product he ultimately lost creative control of) and then lucked in again, hitting the jackpot with Mickey Mouse…Oswald and Mickey were both different animals to Felix but again the physical similarities to the (original) Felix are there – albeit with reshaped faces and ears.
PostScript B: Felix, the image de jour to launch a new mediumFelix with his funny, all-too-fallible anthropomorphic ways (fond of a drink or two in ‘speakeasies’, given to making whoopee and his general hijinks and manic spurts in surrealistic situations)✪ suited the “Jazz Age” to a tee! [Michael Cart, ‘The Cat with the Killer Personality’, New York Times, 31-Mar-1991, www.nytimes.com]. Capitalising on Felix’s success on the big screen (upward of 150 animated shorts made in the 1920s), Sullivan introduced a comic strip version of Felix in 1923 (syndicated by King Features 1923-1967). Everyone wanted a piece of the famous celluloid feline, the US Navy’s Bombing Squadron adopted Felix as its insignia, his countenance was used as the logo for car dealerships, he was the mascot for the New York Yankees at one time and for many high schools [‘Felix the Cat’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. The universal appeal of Felix made him the prime candidate to introduce television to Americans…in 1928 broadcaster RCA choose a papier-mâché doll of Felix as THE image for testing the new technology [‘The First Star of Television’, MZTV Museum, www.mztv.com].
PostScript C: A marketing bonanza
Felix as a commodity had an electrifying impact on the world of celebrity merchandising in the 1920s – the iconic image of the black cat popped up on toys, dolls, ceramics, postcards, cigarette cards, jigsaw puzzles, clothing, pencils, sheet music and so on (earning Sullivan an estimated $100,000 a year) [Dictionary of Sydney staff writer, Felix the cat, Dictionary of Sydney, 2008, http://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/felix-the-cat, viewed 6th Oct 2018]
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌✱ the generally accepted view of Sullivan’s character and behaviour, which was very far from exemplary, seems to have jaundiced the opinion held by some commentators (particularly Canemaker) as to the merits of the Australian animator’s achievements
◰ as Nelson et al have argued, these discrepancies in the case for Messmer have not been accounted for satisfactorily by American animation historians including Canemaker✪ this said, Felix could also be contemplative at times, deep in thought, working things out, solving problems…a cat for all seasons!
The earliest tales of traditional Middle Eastern folk tales, commonly subsumed under the umbrella title of One Thousand and One Nights or The Arabian Nights are thought to have have come from the Indian Sub-continent and Persia. The collection was built upon in piecemeal fashion in other Islamic lands throughout the Ottoman Empire, then at some point the compiled stories were translated into Arabic under the title Alf Layla wa-layla (or The Thousand Nights) [‘One Thousand and One Nights’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
The Arabian tales reached Western audiences in book form and ultimately the (English language) cinema courtesy of the work of many western scholars over many years – of which British explorer and orientalist Sir Richard Burton was but one important contributor, not to overlook the work of Henry Torrens the first translator of the 1001 Nights from Arabic to English⊙.
Hollywood first visited the “Arabian Nights” world for subject matter early on during the silent era…including the related fascination with Rudolph Valentino’s The Sheik character, but it wasn’t until the 1940s that it became a regular feature of Hollywood cinema✳. By the early 1950s the popularity of the sub-genre had passed its high-water mark and pretty much tapered off after that point. Subsequently Hollywood has shown only sporadic interest in the sub-genre.
‘Sword of Ali Baba’ (1965): Robin Hoodesque Ali
Cinema’s (especially Hollywood’s) harvesting of the “1001 Nights” for script material has been restricted to a handful of the better known stories, predominantly Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, Aladdin’s Magic Lamp and the frame narrative of the storyteller Shahryar and Scheherazade. In typical eclectic Hollywood style, filmmakers have “cherry-picked”, incorporating several of the Arabian Nights story narratives into the same film…with the character of Ali Baba generally given the predictable “Robin Hood” treatment, depicted as a liberator redistributing wealth from the rich to the poor!
1940 British production values
1940, The Thief of Bagdad: The spark for a steady stream of American “Arabian Nights” films♤
The 1940 version of The Thief of Bagdad (made in the UK but distributed internationally by American company United Artists) seemed to be a catalyst for the “Arabian Sands of the Desert” film. Itself a remake the 1924 silent flick with the same title starring Douglas Fairbanks Snr, the 1940 Thief of Bagdad was British made but completed in California because of the disruption of Hitler’s War in Europe. The British Thief of Bagdad had high production values, a big budget and technical innovations…Technicolour and the first significant use of bluescreening in films; elaborate sets and costumes; high calibre acting and top-notch British filmmakers Alexander Korda and Michael Powell.
Low-budget Arabian adventure flicks with a cast of exotics
The box-office and critical success of The Thief of Bagdad provided an impetus to Hollywood studios to try to cash in on its success. Columbia eventually responded with its own Arabian A-picture 1001 Nights (1945) [‘A Thousand and One Nights/1001 Nights’ (1945), www.1000misspenthours.com], but the Forties through to the early Fifties saw a spate of mainly B-flicks on the Arabian Nights theme. In essence these were blatantly escapist romantic/adventures which rehashed Arabian stereotypes through mainstream American eyes (see PostScript). These Middle Eastern adventures provided a new (exotic) setting and new material for studios to feed a public perhaps feeling a bit jaded from a surfeit of Westerns (“cowboys and indians” films). They were also a fresh alternative to the string of World War 2 pictures and historical costume dramas being churned out of Hollywood.
‘Arabian Nights’ (1942)
Universal Pictures in particular took to the sub-genre with gusto, casting exotic types of players to headline these movies, eg, using and re-using the likes of Dominican Republic born Maria Montez, Mysore born Sabu and Vienna born (of Turkish and Czech Jewish origins) Turhen Bey in US Arabian B-pics, starting with Arabian Nights (1942). This three-piece ensemble was always accompanied by the distinctly un-exotic, “All-American hero” Jon Hall! Universal’s approach was usually to alternate their adventure locales – a standard Arabian Nights pic would typically be followed by a “South Seas island adventure” (almost invariably with the same “front four” and with titles such as White Savage and Cobra Woman) – just in case the punters were getting tired of the studio’s fixation on all those dudes in flowing robes and endless sand hills!
‘Sinbad the Sailor’ (1947): D Fairbanks Jnr doing his best “Errol Flynn impersonation” – Sinbad as romantic swashbuckler!
Many of the top male stars in Hollywood had a stab at playing the swarthy Arabian hero role during the sub-genre’s heyday…Ronald Colman in Kismet (1944); Douglas Fairbanks Jnr, following in his illustrious father’s swashbuckling footsteps in RKO’s Sinbad the Sailor (1947); Rock Hudson in The Golden Blade (1953); Jeff Chandler in Flame of Araby (1951); Tony Curtis (teaming up with Piper Laurie always outfitted as a harem girl) in The Prince who was a Thief (1951) and The Son of Ali Baba (1952). On the female lead side, Universal and United Artists gradually moved from using Dominican Montez to Canadian brunette Yvonne De Carlo as its main Arabian princess/heroine in films like The Desert Hawk (1950) and Fort Algiers (1953)◈.
Columbia’s foray into the “Arabian Adventureland”Columbia Pictures maintained a sporadic interest in the sub-genre. It made three adventure features over a 19 year span around the heroic character of Sinbad, each heavily imbued with fantasy elements. In this series comprising The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958), The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973) and Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), Sinbad, played by three different actors, all have to confront and triumph over all manner of malevolent mythical creatures (dragons, gigantic birds, supernatural monsters, etc) with the odd, nefarious wizard or grand vizier thrown in along the hero’s journey.
“Arabian Nights” meets “Sword-and-Sandals”
By around 1960 sword-and-sandal epic films—sometimes called Peplum films—were in vogue especially in Europe (see article ‘Review of The Epic Film’, March 2015 blog). At the centre of the “Sword-and-Sandal” flick was the invincible strongman-hero who would typically flex his massive muscles and battle Greek, Persian, Egyptian, Assyrian or some other despot from a mythical land. In a merging of Classical and Arabian adventure motifs, studios would occasionally reassign their contracted stars of “Peplums” to “1001 Nights” pics…so in the 1961 Italian made Il Ladro Di Bagdad) bodybuilder Steve Reeves trades his Classical Greek white tunic for some robes, a turban and a scimitar!
X-rated ‘Arabian Nights’, the Pasolini Arabesque
Continental “Arabian Nights”
Enthusiasm for Arabian “desert and minaret” films was by no means restricted to Hollywood film sets and the US, nor did the sub-genre entirely disappear after the 1950s. Among the subsequent efforts there was The Conqueror of the Orient, a 1960 Italian adventure flick shot in the De Laurentiis Studios in Rome; Shéhérazade, a 1963 French production with Anna Karina; Captain Sindbad (1963) an independent production starring Guy William’s (better known as TV’s Zorro) was made in Munich. And of course there was the sexed-up, X-rated Continental version of The Arabian Nights (1974) by the always different, always polemical and confronting Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini – the third in his trilogy of takes on the greats books of the world literary canon (following The Decameron and The Canterbury Tales).
Sub-continent Hindi, Bengali and Tamil “Arabian Nights”
Considering that the South Asian Sub-continent played a formative part as an early contributor to the compilation of Arabian folktales, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to learn that Indian cinema had embraced the Arabian Nights sub-genre. The Wadia brothers made Alibaba Aur 40 Chor in Hindi/Urdu in 1954 (remade in 1966 by Homi Wadia). Additional entries from India include Alibabavum 40 Thirudargalum (‘Alibaba and the Forty Thieves’), a 1956 Tamil-language “fantasy-swashbuckler” and a Bengali version of the Ali Baba story, Ali Baba and his Wonderful Lamp (1957).
Mr Magoo’s ‘1001 Arabian Nights’ animated feature
“1001 Nights”, longevity in animation
The one movie genre where the Arabian Nights movie has achieved real staying power and ongoing popularity has been in animated feature films. There has been numerous attempts at telling the Arabian tales through animation on the big screen. In the US, Columbia led the way with its 1959 1001 Arabian Nights, very loosely based on the Arab folktale of Aladdin, but essentially a vehicle for the popular, myopic TV cartoon character Mr Magoo. The big box-office inroads in Arabian Nights animations were made by those that came later… especially the Disney classic, eg, Aladdin (1992), which spawned successful sequels, Aladdin 2: The Return of Jafar (1994) and Aladdin and the King of Thieves (1996). Hanna-Barbera also produced its comic cartoon critters take on “The Book of the 1001 Nights” with Scooby-Doo! in Arabian Nights (1994, made-for-television). Another in the animated category was the Indian/US co-production, Sinbad: Beyond the Veil of Mists (2000).
Aladdin, he of the lamp with remarkable transformative powers, has been well served cinematically in animation features, viz a Soviet (Russian) fantasy version of Volshebnaya lampa Aladdina/Aladdin’s Magic Lamp in 1966; a French version, Aladin et la Lampe Merveilleuse/Aladdin and His Magic Lamp in 1970. There has even been a Japanese manga anime feature on the 1001 Nights theme, Doraemon: Nobita’s Dorarabian Nights (1991).
PostScript: Hollywood’s stereotypical representation of Middle Eastern Muslims
❝(Aladdin) from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam, where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face. It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home.❞
~ opening song from the original theatrical release of Disney’s 1992 Aladdin (due to protests Disney subsequently modified the offending lyrics but kept the ‘barbaric’ reference✤)
The bulk of Hollywood movies like those above have resorted to over-simplified, usually demeaning, representations of Arabs and of the Arab world回. Lebanese-American academic Jack Shaheen pioneered research in this area, unearthing the extent to which Hollywood filmmakers manipulated the images and perpetuated orientalist stereotypes on the screen¤. So, in the typical 1001 Nights movie, we get totally formulaic story-lines which have become an established trope in the trade…the (often eponymous) hero suffers an injustice (imprisonment, exile, etc) at the hands of an evil cabal of usurper sheiks/caliphs (aided and abetted by greedy merchants who covet all the wealth and power for themselves). The princely hero recovers and ultimately overthrow the tyrant/regime, and in the process of course wins the beautiful, entrapped princess!
The Harem Girls’ pool shot in the 1942 film
The films are usually decorated with an obligatory harem of young, gorgeous and seemingly empty-headed girls lounging round doing nothing, occasionally belly-dancing or reclining in a pool (kind of your Arabian equivalent of the bikini girls in the 1960s beach movies). Universal’s Arabian Nights for example is full of sexy, seductive veiled dancers. Not exactly Islamic orthodoxy here! Sightings of the Taj Mahal in the 1942 film also illustrates how Hollywood mangles geography in the Arab World…the same goes for history, many plots involve ahistorical scenarios, eg, in the 2000 Arabian Nights miniseries the 8th century AD narrator recounts stories in which 17th-18th century muskets are in use [Arabian Nights (miniseries), Wikipedia, http://en.m.wiki.org; ‘Veils, Harems and Belly Dancers’, Reclaiming Identity: Dismantling Arab Stereotypes, (Arab American National Museum) www.arabstereotypes.org].The settings for the movies are equally formulaic – bustling bazaars with narrow, crowded alleys full of pickpockets, cardboard palaces that look like flimsy, fake Alhambras. Genies, flying carpets, robotic guards – a scene of frivolous adventure and fantasy. Outside of the city everything is amorphous desert, endless sand hills punctuated by outposts of tents and a caravan of camels❦ [‘Ancient Egypt and Desert Landscapes’, Reclaiming Identity: Dismantling Arab Stereotypes, (Arab American National Museum) www.arabstereotypes.org].
┯┷┯┷┯┷┳┯┷┯┷┯┷┳┯┷┯┷┯┷┳┯┷┯┷┯┷┳┯┷┯┷┯┷┳
⊙ the most popular of the 1001 Nights tales, and the most utilised by movie-makers – the Voyages of Sinbad, Aladdin and his lamp, Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves – were not part of the original collection of stories but were added by the French translator Antoine Galland in the 18th century
✳ I would hesitate to describe the “Arabian Nights” movie as a genre in itself, it would be more correct to call it a sub-genre, in the same way that road films and biopics are sub-genre films. Arabian Nights films are sub-genres, usually of the genre of Adventure or Adventure/Fantasy (occasionally Adventure/Comedy)
♤ Americans insist on the spelling ‘Bagdad’, rather than the traditional Anglo/Commonwealth preference for ‘Baghdad’…just as they prefer ‘Sinbad’ rather than ‘Sindbad’, as it is sometimes rendered
◈ movies such as Fort Algiers also cross-over into related-type territory, the North African Bedouin/French Foreign Legion desert film
✤ the Disney animated version makes a further sin of omission common to cinematic portrayals of the character Aladdin – making him a boy of Arab appearance. One of the few screen adaptations to heed the textual evidence which indicates that Aladdin is a Chinese boy is the 2000 Arabian Nights miniseries, casting a Chinese-American in the role
回 Hollywood has shown itself to be notorious at marginalising “the Other” on-screen, note the very strong parallels between its characterisations of Arabs/Muslims and of Native American ‘Indians’ and Mexicans
¤ Shaheen spent decades scrutinising not just the Arabian Nights movies but all Hollywood films and television that dealt with Arabs and Muslims, concluding that Hollywood depicted Arabs in overwhelmingly negative terms – as bandits, as duplicitous, naive, rapacious and malevolent people of a savage, nomadic race (and after 9/11 in particular, as one-dimensional terrorists) [JG Shaheen, Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilified a People (2001)]
❦ Hollywood productions reinforce the European orientalist construct, as identified by Palestinian scholar Edward Said, reducing the Orient to no more than “a place of romance, exotic beings, haunting memories and landscapes, remarkable experiences”
Cervantes‘ Don Quixote is without peer as the foremost work in Spanish literature…it is considered without question to be the most influential work in the entire Spanish language literary canon❉. The general consensus among authorities in the field is that it was the primary manifestation (first pub. Vol I 1605) of the novel as we understand the development of that emerging literary form.
DQ & Sancho Panza
The Spanish proudly extol Cervantes’ name in the same reverential tone as the English speaking world bestows on Shakespeare. When it came to adaptations of Don Quixote to the cinema screen however, Cervantes’ great novel has not experienced the same good fortune as screen productions of Shakespeare’s greatest plays have had. While the story of the ageing knight-errant’s folly-filled forays in the campo of La Mancha has been a popular source material for the theatre, opera and both the big and small screen, it has not proved a rewarding experience for some of the leading filmmakers! There have been a number of attempts to bring the book to the cinema that have ended either in disarray or as incomplete projects…the mildly suspicious among us might easily convince themselves that the subject of Don Quixote is jinxed!
Disney: the animated feature’s arrested development
One of the early US attempts to produce a film of Don Quixote was as a feature-length cartoon by Walt Disney. The Disney team laboured for six decades commencing in the 1930s to make an animated version of Don Quixote. Studio artist Ferdinand Horvath produced project sketches of the Spanish knight-errant for Disney as early as 1929. Preparatory work for a film project during WWII using concepts inspired by 17th century artistic titan Diego Velázquez was jettisoned after Disney had two commercial failures in a row with Pinocchio and Fantasia in 1940. The studio tried again, several times (1946, 1951, even as recent as the late 1990s). All of the projects were eventually aborted[1]. Don Quixote thus far has evaded all attempts at being ‘Disneyfied’✫.
Orson on the DQ set
Orson’s never-ending project: Less than awesome
Orson Welles’ efforts to make a film of Don Quixote was an incredibly drawn-out saga that failed to bear fruit. Financing (habitually a millstone around Welles’ cervix) was partly to blame but procrastination by the former “boy wonder” director was taken to a new level. Starting off with test footage as early as 1955, Welles was still intermittently working on the unfinished picture (which he described as his “own personal project”) when he died (1985). By which time Welles had 300,000 feet of shot film in the can! Eventually a version completed by a Spanish director saw the light of screen in the 1990s (described as a “Spanish restoration”). However according to James Clarke, the “print (was) impoverished…the film lacked clarity… (and) Welles’ commentary and dialogue was ineffectively dubbed into Spanish”[2].
The jinx again!
Dynamic Hollywood producer of the 1950s, Mike Todd, was riding high on the back of the blockbuster success of the star-studded Around the World in 80 Days. Todd chose “Don Quixote” as the follow-up project to ’80 Days’ based on the Jules Verne novel. Having cast his new, glamour wife Elizabeth Taylor to star in a lavish production of the Cervantes classic, the hard-headed Todd’s plans for “Don Quixote” perished in the airplane crash that took the producer’s life in 1958.
The doco on DQ the disaster movie!
Terry Gilliam, nearly 20 years worth of broken mirrors!
The award for the most ill-fated attempt to bring “Don Quixote” to the screen goes to Monty Python member and film director Terry Gilliam. Gilliam first conceptualised his project in 1991…pre-production got underway seven years later and production itself got rolling in 2000 in Navarre (Spain). Gilliam brought his own, very idiosyncratic take on the Man of La Mancha (very loosely based on the original story). He cast Johnny Depp as a 21st century time-traveller hurled back to engage with the perpetually confused 16th century “windmill-tilter”.
From the start obstacles and setbacks piled on top of each other – flash floods destroyed sets and equipment in the Spanish campo, as a result the filmmakers had problems securing insurance for the production; Jean Rochefort as Quixote took ill and had to leave the set and the movie altogether; it was discovered that one of the film sites was directly below a Spanish Air Force flight path; plus the production was hit with further financial problems – the net outcome was the cessation and cancellation of the production. Gilliam made several subsequent attempts to relaunch the movie, in all there were eight unsuccessful tilts at making “Don Quixote” over a period of 18-19 years with a succession of actors coming and going. In 2002 Gilliam, no doubt with cathartic intent, released a documentary Lost in La Mancha about the trials and tribulations of trying to realise the plagued ‘Quixote’ feature film[3].
Michael Palin was one of many actors lost in transit in the course of making Gilliam’s film!
The indefatigable American Python resurrected the project once more earlier this year with longtime collaborator Jonathan Pryce in the title role. Finally in June of this year Gilliam tweeted, rather sheepishly, that the filming was finally completed…The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is slated for release in 2018[4].
PostScript: ‘Don Quixote’, a mixed track record in the cinema
Notwithstanding the long trail of misfortunes and misadventures that has bedevilled the efforts of the above film-makers to make Don Quixote, it would be misleading to conclude that the subject has been universally cursed. A survey of Don Quixote’s cinematic history on the screen confirms that it has been far from unmakeable. First point to note is that there have been a considerable number of ‘DQ’ films churned out over the decades[5], many of which went through more or less without mishap, or at least with nothing like the obstacles and hurdles in the way of Gilliam and Welles and others.
From across the world of international cinema these productions include the 1957 Russian version filmed in the Crimea (Dir: Grigori Kozintsev); the 1972 Man of La Mancha (a musical/comedy with Peter O’Toole in the lead); a 2000 feature with John Lithgow as the chivalrous but hopelessly misguided hidalgo (country gentleman); Albert Serra’s modernised Spanish version, Honour of the Knights (2006); a 2015 version directed by James Franco’s USC students, Don Quixote: The Ingenuous Gentleman of La Mancha; and believe it or not, a 2007 Spanish/Italian computer animation comedy Donkey Xote (hee-haw!), a light-hearted retelling of the classic story from the perspective of his squire Sancho Panza’s Equus Africanus steed.
___________________________________________________________________
❉ its literary influence goes far beyond the Hispanic world…extending to his English contemporary Shakespeare who is widely thought to have collaborated with John Fletcher on a play (now lost), Cardenio, believed to be based on an episode in the Cervantes novel
✫ Disney still haven’t entirely let it go…the phenomenal box office triumph of the Pirates of the Caribbean series has prompted Disney to engage ‘gun’ screenwriter Billy Ray to write something similar in tone for Don Quixote, ‘Disney Developing a Don Quixote Movie’, (J Kroll) Variety, 13-Oct-2016, www.variety.com
[1] James Clarke, ‘The troubled history of Don Quixote on film’, BFI: Film Forever, 26-Apr-2016, www.bfi.org.uk
[2] ibid. ; ”Don Quixote (unfinished film), Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org
[3] ‘The Man Who Killed Don Quixote’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org; ‘My latest is a disaster movie’, The Guardian, 04-Feb-2001, www.theguardian.com
[4] “Sorry for the long silence…” (@TerryGilliam, tweeted 04-Jun-2017)
[5] in fact the tale of the muddled hidalgo with a penchant for charging at windmills has been a movie subject just about from the first dawn of the moving picture – as early as 1903 a silent film of Don Quixote was made by the French, ‘Don Quixote de La Mancha: DQ and Film’, (Barbara Robinson), USC Libraries (Research Guides), www.libguides.usc.edu
Over recent months Sydney “Pub Tsar” Justin Hemmes’ Merivale Group acquired the Collaroy Hotel on Pittwater Road for a reported $21 million⋇. The hotel (currently closed for renovation) is situated in one of the Northern Beaches’ finest old and best preserved buildings, the Arlington Amusement Hall✦. A hotel since the late 1990s the Arlington’s premises has traded under various names including ‘The Collaroy’ and the ‘Surf Rock Hotel’. Earlier than this the building had housed the Northern Beaches’ first wine bar called ‘1066’. The building also contains the separate Collaroy Beach Club.
(Photo: Northern Beaches Council)
The iconic building with its asymmetrical Federation brick facade has a commercial life story dating back to the First World War. It was built by Herbert Williamson for his wife Christina somewhere between 1915 and 1919. It was officially opened as the Arlington Amusement Hall in 1921 although it had already been used a cinema showing silent feature movies from 1919.
The Collaroy in 2017
At the time of the Arlington’s public opening the local newspaper described it thus: “The hall is situated right on the beach and attached to it are four shops … The hall is commodious, and is approached by a fine vestibule, a stage and dressing rooms and also a gallery add to the comfort of both entertainers and patrons …” Originally the building contained a row of (four) retail shops with attached 1st floor residences. We know that the business enterprises of three of these shops comprised a draper, a chemist and a stationer.
Collaroy, a beachhead prone to sand erosion
Arlington Amusement Hall’s location, built right on to the beachfront has made it and other buildings around it on that side of Pittwater Road susceptible to storm damage. In 1944 huge storms lashing the beach washed away some three metres of the Hall’s foundations. Fortunately the large building was spared the worst of the2016 onslaught when many nearby properties had their frontages, fences and walls uprooted in the massive winter storms…not so fortunate was the Collaroy Beach Club premises affixed to the Arlington Hall/Hotel which lost a balcony in the violent onslaught of savage nature.
The Arlington in the 1920s
PostScript: Collaroy’s other building relic
It is interesting that Arlington Hall started its life as a picture theatre because today when people associate Collaroy with cinema, they think of another old historic building on the opposite side of Pittwater Road – the still operating, independent Collaroy Cinema (trading as ‘United-Cinemas” in conjunction with Avalon and Warriewood cinemas further up the peninsula). Collaroy Cinema, an Art Deco building from the 1930s, with its garish and (to some tastes) sickly blue-painted exterior, stands out from the modern beach shopfronts around it. The Art Deco building retains its elegant design, but its tired, slightly battered appearance representing nearly 80 years of lived-in experience is in stark contrast with the “tender loving care” bestowed on The Arlington. Collaroy Cinema remains one of the relatively few surviving and operating picture houses of its kind in New South Wales.
‘Indy’ picture house in Pittwater Road
Nomenclature: the name of both the suburb and the beach derives from the paddle steamer SS Collaroy which was stranded off the beach for three years in the 19th century (1881-84).
≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍≍
⋇ coming on top of Merivale’s 2016 acquisition of another Northern Beaches’ landmark, the even more historic Newport Arms (rebranded by Hemmes as ‘The Newport’)
✦ Amusement Hall seems to be a bit of a misnomer…rather than being a place where you’d expect to find penny arcade machines and games of fun and luck (the domain of English style seaside piers), these amusement halls, also common in the US in the same era, could simply be large buildings which functioned as multi-purpose community halls
References:
John Morcombe, ‘Arlington Amusement Hall a Collaroy icon for almost a century’, Manly Daily, 31-Oct-2014
‘Collaroy/Narrabeen, Voices from the Past’, Australian Heritage Festival, 01-May-2017, www.nationaltrust.org.au
‘The Collaroy hotel’, Architects Nicholas + Associates, http://anplusa.com/projects/the-collaroy-hotel/
‘Art Deco Cinemas, Picture Palaces and Movie Theaters’, www.decolish.com
The Conqueror (1956) was a doomed film, both cinematically and in terms of its devastating human cost. Its reception critically was abysmal and its performance at the box office was less than mediocre. Reviews for the movie disaster have been consistent in assigning it an unenviable position as one of cinema’s worst ever pictures, one of Hollywood’s greatest “turkeys”¹.
Yahoo!Movies described The Conqueror as “the most toxic movie ever made”…tarnishing the careers of those who appeared in this egregious stinker, especially its star John Wayne, effectively bankrupting RKO Pictures (costing a blown-out $6 million) and contributing to the deaths of an inordinate number of its cast and crew².
John Wayne, faced with the need to fulfil the third and final picture of his contract with RKO, apparently fished the discarded script out of the rubbish bin and convinced the assigned director Dick Powell (who in turn convinced RKO’s owner Howard Hughes) to make the film with Wayne playing the role as Mongol warlord Genghis Khan (a role intended apparently for Marlon Brando). By all accounts Wayne was grossly miscast⋇, interpreting the great Mongol leader as a cowboy (probably an entirely natural notion for the Duke!). The script (by Oscar Millard) was terrible and vacuous as the following inane, awkward samples of the dialogue illustrate:
Temujin: I feel this Tartar wo-man is for me, and my blood says, take her. There are moments for wisdom and moments when I listen to my blood; my blood says, take this Tartar wo-man.
૱…………૱…………૱
Temujin: She is wo-man, Jamuga…MUCH wo-man!
૱…………૱…………૱
Snow Canyon, radioactive movie set
The Conqueror was a patently absurd vehicle by any standard – as an attempt at film art or as a plausible historical reconstruction…but as disastrous as the movie was, it was to have far more serious and far-reaching tragic consequences. Most of the filming took place at Snow Canyon¤ near Saint George in Utah, 130 odd miles from a nuclear test site where the US Government detonated 11 above-ground nuclear explosions in 1953. By the time location filming took place, June-August 1954, winds had shifted the still highly radioactive soil downwind to Snow Canyon. The shooting of the action sequences (in an adventure movie this was most of the film!) necessitated that the performers wallowed in the carcinogenic dust day after day.
The film’s producers (Hughes and Powell) were aware of the proximity of the atomic testing before shooting started but had been assured by the government that the atomic tests posed no risks to public health, a gross deception (self-deception?). Compounding the dilemma, at the end of the location work Hughes ordered that 60 tons of the radioactive reddy-brown dirt from the Snow Canyon site in Utah be carted back to the RKO film set at Culver City for re-takes!
Human Fallout
Consequently, by about 1980 it could be shown that 91 of the 220 individuals who made up the film’s location staff had contracted cancer including its stars Wayne, Susan Haywood, Agnes Moorehead and Pedro Armendáriz (one of Wayne’s sons who had a small part in the movie later also died of cancer). There is no definitive way of proving that the contaminated soil was 100% to blame for the cancer deaths…Wayne had a heavy smoking habit (up to seven packs a day!), as did others in the cast, which could have been a contributing factor to the malignancies⍔. The harmful effects of the area’s radiation however is undeniably part of the explanation for such an aberrant outbreak of disease. Robert Pendleton, professor of biology at the University of Utah, concluded that the toxic fallout of Saint George was of epidemic proportions, that the toll was about three times what might be expected³. In addition it is well documented that health checks on ordinary residents of Saint George similarly revealed higher incidences of cancer than other comparable areas⁴.
PostScript: Howard Hughes’ own private purgatory
As is well-known, The Conqueror’s Producer Hughes lived as a recluse, (literally) hermetically sealed off from the rest of humanity, for his last years. It is believed that he deeply regretted his decision to go ahead with The Conqueror project. Hughes delayed the film’s theatrical release and attempted to purchase every single print to try to keep it out of the public eye. Part of his penance in his hermit mode of existence, it has been claimed, was to watch and re-watch the disastrous movie every day (along with Ice Station Zebra⁵).
╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼
⋇ Wayne as a 13th century Asiatic warrior was a ludicrous choice, as the casting was overall – only two of the entire performers were of Asian descent. Many of the doomed extras were undisguised Navajo Indians
¤ Howard Hughes thought the rolling red hills would be similar in appearance to the steppes of Mongolia
⍔ although ‘Duke’ Wayne did not die from his lung cancer (which went into remission) but from the subsequent stomach cancer he contracted [Gaggiano, below]
¹ included in H & M Medved & R Dreyfuss’ 1978 The Fifty Worst Films of All Time
² ‘The Conqueror: The story of the most toxic movie in Hollywood history’, (Yahoo!Movies, 09-Nov-2016), www.uk.movies.yahoo.com
³ Pendleton: “…in a group this size you’d expect only 30-some cancers to develop. With 91, I think the tie-in to their exposure on the set of The Conqueror would hold up even in a court of law” – Karen G Jackovich & Mark Sennet, ‘The Children of John Wayne, Susan Hayward and Dick Powell Fear That Fallout Killed Their Parents’, People, originally posted 10-Nov-1980, www.people.com
⁴ Rory Carroll, ‘Hollywood and the downwinders still grapple with nuclear fallout’, The Guardian,, 06-Jun-2015, www.guardian.com
⁵ Greg Caggiano, ‘The Conqueror (1956): The Film That Killed John Wayne … Literally’, Reel to Real, 26-Jul-2010, https://gcaggiano.wordpress.com/2010/07/26/the-conqueror-1956-the-film-that-killed-john-wayne-literally/
Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.
~ Søren Kierkegaard
㊗⎋㊙⎋㊗
On the 17th of this month US film actress with a social conscience Marsha Virginia Hunt turned 100, joining the illustrious company of Olivia de Havilland and Kirk Douglas – a trio of Hollywood film centenarians all still alive! (Libby and the dimpled Kirk both reached their triple figure milestones during 2016).
(Photo: Mansfield News Journal)
Adulation for Marsha’s momentous achievement haven’t reached the stratospheric fanfare, the hype and media attention of Kirk Douglas’ 100th bash last December or of that of another Hollywood mainstay, Bob Hope. Of course it would not be expected, Marsha has never achieved the limelight that those other centenarian luminaries demanded in their Hollywood careers. She was a serious actress but never got the star ‘creds’ that others in the business did☸…but the elusiveness of stardom for Marsha wasn’t down to a shortfall in her acting ability – rather the explanation for this lay in the intervention of external factors which were to impact on her career.
Marsha does Jane Austen
Ms Hunt’s film career from its start in the Thirties looked promising, but in the super-charged, competitive stakes for the glamour female roles she came close without ever quite clasping the big prize…especially in 1939 when she tested impressively for the much sort-after part of Melanie in Gone With The Wind but narrowly lost out to (fellow centenarian) Olivia de Havilland. The following year Hunt did score a supporting role in the prestigious period movie Pride and Prejudice starring Laurence Olivier.
After World War II the grubby, gutter politics of McCarthyism dealt a savage blow to Marsha Hunt’s career…as it did to numerous other Hollywood liberals during that time when it was the fashion de jour in America to go full-throttle after citizens who were merely alleged or implied to be communists (truly a “Dark Age of guilty until proven innocent” witch-hunts!) For a fuller account of Hunt’s story see my earlier blog on this site (June 2014) Marsha Hunt, Lifelong Social Activist: Not your Average Hollywood Role Model.
With her reputation unfairly besmirched (tantamount to no more than implicit guilt by association!), Hunt was punished by being inexorably squeezed out of the Hollywood film mainstream. Potential parts in A-movies disappeared and the public saw her relegated to B-pictures and eventually to television and theatre (few good roles in theatrical movies came her way after 1947, the 1948 film noirRaw Deal and the much later Johnny Got His Gun (1971) were rare exceptions for the Chicago-born actress).
Marsha Hunt today
After being blacklisted by HUAC in 1950 after having made around 50 films since 1935, Hunt only featured in three films during the next eight years [‘Marsha Hunt (actress, born 1917)’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. By the Fifties and Sixties Hunt was finding work only easy to find in television – in a minor-note series Peck’s Bad Girl and in numerous guest roles on Zane Grey Theater, The Twilight Zone and so on ad infinitum.
Marsha Hunt: Life lived forwards…
After her semi-retirement in 1960 Hunt stepped up her active involvement in progressive causes including support for same-sex marriage, ending global poverty, raising awareness of climate change and promoting peace in Third World countries [Memos, Roger C. (October 17, 2014). “Honoring Actress – Activist Marsha Hunt on her 97th Birthday!”. Sherman Oaks, California: Patch.com. Archived from the original on August 10, 2017. Retrieved May 14, 2016]
In a series of interviews last week in honour of her 100th birthday Miss Hunt reflected on her career and on the missed stardom, which seemed to have touched her but only lightly. Hunt merely remarked of her Hollywood years that she was grateful for being allowed to be an actress and show her versatility on the screen✳…or as she put it in her characteristically humble, unassuming way, she is “a grateful girl of 100!” [J Kinser, ‘Marsha Hunt at 100: The Actress Recalls the Blacklist, Film Noir and Being Cast in Gone With a The Wind‘, Movie Maker, 13-Oct-2017, www.moviemaker.com].
JE Smith seems to have summed up the essence of Marsha Hunt and the paradoxes in her movie persona and career fairly well in the title of his interview with the centenarian, “American girl, Un-American woman, upstanding centenarian” [JE Smith, ‘Marsha Hunt: American girl, Un-American woman, upstanding centenarian’, Sight & Sound, 17-Oct-2017,www.bfi.org.uk].
(Source: Alt Film Art)
Once vilified by HUAC along with other progressive Hollywood actors as “Un-American”, Hunt’s longevity and achievements are testimony to all that is good about American society – an authentic patriot but also a defender of freedoms for all citizens – whilst repudiating all that is bad about American society. At the same time we have Hunt’s unceasing activism as a humanitarian concerned for the world as a whole and its future well-being, a tireless advocate for peace and progress, and for a more fair distribution of resources and safeguards for the environment.
๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~๑๑~
☸ IMDB proffers an interesting take on why she never scored the plum roles that other lauded Hollywood female stars were given: “Perhaps her work was not flashy enough, or too subdued, or perhaps her intelligence too often disguised a genuine sex appeal to stand out among the other lovelies” [Marsha Hunt biographical entry, www.imdb.com]
✳ the unstated inference is clear…rather than being factory-made into (an overhyped) star!
The 1939 cinema classic The Wizard of Oz, the movie that launched teenage singer/actress Judy Garland into stardom, has long had a reputation as one of Hollywood’s most ‘cursed’ films.
Book of the iconic 1939 film
Many, many things did go wrong on the set, including costs…the MGM musical/fantasy came in over budget at a cost of $2.8 million. This in part reflects The Wizard of Oz’s disjointed trajectory – going through five directors including King Vidor, George Cukor and Richard Thorpe and 14 screenwriters in the course of the production. The movie’s ultimate director Victor Fleming (who also directed the other great Hollywood film of 1939 Gone With The Wind) was widely suspected of Nazi sympathies.
Judy as Kansas Dot in Oz
The staggeringly appalling treatment of 17-year-old Judy Garland (Dorothy) would today be seen as out-and-out child abuse, irrespective of whether it was within or without the celebrity world. The film-makers half-starved Judy, limiting her to only one square meal per day, fed her on barbiturates and got her fixed on an 80-a-day cigarette habit. Garland eventually spiralled into a tragic pattern of drug dependency and suicide attempts. [E Power, ‘The Wizard of Oz – Dark side of the rainbow’, Irish Examiner, 15-Sept-2014, www.irishexaminer.com].
Equally alarmingly was the casual disregard of the health and well-being of other cast members as well. Buddy Ebsen (later famous as Jed Clampett in TV’s Beverly Hillbillies), to achieve the silver make-up of his character “The Tinman” was coated in aluminium powder which gave him an allergy and got into his lungs, after two weeks he became seriously unwell and was hospitalised and out of the film✳. His replacement Jack Haley was less exposed to deadly toxins but still contracted a troublesome eye-infection.
Fitting out supporting actress Margaret Hamilton for the role as the “The Wicked Witch of the West” meant painting her skin with green copper, exposing her to a clear carcinogenic risk. Even more perilous, in one hazardous scene Hamilton was nearly burned to death when a pyrotechnics feature went horribly wrong…requiring the actress to be hospitalised for a couple of weeks.
The film’s jinx extended to minor players like the munchkins (small colourfully-garmented characters portrayed predominantly by people with the condition dwarfism). The vertically challenged actors were grossly underpaid (‘Toto’, Dorothy’s dog in the movie was paid more than them!) and consequently they got drunk every night and reportedly ran riot on the set. Even Toto didn’t escape a mishap – one of the supporting actors accidentally stepped on him in a scene breaking the mutt’s paw and necessitating a canine replacement.
In the celebrated poppy field scene Dorothy and other characters get saturated in snow flakes, the only problem was the substitute snow comprised sheets of lethal asbestos![Power] Hollywood regularly used 100 percent industrial-grade chrysotile (white asbestos) in films, in White Christmas (1954) Bing Crosby got it poured all over him! Ray Bolger’s “Scarecrow” straw-filled costume was also lined in asbestos in order to be flame-proof [S Kazan, ‘The Wizard of Oz or The Wizard of Lethal Asbestos Exposure?’, (Kazan, McLaine, Satterley &’Greenwood], www.kazanlaw.com].
The curse for a time seemed to continue post-release. Although The Wizard of Oz is universally celebrated today as a classic of the cinema, it did not meet with immediate acclaim from either the public or critics. These reservations did not start to turn around until the CBS television network reintroduced the movie to the wider public in 1956. In 1989 the US Library of Congress nominated The Wizard of Oz as “the most-viewed motion picture on television syndication” [‘The Wizard of Oz (1939 film)’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. Countless scores of viewers of the joyous spectacle of ‘Oz’ over the years would have been blissfully unaware of the unhappy, off-screen events that relentlessly dogged the production.
PostScript: Judy a victim of MGM’s mogul monster
MGM’s systematic abuse and exploitation of Judy Garland emanated from the very top of the studio – MGM head Louis B Mayer. To get the absolute most out of the studio’s new star Garland, Mayer maintained tyrannical control over all aspects of the Wizard of Oz star’s life⌖.
Mayer hooked Garland on a cocktail of drugs, having her fed alternating courses of amphetamines, adrenaline shots and downers like Seconal. And Mayer, to ensure that Judy, away from the studio, kept to the strict diet of coffee, chicken soup and cigs, had a battery of spies reporting back to him on the beleaguered actress’s behaviour [Neil Norman, ‘Dark side of Oz: The exploitation of Judy Garland’, Express, 05-Apr-2010, www.express.co.uk]]
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
✳ Ebsen as a result of exposure to the deleterious materials was required to use a respirator for the remainder of his life (he lived to 95)
⌖ a mistreatment aided and abetted by Judy’s own mother Ethel who mercilessly drove the early show business career of Garland and her sisters, thinking nothing of feeding the three sisters pep pills to cope with the brutal workload she had burdened them with! [Norman]
When I was a kid growing up in the 1950s and 60s I was exposed, like everyone else, to saturation levels of US commercial television. Faced with the novelty of a new and revolutionary form of home entertainment, I clocked up the viewing hours big time, thousands and thousands of hours glued to the “idiot box”. Eventually through trial and (a lot of) error I decided what my favourite American programs were, a few gems among the preponderance of TV dross and mediocrity.
Back then I was particularly fond of old black-and-white movies on TV (until 1975 all Australian television was in black-and-white!). Drilling down even deeper, 1940s and 50’s movie serials were highest on the totem of my juvenile television tastes. I lapped up countless viewings (and re-viewings) of the like of Ma and Pa Kettle, Blondie, Batman, Tarzan, Bowery Boys/Dead End Kids, to barely scratch the surface of my childhood obsession.
As an Antipodean-based “honorary American boy”, a lot of my vicarious existence was channelled through Hollywood’s projection of the typical American teenage/20ish boy. MGM had Andy Hardy (played by that pint-sized bundle of non-stop energy, Mickey Rooney), whilst over at Paramount, the studio eventually tried to counter Andy’s popularity with Henry Aldrich (portrayed initially and briefly by the over-saccharine Jackie Cooper, but universally associated with the perpetually perplexed-looking Jimmy Lydon).
The premise of both these American equivalents to the British “Boys Own” adolescent rites of passage story was the same: the point of the exercise was that both get hare-brained schemes which invariably land them in trouble of some kind, and through a series of comical twists and turns they get out of the predicament by the film’s end…both “got into jams, had romantic vexations, and mischievously interfered in the lives of their older brothers and sisters”, with consequences all of which were at worse ephemeral[1]. The screen rival teenagers Andy and Henry were both likeable even if their screen personalities occasionally irritated you.
Hardy and Aldrich each had his own distinctive and characteristic expressions, these verbal calling cards were often reiterated throughout each movie…Andy Hardy, when in ebullient mood, would chirpily respond to Polly Benedict or to another of his many, simultaneous love interests with “You said it, toots!” Henry Aldrich is universally remembered for the opening exchange with his mother who bellows: “Hen-reeeeeeeeeeeee! Hen-ree Al-drich!”, to which Henry from upstairs would haltingly and tremulously reply, “Com-ing, Mother!”
Once I latched on to Paramount’s counterpoint to the Hardys, the Aldriches, I quickly developed a preference for the new kid on the Hollywood block Henry Aldrich over Andy Hardy. The longer the Andy Hardy/Family sequence went, the more it seemed to wallow in “Gee mum'” sentimentality, with a touch of smug bourgeois self-satisfaction. Andy came from a distinctively middle class American family (his father was a court judge, as the good-intentioned Andy himself aspired to and eventually realised)…Henry seemed more to reside in the world of the working class family, not exactly down-at-heel, but hardly flush with affluence. The Henry movies were a bit more gritty, more down-to-earth and lacking the romanticised and soppy wholesomeness of the Hardy Family sagas.
The first Andy Hardy film was released in 1937, A Family Affair with 15 more following within a decade, plus a less successful ‘reunion’ film in 1958 focusing on Andy’s return, full circle, to Carvel to take up his father’s old judicial post. The character of Henry Aldrich first surfaced in a Broadway play What a Life in 1938 (playwright: Clifford Goldsmith)…from there in span off into fourteen years of very popular radio (1939-53), four years of television (1949-53), a series of ten movies, and an uncountable number of comic books, musical scores, pin-ups, games, and toys.
The lower-budgeted Aldrich movies (11 in all) never reached anywhere near the lofty heights of the Hardy films, neither in the returns from the box office or in the esteem of cinema critics✳. Henry Aldrich movies were either ignored by critics or dismissed as inferior B-movies, merely larks and juvenile fun…contrasting sharply with the symbolic status afforded the Hardy series by MGM, the cinematic embodiment of the “Stars and Stripes”, of “America”[2].
‘Henry Aldrich Haunts a House!’ (1943)
Jeffrey Dennis notes how the respective imaginary ‘worlds’ Andy and Henry inhabit sit poles apart. Carvel, the Hardy home town supposedly in small town Idaho, is comfortably ensconced in Middle American suburbia, a peaceful and harmonious realm in which the war (WWII) does not enter. Carvel and the Hardys represent an idyllic family lifestyle, with the films’ message a somewhat preachy reinforcement of solid and wholesome American values[3]. Against the stark realities of the Depression and the drift into global war, fictional Carvel offered the American public a chance to indulge in “feel-good” escapist diversions.
Henry’s home town Centerville, by contrast (located in an unidentified state) is a more grim, dark and even foreboding setting. Reminders of the war constantly swirl around the world of Henry and the Aldrich family and that of he and his best pal Dizzy (in the form of war bonds, war relief funds, rationing, air-raid drills)[4].’
Both boys regularly get themselves embroiled in injudicious teenage troubles but Henry Aldrich’s conundrums have the more serious consequences…whilst Andy at his incautious worse may be “fined for driving without a licence, but Henry is threatened with prison, juvenile hall, and a mental asylum”[5]. And Hardy’s often foolish escapades, unlike Aldrich’s, never amount to life-threatening situations.
Aldrich (Lydon) with his buddy Dizzy (Charles Smith)
Critics have also drawn attention to differences in how each screen teenager viewed the perennial adolescent boy issue of “girl trouble”. Whilst the easily love-struck Andy Hardy was unequivocally a dedicated girl-chaser most of the time, Henry Aldrich expressed a more ambivalent attitude towards the fairer sex: “Wimmen – they bore me!”, Henry exclaims in Henry Aldrich Gets Glamour[6]. Teenage Henry is reticence or seemingly indifferent to girls, preferring to spend time messing about with best mate Dizzy. Rather than being a manifestation of latent homosexuality, Henry with his simplified approach to life, most of the time just finds girls too complicated, not worth all the fuss and bother.
American youth in the Andy Hardy and Henry Aldrich films were depicted humorously, often with affectionate nostalgia and occasionally condescendingly. At the same time, both series revolving round the comical misadventures of American teenage boys were a window on the beginnings of a distinct adolescent sub-culture[7], which would take further shape in the years following WWII with the “Rebel Without a Cause” youth generation.
✳ in 1939 Mickey Rooney was the number one box office star in American films, a position he retained for the following three years, Source: ‘Top Box Office Stars: 1932-1939 (Part 1)’, (Classic Film Guru), https://classicfilmguru.wordpress.com/2013/08/08/the-box-office-stars-1932-to-1939-part-1/
[1] RJ Bresler, Us Vs Them: American Political and Cultural Conflict from WWII to Watergate (2000)
[2] JP Dennis, We Boys Together: Teenagers in Love Before Girl-craziness (2007)
[3] in 1943 the film series was awarded a special Oscar for “achievement in portraying the American way of life”, Timothy Shary, Teen Movies: American Youth on Screen” (2005)
[4] Dennis, op.cit.
[5] ibid.
[6] RB Armstrong & MW Armstrong, Encyclopedia of Film Themes, Settings and Series (2009)
[7] PC Rollins, The Columbia Companion to American History on Film: How the Movies Have Portrayed the American Past (2004)
Where the Gainsborough Pictures/Islington Studios once stood (in Hoxton, North London), today sits blocks of luxury flats built in 2004. As a token gesture the name ‘Gainsborough’ remains on the units’ facade but the only other indicator that it is the site of a former film studio is a 6.5m high courtyard sculpture of Alfred Hitchcock whose first exposure to the movie industry was at Islington … the work of art enigmatically depicting ‘Hitch’ as a gigantic head❈.
In the course of the twentieth century, the site, when it wasn’t a centre of feature film production, had something of a checkered existence. The original building started off as an electrical power station for the East London rail line, circa 1900. When Gainsborough Pictures’ film production ended there around 1949, the premises had a broad range of commercial and community incarnations for the rest of the century, including being a whiskey store, a carpet warehouse and an avant-garde theatre[1]. By the time it was chosen as a site for the apartments that occupy it today, the surviving buildings had taken on a very derelict appearance.
ref=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/image-1.jpg”> Gainsborough Studios, Hoxton, N1 (Photo: Patrick George Callaghan)[/ca
The film company’s story at Hoxton/Islington began just after the Great War when the American movie giant Famous Players-Lasky acquired it in 1919 for its British production arm. Lasky refurbed the run-down power plant, turning it into state-of-the-art film studios. Islington, with the most technical advanced studios in the UK, was also Britain’s most iconic film studios. Features included a scene dock, a large tank for filming underwater scenes and an anti-fog heating system (indispensable for notoriously foggy London). Such super-de luxe facilities earned Islington Studios nicknames like “Hollywood by the Canal” and “Los Islington” [2].
Cutts and Hitchcock: Islington Silents
Islington Studios commenced making films in 1920 … the creative figure most associated with the studio’s early silent productions was Graham Cutts, who directed a string of 1920s Gainsborough films – of these the most acclaimed were Women to Women (1923) and The Rat (1925). Cutts was mentor to the young Alfred Hitchcock … ‘Hitch’ got his start at Islington as a writer of signs for movies before rising to become the older director’s assistant in several Cutts films. Fellow director AV Bramble went so far to say of Cutts’ directorial contribution, that Gainsborough Pictures “had been built on the back of his work”[3]. The success of The Rat owed much to its star, Ivor Novello, who was a fan magnet (intentionally cast) in the Rudolf Valentino mould. As 1920s Britain’s most popular matinée idol Novello helped lift the profile (and profit sheet) of Gainsborough Studios.
The Balcon years
The American Lasky company didn’t persist with the London venture, selling the studios to ‘kingpin’ British producer Michael Balcon’s Gainsborough Pictures◙ in 1924. Balcon continued the Hollywood former owner’s practice of importing US stars (such as Mae Marsh and Dorothy Gish) to bolster Gainsborough’s productions, but he also pursued a strategy aimed at competing with the burgeoning American influence in the British industry after the war. Balcon made deals with US and German film companies to allow Islington to distribute and finance its own films⌑. Balcon nurtured Hitchcock’s development as a film-maker, despatching him to Germany to work as an assistant on a UFA film in Berlin. Hitchcock’s German influence was evident in Gainsborough’s The Lodger (1927), the best example of British expressionism in silent films[4].
In 1927 Balcon’s company merged Gainsborough with the larger Gaumont-British film co which operated from its Lime Grove Studios in Shepherd’s Bush (West London). Many Gainsborough Pictures productions were made at Lime Grove (in addition to those made at Islington). Lime Grove Studios produced the ‘quality’ films, whereas the Gainsborough Studio produced mainly ‘B’ movies (especially low-budget crime) and melodramas[5]. The core of Hitchcock’s classic 1930s espionage/mysteries (such as The Man Who Knew Too Much, Sabotage and The 39 Steps) were made by Gaumont at Lime Grove.
Edward Black and the costume melodramas
After Gaumont went into bankruptcy Balcon left Gaumont in 1936 for MGM-British (and later Ealing Studios). Gaumont-British ceased production for several years but Gainsborough was saved by a rescue package put together by CM Woolf and J Arthur Rank (partners of General Film Distributors)[6]. From the late thirties producer Edward Black came to Gaumont/Gainsborough and the subsequent type of productions the studios made reflected Black’s “unerring sense of British popular taste”. One of his earliest successes was with Bank Holiday (1938), directed by Carol Reed and Margaret Lockwood, soon to become Britain’s leading screen actress回. Black used ex-Music Hall performers like Will Hays and Arthur Askey for Islington’s light comedies. Gainsborough Pictures also afforded opportunities to the versatile Launder and Gilliat writer-director team to showcase their collaborative skills.
In the war years following, Black combined with screenwriter RJ Minney to produce a series of costume melodramas at Gainsborough, which have been described as being “visually extravagant and morally ambivalent”. Minney and Black also produced comedies and modern-dress melodramas for Gainsborough … the first and most famous of the Studio’s period costume melodramas was The Man in Grey (1943), a box-office winner with an overtly escapist formula to distract people from the tribulations of the world war[7].
Postwar: Rank and the Boxes
In 1946 the powerful Rank Organisation acquired full control of Gainsborough Pictures, leading to an exodus of its main creative figures, including Black and Minney, and its pre-Rank takeover head of production Maurice Ostrer. J Arthur Rank choose one-time self defined “hack journalist” Sydney Box to head up the Studios’ productions. Box’s collaborators, his wife, writer and director, Muriel and his sister, producer Betty, also came on board[8]. Sydney Box in his time at Gainsborough churned out films at a very steady rate of knots – 36※ all up over three years of managing Gainsborough productions. Under Sydney Box the Studio tackled a mix of genres with a focus on melodramas, thrillers and light comedies[9].
Gainsborough Pictures in the austere economic climate after the war exhibited an interest in ‘social’ films with a topical appeal. Employing the skills he honed as a documentarist, Sydney also commissioned films which explored a range of issues – no doubt with Muriel’s guiding influence. These included child adoption, juvenile delinquency, displaced persons, leisure pursuits. The light comedies, usually with Betty E Box as producer, remained among the most popular of Gainborough’s offerings, eg, Miranda (1948) (a romantic diversion about a mermaid out of her environment), Holiday Camp (1947) (which spawned a light-hearted series of sequels about the Huggett family – the amusing adventures and misadventures of a typical working class London family in the late 1940s (the workman-like cast included 1960s English pop star Petula Clark)[10].
Gainsborough – closing act
J Arthur Rank permanently shut down production at both Hoxton (Gainsborough) and Shepherd’s Bush (Lime Grove) in 1949, apparently because he was unhappy with the performance of both London studios. All films made by Rank Organisation after 1949 were concentrated at Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire[11]. The last feature released under the Gainsborough banner was Trio (1950), an anthology film co-directed by the Islington regular Ken Annakin.
PostScript 1: the Gainsborough logo
All Gainsborough films open with the shot of an elegant, feather-hatted woman in Georgian period costume, enclosed within an ornate oval frame. The woman (portrayed by actress Glennis Lorimer) slowly turns and smiles at the camera, an opening feature as visually distinctive as Rank’s iconic strongman banging the gong. The shot of Lorimer was based on the famous 1785 portrait of Sarah Siddons by Thomas Gainsborough.
PostScript 2: the studio fire traps of the early ‘talkies’
By the advent of sound pictures Gainsborough’s Islington Studios were certainly among the most technologically advanced in Britain … able to adapt scenes into everything from a mad professor’s lab to a railway station to an 18th century manor house to a mermaid’s lair. But the studios at that time were inherently dangerous places – celluloid was highly inflammable, as was carbon arc lights. Sound-proofing studios usually required covering the entire building with thick blankets, which was virtually tantamount to inviting a fire! The Gainsborough Studios burnt to the ground in 1930, and the same fate befell the studios at Twickenham and Elstree. Such was the sense of threat that some studios maintained their own in-house fire brigades[12].
‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿
❈ there is also a plaque on one of the unit complexes commemorating the film studios
◙ the names ‘Islington’ and ‘Gainsborough’ have tended to be used interchangeably in describing the Poole Street studios
⌑ through the vertical integration of the film biz in the UK and elsewhere, Hollywood was maintaining an economic and cultural dominance of the industry
回 other leading 1940s British stars of Gainsborough pictures included Patricia Roc, Phyllis Calvert, James Mason and Stewart Granger
※ this in fact was the target J Arthur Rank had set (12 feature films a year) as a condition of Sydney Box’s appointment
[1] Steve Rose, ‘Where the lady vanished’, The Guardian, (16-Jan-2001), www.theguardian.com
[2] Gary Chapman, London’s Hollywood: The Gainsborough Studio’s Silent Years, (2014); LN Ede, ‘Designing the Silent British Film’, in IQ Hunter, L Porter & J Smith (Eds), Routledge Companion to British Cinema History, (2017)
[3] Rachel Low, The History of British Film: Vol 1V, 1918-1929, (1997)
[4] Geoffrey Macnab, Searching for Stars: Stardom and Screen Acting in British Cinema, (2000)
[5] ‘Gaumont British Picture Corporation Limited’, (The Alfred Hitchcock Wiki), http://the.hitchcock.zone. Often described in the trade as “quota-quickies” (Michael Powell’s term)
[6] Ede, op.cit.
[7] B McFarlane (Ed), The Encyclopedia of British Cinema – Fourth Edition, (2016)
[8] The Boxes started their careers in cinema with Verity Films, making war-time propaganda films and documentaries. Behind-the-camera roles in the industry in those days was very much a “man’s world”, and no easy path to tread for women … especially Muriel (when directing films), Rachel Cooke, ‘Power women of the 1950s: Muriel and Betty Box’, The Guardian, 3-October 2013, www.theguardian.com
[9] A Spicer, Sydney Box, (2006)
[10] ibid.
[11] ‘Gainsborough pictures’, Wikipedia, http://wikipedia.org.
[12] Rose, loc.cit.; Geoffrey Macnab, ‘The death-trap London studio that time forgot: Gainsborough Studios’, The Independent, 24-Jun-1999, www.independent.co.uk
Frank Launder and Sidney Gilliat were two English film-makers who maintained a steadily consistent presence in the British cinema between the 1930s and the 1970s. Launder and Gilliat’s creative contribution to films, whether as writers, directors or producers (or as all three), contributed to over 100 British films in that era, including nearly 40 together as co-writers and producers.
The two co-wrote The Lady Vanishes, a 1938 mystery which was a breakthrough feature for Alfred Hitchcock❈. Interestingly both Launder and Gilliat (hereafter L & G) had their (separate) starts in the film business composing inter-titles (title cards) for silent movies in the late 1920s, the same industry beginnings undertaken by Hitchcock several years earlier. L & G combined their talents behind-the-camera together for the first time from the mid 1930s. The L & G partnership had a flexibility and a particular pattern to it … invariably they would jointly produce films and/or also co-write screenplays (although on other occasions either man would co-write films with various other collaborating screenwriters). But almost with very few exceptions one or the other would direct a specific film singly – this was done apparently to avoid confusing the actors[1].
A versatile¤ and fecund partnership
As well as being prolific contributors to the creation of British films for such a long period, L & G’s film output spanned a range of genres … from thrillers and ‘whodunits’ like Green for Danger (1956) and Secret State (1950) to WWII social-realism films such as Waterloo Road (1944) and Millions Like Us (1943) to romance/adventures like The Blue Lamp (1949) to historical dramas such as Captain Boycott (1947) to farces like The Green Man (1956) and light comedies such as The Happiest Days of Your Life (1950), a precursor to a popular series of movies set in a girls’ boarding school immobilised by riotous juvenile anarchy – starting with The Belles of St Trinian’s (1954) which spawned a string of increasingly predictable sequels.
“Journeymen auteurs?”
The Times of London described the Gilliat/Launder team as “one of the most sparkling writing, directing and producing partnerships in postwar British cinema”[2]. Notwithstanding such praise, L & G’s body of work has tended to be undervalued by the bulk of film critics … at times eliciting back-handed appraisals from critics such as “toilers in the British comic tradition”; (their films at best exhibiting) “unfailing good humour and the occasional brainy prankishness”[3]. Certainly, technical innovation and self-conscious artiness was not Gilliat and Launder’s style, but they never managed to garner anything remotely like the prestige or critical approval that was lavished on other contemporary British film-makers, eg, Powell and Pressburger, Carol Reed or the Boulting brothers. Bruce Babington has attributed this in part to L & G’s ‘reticence’ as film-makers, the way that they declined to project themselves forward and intervene in controversies and debates of the day, unlike say, their contemporaries the Boultings[4].
Enlistment in the production of propaganda vehicles
So closely did the personal film-making styles and interests of the two collaborators align, many people found it hard to distinguish between a Launder-directed picture and one directed by Gilliat … most L & G films tended to resemble the fruits of their combined efforts. Or as Adair and Roddick put it, “it would take a lynx-eyed buff to be able to distinguish one from the other”[5].
The war-time pictures, Millions Like Us and Two Thousand Women can be identified as reflecting in particular Frank Launder’s preoccupation with the portrayal of strong, defiantly independent women[6]. These films were commissioned by the UK Ministry of Information to counter the prevailing low recruitment and morale of women in war-time factory work. Millions Like Us, as Judy Suh has noted, conveyed the “double valence of women as productive workers and domestic symbols of national unity”. L & G’s social-realist films, though propagandist in purpose, posed questions of gender and class whilst depicting the routine of ordinary people at work. The necessities of war-time brought out the conflicting roles and identities of women in such an out-of-the ordinary circumstance, as well as the existence of crossings of class boundaries[7].
St Trini’s girls with their jolly hockey sticks (Ronald Searle cartoon, 1954)
After the war, witty and farcical comedies (albeit slight), were their forte (with the occasional thriller thrown in). Like other high-profile international film-makers L & G had their favourite performers that they liked to work with. L & G got the best performances out of British actors like Alastair Sim, Margaret Rutherford, Joyce Grenfell, Rex Harrison and George Cole. Of these luminaries it was Alastair Sim whose star shined most brightly under the direction of L & G. Sim appeared in at least ten L & G movies and his deliciously roguish star turns as a middle class word-spinning con-man were pure gold. George Cole, who also had a regular gig in the St Trinian’s cycle as the ultra dodgy spiv Flash Harry◘, described working with Gilliat and Launder (and Sim) … to Cole (later himself to find TV fame as consummate, malapropistic con-man ‘Arfur’ Daley in Minder) their films meant:
“Good scripts but terrible money. If Alastair was in the film it was even worse because he got most of it. But they were wonderful people to work with”[8].
‘Pure Hell of St Trinians’ (1960)
In the 1940s Launder and Gilliat formed their own production company, aptly named Individual Pictures, at this time they were contractually engaged by Gainsborough Pictures … in 1958 the partners took charge of the production side of the struggling independent studio British Lion. By the 1960s both the quality and quantity of Gilliat/Launder productions had receded. In 1980 Launder went once more to the St Trinian’s well❃ with yet another sequel, Wildcats of St Trinian’s … unwisely so as the novelty of L & G’s feature films based on Ronald Searle’s charming cartoons of feral schoolgirls had long since lost their appeal.
PostScript: The Charters and Caldicott characters trope – antiquated, old school Englishness
L & G wrote into The Lady Vanishes two minor characters that were to become iconic, background characters in British cinema. Played by actors Basil Radford and Naughton Wayne, the two incidental supporting figures are singleminded cricket enthusiasts—or “cricket tragics” as one recent Australian PM was dubbed—trying to hurry back to England to see the last days of the Manchester test match. The popularity of the characters saw them reappear in other L & G movies (including Night Train to Munich, Millions Like Us and in the 1979 remake of The Lady Vanishes), and in several other non-L & G films, eg, the Boxs’ A Girl in a Million and (appropriately enough) It’s Not Cricket. Charters and Caldicott were also reprised for several radio series, and for a 1985 television series. Charters and Caldicott’s fame also extended to their inclusion in a series of Carreras Cigarette cards in the 1950s.
⏏︎ Charters & Caldicott
The starkly gormless personalities of Charters and Caldicott, a couple of blithering “Colonel Blimpish” snobs, was a comical throwback to a past England with ‘proper’ gentlemanly good manners and standards of dress[9]. Matthew Sweet saw the two blunderers (in their 1938 incarnations against a backdrop of appeasement) as symbols of “a peculiarly British obstinacy in the face of Nazi aggression” in Europe[10]. Their apathetic dispositions and complete lack of perspicacity about the momentous events happening around them also puts one in mind of Tom Stoppard’s two artless and aimless courtiers Rosencrantz and Guildenstern roaming through Elsinore, ‘Everyman’ figures in the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, but even more prosaic!
The L & G team
❈ The Lady Vanishes helped open Hollywood doors for Hitchcock … after ‘Hitch’ completed Jamaica Inn in 1939 (written by Gilliat et al) he set sail for America (for good), inviting Gilliat to join him however the Cheshireman declined the offer, preferring to stay in the smaller and infinitely less lucrative pond that was the British film industry (Babington, 2002)
¤ “Versatility” Gilliat once said, “was always our curse”, but as Gilbert Adair remarked in a 1994 obituary for the film-maker, “it was also their own form of individualism”
◘ Cole as well appeared in nine of L & G’s films
❃ this was twice too often to the well as the preceding Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery (1966) was also a lame effort at rehashing the by now decidedly stale formula
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
[1] although such was the working symbiosis between the two that the non-directing partner would in all likelihood make suggestions for improvements to the designated director where necessary, B Babington, Launder and Gilliat (2002)
[2] quoted in The Age (Melbourne), 08-Jun-1994
[3] G Adair & N Roddick, A Night at the Pictures: Ten Decades of British Film, (1985)
[4] Babington describes Launder and Gilliat as “modest auteurs”, Babington, op.cit.
[5] Adair & Roddick, loc.cit.
[6] ‘Launder and Gilliat’, BFI Screenonline, www.screenonline.org.uk
[7] J Suh, ‘Women, Work, Leisure in British Wartime Documentary Realism’, Literature/Film Quarterly, 40(1), 2012
[8] ‘Obituary: Frank Launder’, The Independent, 24-Feb-1997, www.independent.co.uk
[9] ‘Charters and Caldicott’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org; ‘Charters and Caldicott’, www.chartersandcaldicott.co.uk
[10] M Sweet, ‘Mustard and cress’, The Guardian, 29-Dec-2007, www.theguardian.com
The 1920s was a decade for innovations in communications, as we saw in the earlier related blog “Modern Mass Culture in the 1920s I” which dealt with public radio, the emergence and popularisation of the medium in the US and world-wide. The 1920s also ushered in another form of mass media which would become the most momentous innovation in communications and public entertainment of the century – ‘talking’ motion pictures.
For the last 80 years sound has been integral to world cinema, giving the hitherto silent film an added dimension, building depth into the structure of the storyline. As for its filmic predecessor the silent movie, where are we most likely to see it these days?❈ Commercial screenings of silent era films are rare birds indeed … if we seek them out, we might find them if we’re lucky in an old, suburban Art Deco picture theatre, the initiative of a handful of specialised film societies dedicated to preserving the memory of the lost art form. Or we might catch grainy, monotone snatches of an old silent pix as archaic footage on TV docos. When we do manage to view a silent movie we are often struck by how unrealistic, how stylised they appear today, how over-the-top and melodramatic the acting seems. In the decade-and-a-half up to the late 20s the truth however is that silent films and the star actors of the day had an appeal to their doting audiences that was real and totally captivating.
The Jazz Singer
The advent of talking motion pictures did not come about because of a growing dissatisfaction with silent pictures on the part of film-goers. On the contrary patrons of cinemas were completely happy with the ‘product’, the experience, as it was already. Actually, ‘silent’ movies were not really silent, they had accompanying mood or background music provided by an orchestra or a piano to set the tone of particular scenes. As well, title cards (sometimes called “inter-titles”) were interspersed between shots to advance the story, or to clarify what was happening for the audience. Screen-transfixed audiences would engross themselves in the story action, the emphasis on body language and facial expression by actors to convey strong emotion (emoting ‘feelings’) and meaning. Prior to The Jazz Singer (1927), audiences hadn’t wanted to hear actors talk (or at least they hadn’t expressed such a wish)[1].
The coming of sound
Specific technological challenges needed to be overcome to realise the successful application of sound to film. Amplification had been addressed with developments in the phonograph and the viability of radio transmission facilitating public radio. The hub of the problem was synchronising the action, the visual image, with the sound recordings of spoken dialogue, music and sound effects.
Duelling sound systems
Enter Vitaphone … Vitaphone was an analogue sound-on-disc system developed by Western Electric (a subsidiary of IT & T) in competition with an alternate system devised by RCA/General Electric, which used a sound-on-film method. A number of companies experimented with sound-on-film methods (Fox Movietone, the German company Tri-Ergon, DeForest Phonofilm, RCA Photophone), this ultimately led to the development of a superior and more versatile analogue system to that of the more haphazard dual-processing Vitaphone[2].
↗ Warner Bros Vitaphone production of ‘Don Juan’
Warner Brothers however were committed to the Vitaphone system and utilised it first on the 1926 film Don Juan which had synchronised music and sound effects, but wasn’t a ‘talkie’ (as it contained no spoken dialogue). The followed year they took it a step further with The Jazz Singer , the first (partly) talking movie, which audiences took an instant liking to, especially the presentation of Al Jonson’s songs¤.
Sound movies in, silent films out: an “overnight sensation” which took several years to happenThe Jazz Singer was a calculated gamble by Warner Bros which was in a financially precarious position at the time, but it turned out to be a ‘game-changer’ for the then minnow studio Warners and for cinema’s future as a whole … its positive reception signalled that audiences wanted sound. But this transformation from one type of feature film to another was no sudden event, the process away from profitable silents was a gradual process. First to emulate Warners was 20th Century Fox with its Movietone system, soon the other major studios followed the trail-blazers into sound. The big Hollywood companies tended to play it both ways at first, none of them stopped making silent films straight away. After all, how profitable talkies would become was still to be seen. In the two years following The Jazz Singer ‘s release, the major companies made a mixture of productions – some all-silent, some all-sound and some part-sound movies[3].
The major film companies’ decision to convert to sound, according to Donald Crafton, had mainly to do with power politics in the industry. Paramount and MGM held an oligarchic hold over the industry in the mid 20s, controlling not only the production of its films but the distribution and exhibition of them as well (vertical integration which was what Warners aspired to as well). Warners’ and Fox’s unilateral venture into the talkies was seen as a threat to the big boys’ hegemony and necessitated the majors’ eventual venture into talkies. The other minor studios including RCA and UA which didn’t immediately opt for sound pictures still survived as silent film-makers[4].
∝∝∝∝∝∝
Endnote: The “Big Five” and the “Little Three”
By the 1930s the Hollywood hierarchy, after a series of expansions, mergers and takeovers, had settled into an (unofficial) two-tier industry power structure:
⁍ The Big Five: MGM, Paramount, Fox, Warner Bros, RKO
⁍ The Little Three: Columbia, Universal, UA (United Artists)
∝∝∝∝∝∝
Sound at a price
Various factors acted as a speed bump in the transition to sound movies. There were new financial costs for the industry to take account of. Cinema theatres had to be wired for sound, the cost of which was almost prohibitive – in 1927 only 400 theatres in the US of the multiple thousands were thus connected … by the end of the decade over 40% of the country’s movie theatres had sound systems installed in them[5]. A background factor occurring concurrently with the studios’ efforts to sort out the wrinkles involved in sound pictures was that public radio in the US was still in the process of trying to establish a foothold of its own.
The international language of silent films
The silent cinema had a linguistic universality to it, exporting an American film to a non English-speaking country merely required translating of the credits and title cards. But with sound films this restricted markets for American and English films, and dubbing into the local language was an added expense[6].
↘ Clara Bow
The ‘sound’ of silent stars
From the perspective of the actors, especially those who had established their niche in the silent era, there were formidable challenges to transitioning to the new, sound medium. Acting in sound movies and the whole dynamic was different, they discovered, sometimes to their cost. Actors now had to memorise their lines beforehand, and on set they had to not stray far from the microphones, basically stand still and recite their lines clearly. The voice became THE issue for many established silent stars … a number of Hollywood actors could not make the transition❉. Some with heavy foreign accents like Emil Jannings, Vilma Banky and Pola Negri had voices that sounded harsh, unmelodious and muffled on-screen. Other top silent stars were similarly hamstrung by their voices – John Gilbert sounded weak and squeaky on screen✾, and Clara Bow and Norma Talmadge had flat Brooklyn accents – which didn’t suit their romantic lead personas[7].
Other silent film heavyweights had an instant aversion to the idea of sound films and avoided them, eg, leading silent actress Mary Pickford simply retired from acting rather than change over to sound; Charlie Chaplin, whose craft relied heavily on mime, never really embraced talkies and proceeded to make films only irregularly into the sound era (his Modern Times in 1936 was a film without spoken dialogue). Myrna Loy, an actress who successfully made the transition to sound, has recollected how much silent movies were loved. Fans felt as though that they possessed an ‘intimacy’ with their favourite Hollywood stars. Like many contemporaries Loy believed that the art of pantomime was perfected in the silent film[8].
The new medium hamstrung by technological limitations
The new sound technology transformed how movies were made, the ambience on the set completely shifted in a manner directors found inhibiting. Directors, accustomed to shouting directions to actors whilst scenes were being filmed, were hushed up by sound technicians who now in effect called the shots, demanding silence on the set so that incidental noises didn’t interfere with the recording of dialogue❦. Not only did directors feel that sound imposed a break on their free rein over the set, but the movie studio heads felt a similar loss of the financial control of their pictures … sound film production required a huge capital outlay of studios which meant that producers and moguls couldn’t keep the same tight budgetary holds on film expenditure as they previously had[9].
Directors weren’t the only movie personnel affected by sound. Projectionists at the back of the theatre had their work doubled, now having also to operate phonographs as well as projectors during screenings … the projectionist needed to be ever alert as the equipment had a tendency to jump around and result in a loss of synchronicity between image and sound. Again technological breakthroughs eventually came to the rescue after a new type of film was invented allowing for the sound to be recorded directly onto the film itself[10].
Paramount Studios
The take-up of sound films spelled bad news for a myriad of theatre musicians … the silent era had been a fruitful source of employment for them, but once movie houses had installed sound systems their services were no longer needed. On the other side of the coin, talking pictures required fully fleshed-out screenplays and the coming of sound was a boon for scriptwriters![11]
The early sound equipment was an impediment to the filming of action scenes. To avoid the camera noise being picked up by the sound recorder, the cameraman had to be ‘quarantined’ off in a stationary box to the side. Bereft of the freedom of movement enjoyed in silent movie-making, talkies became just that, static scenes in which characters stood round talking to each other (derisively referred to by some as “tea cup dramas”). The lost spectacle of the silents’ scenes of fast-action adventure caused disquiet among the audiences of early talkies. Within a few years this problem was overcome with the creation of new, quiet cameras[12].
For a section of the viewing audience who had enjoyed silent movies, the coming of sound to the cinemas created a new, consequential problem. Talking films per se excluded movie-goers who were deaf or had hearing issues. Some theatres tried to compensate for this by providing special headphones, but these were not fully effective and were of no help to those people who were completely deaf[13].
In time all of the problems and obstacles that came with the emergence of talkies were more or less ironed out … by 1930 the film-going public had voted resoundingly in favour of sound movies at the box-office – audiences at US picture theatres by 1929 had hit 90 million per week, up from an average of 50 million per week in 1920[14].
PostScript 1: Silent film stars – the ‘superstar’ sui generis thesis
The prestige and kudos of Hollywood movie stars circa 1920 was at an unparalleled high in American society. The personas of silent movie stars often came to take on a “godlike” status. As Jeanine Bassinger describes it, the film star of the early 1920s had a “level of adulation that simply had not existed before movies were invented”[15]. The leading silent stars like Douglas Fairbanks, Buster Keaton, Chaplin and Pickford, were uniquely celebrated and adored by the public to a level not achieved by later film stars even in the “Golden Age of Hollywood”. The silent stars of the screen were modern society’s first superstars, they did not have to compete for the public’s affections as the later sound film actors did. They were no pop or rock stars in the 1920s to share the limelight with … similarly, stars of spectator sports in America were very much still a phenomenon in the making[16].
And yes there were celebrities and high achievers in the performing arts prior to the advent of motion pictures – standout performers from theatre, vaudeville, opera and burlesque – but these stars were never remotely on anything like the (global) scale of silent film stars, who engendered mass adulation in their fans felt that they had an intimacy with their favourite screen stars.
PostScript 2: The slow drift toward an international cinema of talkies
This blog has concentrated on the story of the evolution of sound pictures in America – elsewhere things took longer to evolve. Cinemas in Europe were not fully wired for talking pictures till the 1930s, and the USSR and Japan were still making silent films into the mid thirties. Once sound (belatedly) consolidated itself in these overseas film industries, it sparked a surge in the international production of talking pictures in native languages[17].
╼─━┄┅┈┉─━┄┅┈┉─━┄┅┈┉─━┄┅┈┉─━┄┅┈┉─━┄┅┈┉╾
❈ in the sound era only a very select few film-makers have maintained fidelity with the spirit of the silent movie, Jacques Tati is one such throwback whose cinema harks back nostalgically to the silent days of Chaplin and Keaton with its reliance on visual gags interspersed with a modicum of incidental and incoherent dialogue
¤ Warner Brothers’ 1927 sound picture triumph has been attributed to a greatly improved quality of sound in the Vitaphone system, (‘Bob Allen asks… Why the Jazz Singer? … and puts forward a personal theory’, www.web.archive.org)
❉ there were of course a number of established silent movie actors who did successfully make the switch to talkies, including Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford and Laurel and Hardy
✾ in Gilbert’s case new technology did him no favours – his high-pitched voice on film was perhaps made worse by sound adjusters giving his voice too much treble. A suspicion at the time was that the studio deliberately sabotaged the actor because his salary (highest in Hollywood) was costing them too much, (‘Talkie Terror’)
❦ the 1952 film Singing in the Rain accurately captures the shambolic disruption to the profession of film-making brought about by the advent of the talkies … the recent French film The Artist also concerns itself with this subject
[1] E Thompson, ‘A Very Short History of the Transition from Silent to Sound Movies’, (Wonderstruck), (2011), www.wonderstruckthebook.com; ‘Silent Film’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.Wikipedia.org. Two years after the first sound film there was still much negativity about talking pictures, even the premier industry magazine, Variety, opined in 1929 that “movie stars should be screened, not heard”, M Donnelly, ‘The Birth of the “talkies” sounded the death knell for many silent stars’, Daily Telegraph (Syd.), 02-Jul-2016, www.dailytelegraph.com.au
[2] D Hanson, ‘The History of Sound in the Cinema’, (1997), www.cinematechnologymagazine.com
[3] C Gallagher ‘Introduction’ in C Gallagher et al, ‘The Silence After Sound: Hollywood’s Last Silent Movies’, 08-Feb-2009, www.notcoming.com. It became standard practice at this time for production companies to make the same movie in both talking and silent versions
[4] a number of theatres in America did close after the changeover to talkies but Crafton attributes this more to other economic factors, such as increased radio listening and automobile driving, D Crafton, The Talkies: American Cinema’s Transition to Sound, 1926-1931
[5] ‘The History of Film’ (The 1920s – Part 4) (Tim Dirks), (AMC Filmsite), www.filmsite.org
[6] ibid.
[7] the studios employed diction and voice coaches to aid those contract performers struggling with their voices and elocution, although some contemporaries opined that they could have done more to help the actors adjust, J Doyle, ‘Talkie Terror, 1928-1930’, (The Popular History), 19-Oct-2010, www.pophistorydig.com; Thompson, op.cit.
[8] cited in G Flatley interview, 1977, ibid.
[9] ‘Talkie Terror’, loc.cit.
[10] Thompson, op.cit.
[11] ibid.; ‘The Advent of Sound: 1927-1930’, www.cinecollage.net
[12] Thompson, ibid.
[13] ibid.
[14] ‘The Formation of Modern American Mass Culture’, (Digital History), www.digitalhistory.uh.edu
[15] Excerpt from ‘Silent Stars’ (by J Basinger), New York Times (1999), www.nytimes.com
[16] although the 1920s did witness the beginnings of newspaper-‘created’ sports stars, eg, Jack Dempsey and Babe Ruth, ‘Digital History’, loc.cit.
[17] ‘The Advent of Sound: 1927-1930’, loc.cit.
In 1920 the American public was enraptured with the still relatively new medium of film and with the growing phenomenon of movie stars – silent films were all the rage with people from all strata of society. But technological breakthroughs were already opening up new choices for consumers of mainstream entertainment in the US and the wider world.
Early radio days
That same year, 1920, following on the pioneering breakthroughs in Marconi and Tesla and a host of other contributors to the development of radio[1], the first federal licence was granted in the US to radio station KDKA (owned by the Westinghouse Company) in Pittsburgh, Pa. KDKA started with sport, broadcasting prize fights and Major League Baseball.
Early radio activities in the US were intended as a public service, not-for-profit, RCA (Radio Corporation of America) was formed as a government-sanctioned radio monopoly. RCA with David Sarnoff the instrumental figure in the company But with big business (including newspapers) making an investment in the novel form of communication with the singular purpose of making a financial ‘killing’ from it, this was destined eventually to ride roughshod over the altruistic public service function.
Ad for Atwater Kent Receiver
The Corporatisation of radio
Big business interests in the US was taking account of the brand new medium. Corporate America wanted in on the action and was looking for ways to make radio pay¤ … advertising was the key. Radio broadcasting had moved from the pre-1920s phase of inventor/entrepreneurs like de Forest (see below) and Aubrey Fessenden⌻ and amateur operators to profit-conscious organisations in the vanguard. The first radio ad appeared in 1923 on station WEAF in New York. In a familiar pattern of oligarchic business expansion, many of the existing stations coalesced into networks, big players like RCA (later morphing into giant NBC – National Broadcasting) and its rival network, CBS (Columbia Broadcasting System), who were able to secure the top advertising revenue returns on their commercial stations. By 1930 nine out of ten US radio stations were selling advertising time[2].
Table 1 (below) illustrates how the number of US radio stations rose exponentially from a very low base in 1921:
Year
№ of Stations
1921
5
1923
556
1927
681
1940
765
Source: CH Sterling & JM Kittross, Stay Tuned: A History of American Broadcasting (1978)
⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮
Table 2 (below) illustrates a similar growth in the revenue dollar from US radio:
Year
Advertising Revenue of radio stations
1927
$4.8million
1930
$40.5million
1940
$215.6million
Source: CH Sterling & JM Kittross, Stay Tuned: A History of American Broadcasting (1978)
⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮⚮
Federal Communications Commission (emblem)
Chaotic airwaves rule OK!
In the early days reception wasn’t great with the majority of listeners relying on very basic, home-made crystal sets (the eventual advent of amplifying receivers addressed some of the shortcomings). Listeners were blighted by recurring problems with the on air broadcasts … the stations’ frequencies were continually being interrupted by other radio transmitters who would suddenly cut in on them in the middle of a program[3]. Stations regularly ran experimental programs which were a mishmash of hits and misses. The airwaves were a haphazard free-for-all until measures were taken to regulate the industry in 1927 with the Radio Act. The Act empowered the Federal Radio Commission to reallocate radio frequencies into a geographical zonal system with licenses, time of operation, station power and wavelength to be equally allocated. This system however worked less than perfectly[4].
A revolution in home entertainment
Within a few short years the stations got their acts together and with improved technology and more receivers available, the American population embraced the mass media of radio. People would hold invite friends over for “radio parties” in their homes. Teenage and adolescent listeners would tune in and dance to jazz programs (the music de jour of the 20s). Radio quickly became a central part of American lives. From fairly limited offerings at first, eg, music, reading the latest news items✥, sporting broadcasts, stations started to offer quality and variety … radio shows had become the go-to form of entertainment – detective serials, westerns, comedies, romances, children’s shows, were all very popularly received. The soap opera✾ (drama serials containing multiple characters with intertwined, often emotionally fraught lives), the one significant invention of radio, became the staple cultural diet of many listeners[5].
By 1929 radio was reaching 10,000,000 American households. One of the most popular programs was Amos ‘n Andy, a form of audio entertainment which unfortunately also served to disseminate racial and cultural stereotypes (in this case reinforcing a derogatory view of African-Americans). When the phonogram invented earlier by Thomas Edison, was commercialised, the proliferation of record players in homes alongside radio sets gave Americans a “new world” of home entertainment[6].
Other countries in the western world rapidly followed America’s lead in the spread of the AM radio phenomena[7], one that would grip and enthrall listeners world-wide until the commercial introduction of public television in the 50s would eventually assume that mantle of shaping or reshaping mass communications.
“Welles-storm”
PostScript: Radio ‘pyrotechnics’ – the ‘invasion’ of America
There has been no better illustration of the sheer, mind-bending power of radio than enfant terrible and soon-to-be Hollywood directorial luminary Orson Welles’s 1938 broadcast on national radio. Welles’s performance of The War of the Worlds (by Sc-Fi pioneer writer HG Wells) spooked the nation (or at least the one-fifth of the over one million listeners to the program who were thrown into a panic by the calamitous ‘news’!) … the radio audience were fooled into believing that they were hearing a live report of an actual invasion of Earth by spaceship-transported Martians[8].
╼╾╼╾╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾
❈ the involvement of leading newspapers in the new medium was interesting considering that radio early on was promoted as “the newspapers that come through your walls”
¤ the development pattern was different in Europe – in Britain the government agency, BBC (established in 1922) was the guiding light for public radio’s progress
⌻ undertook pioneering work in laying the foundations of AM (amplitude modulation) radio
✥ the delivery of ‘instant’ news through the air waves was a transformation for “Joe and Joan Public” who no longer had to wait to the next day to read about the latest events in their daily newspapers
✾ so named because it was the norm for soap companies to sponsor this type of day and popular evening radio programs (Scott, ‘History of the Radio Industry’)
[1] it would be remiss here not to single out the pioneering contribution of Lee de Forest whose invention of the Audion vacuum tube most possible live radio broadcasting, an amplifier and transmitter which was the “key component of all radio, telephone, radar, film, television and computer systems before the invention of the transistor in 1947” (‘Lee de Forest American Inventor’, Encylopedia Brittannica (RE Fielding),www.brittannica.com
[2] CE Scott, ‘The History of the Radio Industry in the United States to 1940’, www.eh.com
‘History: 1920s’, Advertising Age, 15-Sep-2003, www.adage.com
[3] ‘The growth of radio in the 1920s’, (Mortal Journey), (08-Apr-2011), www.mortaljourney.com; ‘Emergence of Radio in the 1920s and its Cultural Significance’, www.xroads.virginia.org
[4] ‘Federal Radio Commission’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org
[5] Mortal Journey, loc.cit.; ‘The Formation of Modern American Mass Culture’, Digital History, www.digitalhistory.edu; ‘Soap opera’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org
[6] Mortal Journey, op.cit.. Edison’s phonograph paved the way for the eventual development of sound technology for films
[7] later, in the 1930s, advances spearheaded by Edward H Armstrong led to the invention of FM (frequency modulation) radio – which prompted a backlash by Sarnoff and RCA and the breakout of an “AM Vs FM war”, ‘FM broadcasting in the United States’,
Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org
[8] B Lenthall, Radio’s America: the Great Depression and the Rise of Modern Mass Culture. The Story of the Century, (2007), www.press.uchicago.edu
John Clarke: Trail-blazing Parodist, Lodestar, Daggstar
John Morrison Clarke died, most unexpectedly, in the Victorian wilderness a day-and-a-half ago. An ordinary looking man with an ordinary (unremarkable and yet distinctive) voice, but an ‘Everyman’ with a towering gift for communicating parody and travesty with coruscating clarity!
John Clarke, born and raised in Palmerston North, New Zealand, but domicile in Melbourne, Australia, for the last 40 years, was a uniquely talented satirist, TV comedian, comic writer and actor. The word ‘genius’ gets carelessly bandied around way too much these days, but in appraising the oeuvre of Mr John Clarke it finds a true home.
Daggstar completely out of the box
Whilst in New Zealand Clarke developed and refined the character of Fred Dagg, a stereotypical, blunt-speaking farmer from the North Island, with long straggly hair and perpetually clad in a black singlet and gumboots. Fred Dagg got Clark’s idiosyncratic brand of humour into the spotlight of New Zealand television. By 1977 Clark had outgrown both NZ and (so it seemed) Fred Dagg and moved to the bigger canvas of Australia❈. Clarke wasn’t however quite done with Fred Dagg – in Australia Fred resurfaced as a real estate ‘expert’ with his guide for would-be home buyers providing the “good oil” on avoiding the pitfalls inherent in the spiel of property agents – as the following “bullshit-busting” sampler of his trenchant wit testifies:
• a “cottage” is a caravan with the wheels taken off
• “genuine reason for selling” means the house is for sale
• “rarely can we offer” means the house is for sale
• “superbly presented delightful charmer” doesn’t mean anything really, but it’s probably still for sale!
• “privacy, taste, charm, space, freedom, quiet, away from it all location in much sought-after cul-de-sac situation” means that it’s not only built down a hole, it’s built at the very far end of the hole
• “a panoramic, breathtaking, or magnificent view” is an indication that the house has windows, and if the view is “unique”, there’s probably only one window
Fred Dagg AKA John Clarke was no admirer of the realty and property game and the proclivity of estate agents to be “fast and loose with the truth”, and he gave us the following memorable job description of what they really do:
“The function of the agent basically is to add to the price of the article without actually producing anything” (gold!)
(and how to recognise an actual estate agent when you see one)
“If you’ve got gold teeth and laugh-lines around your pockets, you’re through to the semis without dropping a set”.
There was so much to the creative output of Clarke comma J, and so much variety too … screenplays, film acting, radio, stage work, television, songs, books. Clarke’s art didn’t fit into any one particular mould, he was, to use Martin Luther’s expression, an “irregular planet which cannot be fixed among the stars”, always inventing, moving on and reinventing, exploring something new that had piqued his interest.
My personal favourite John Clarke masterwork is the Complete Book of Australian Verse⌖. This nugget of gold is a series of early Nineties recordings in which Clarke audaciously and imaginatively reinvents the “Canon of Great British Poets”, relocating it to regional and outback Australia. Clarke ‘discovered’ the existence of an Aussie poet “laureate-hood” comprising “dinky-di” Australian poetry ‘greats’ with Antipodean-sounding names like ‘Shagger’ Tennyson, ‘Stumpy’ Byron V.C, ‘Gavin’ Milton and “Fifteen Bobsworth” Longfellow⊛.
Clarke’s sublime riff on these fictional masters of Australian poetry is incisively, deeply humorous, and both wise and pretentious-sounding at the same time! Absurdly funny stuff, especially when uttered in John’s wonderful flat, disinterested, monotone voice (“he was sentenced to three years jail for insulting a lobster in a Sydney restaurant”) … Clarke’s clinical dissection of (then) Leader of the Opposition John Howard is a devastatingly savage takedown the future PM…to paraphrase playwright Simon Gray, it “made me laugh so much that I was prepared to overlook its essential cruelty”. Clarke’s poem entreats Howard—who had failed twice to win the top job in Canberra—to change his vocation:
‘To a Howard’ by Rabbi Burns
Wee, sleekit, cowerin, tim’rous beastie,
I know tha’s probably doing thy bestie,
…………………….
Thou’ll try wi’ th’ gunnery up at the range,
Thou’ll no have much truible, thou’ve dun it afore,
Thou’s an expert for a’ that; look, ‘Wanted: Small Bore’.
With ‘A Child’s Christmas in Warrnambool’ Clarke produces a poetic tour de force by turning Dylan Thomas’ classic winter-scene ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’ on it’s head, transforming it into a children’s nostalgic celebration of Australian summers past:
“The smell of insect repellant and eucalyptus and the distant constant bang of the flywire door”/”the fridge of imperishable memory”/”the wide brown bee-humming trout-fit sheep-rich two-horse country”/”some middle-order nephew skipping down the vowel-flattening pitch and putting the ball into the tent-flaps on the first bounce of puberty”.
The Complete Verse‘s eclectic compilation includes a coruscating if excruciatingly painful piece by “Sylvia Blath” which is both riotously funny and disturbingly harrowing at the same time. Clarke weaves into the poem Sylvia’s harangue of her dead father who “danced upon my cradle, as I Annexed the Sedatenland” and ends with an unexpected and wicked twist (a crossed-phone line channelling of Germaine Greer!!!): “Daddy Daddy I’m through, Hello? Germaine … I can hardly hear you, this is a very bad line.”
Since the 1990s Clarke had been an on-screen constant feature with his famous series of mock political interviews (“two-handers” with Bryan Dawe as the straight-man ‘innocently’ asking questions which were fodder for Clarke’s witty retorts) … the one-liners just rolling off Clarke’s golden and acerbic tongue, skewing high-profile politicians left, right and centre:
(pricking at the bluster of an overbearing state premier)
“I’m not interested in doing the most intelligent thing … I’m JEFF KENNETT!
Prime Minister Hawke’s robust “Alpha male”, over-enthusiastic response to the question of how fit he was after a recent op:
(I’m so fit that)
“I’m a danger to shipping!”
Clarke was a wordsmith that other satirists and comic writers in Australasia must have looked at with a mixture of admiration and envy … he simply had such a razor-sharp, punchy, economical and hilarious way with words.
And there was much more to John Clarke’s stellar CV – such as his ‘invention’ of the cliché-ridden ‘sport’ of farnarkeling for The Gillies Report, and not to forget the manifold brilliant riffs on finance, business, the economy, the public service and the environment (“the front fell off (and) we towed the ship outside the environment”). Clarke was a trail-blazer in television comedy … his “on the money” take on the crazy, shambolic world of Olympics bureaucracy The Games was a template for other later projects which explored the thorny terrain of corporations and officialdom (such as Utopia) and it informed the BBC’s contribution to the 2012 London Olympics campaign.
John Clarke’s sudden, most untimely death leaves a Sydney Opera House-sized hole in Australian and New Zealand satire – and I shall never forget that voice – as with Billy Bragg’s, so distinctive, and as with Joe (Dragnet) Friday’s, so deadpan matter-of-fact … or his trademark mischievous grin and the sparkle in the eyes.
⚜⚜⚜
Vale John Clarke … thank you for entertaining and delighting us for so long and enriching the lives of so many people all the way from Palmerston North to Perth and far beyond. John’s song lyrics were wrong in one respect … there are countless people in the two Trans-Tasman countries that he lived and worked in who do know “how lucky” they were to have him, albeit for too short a time✥.
Footnote: I didn’t realise until now that Clarkey was responsible for introducing that quintessentially Australian term “budgie smuggler” into the vernacular lexicon of the nation, to the regret of one former PM (not Howard) and the joy of everyone else!
╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╼
❈ his unusual accent didn’t really fit the clipped English speech pattern of “Nu Zillunders” anyway
⌖ the success of which was followed up by the Even More Complete Book of Australian Verse
⊛ other ‘Oz’ poet-luminaries include b.b.hummings, TS (Tabby Serious) Eliot, Ewen Coleridge, Ted Lear and many more
✥ one of the incomparable Fred Dagg’s best-known songs was entitled “We don’t know how lucky we are”
The establishment by the Russian Empire of a colony in California in the early 19th century was a corollary of the earlier North American colony in Alaska. The inherent deficiencies that surfaced in the operation of the Russian American colony convinced the Russian-American Company that it needed to find new, more propitious outposts in the region that could service Russian America’s needs.
California: Fort Ross
Zealous over-hunting of the prized sea otters by the Russian-American Company et al in Alaska’s waters led the company to seek out new, profitable hunting grounds further south. After some early fur hunting expeditions (1806-11) confirmed the presence of abundant sea otters along New Spain’s Pacific coastline, RAC chief Aleksandr Baranov authorised his assistant Ivan Kuskov to find a suitable location in Northern California and establish a Russian colony.
Fort Ross
The location chosen by the RAC to settle its new colony in 1812 – on the “New Albion” shore to the north of Bodega Bay (today in Sonoma County)❈ – was carefully selected. It was close to but outside of the border that Spain had set as its northern-most jurisdiction (San Francisco). As well as the proximity to plentiful sea otter fields, the Russian-American Company wanted its Californian base to be close enough to facilitate trade with Alta (Upper) California.
(photo: www.fortross.org)
The exact spot picked by Kuskov for the settlement was the site of an Indian village called Meteni by the local Kashaya (Kashia Pomo) tribes. After negotiating the sale of the land with the Pomo[1], Kuskov built RAC’s fortress called Fort Ross (Rus: Фopт-Pocc). The other raison d’être of the Californian colony was to provide an agricultural base for the northern settlements (Alaska had proved too harsh an environment and its climate too raw to supply sufficient quantity or variety for the nutritional needs of its settlers).
Russian stamp commemorating 200th anniversary of founding of Fort Ross
By 1814 Kuskov’s men (which included Aleut natives from Alaska) had planted the beginnings of an orchard, a solitary peach tree, later adding more trees which would eventually yield grapes, apples, cherries, pears, quinces and bergamots. This fresh fruit was to prove important in preventing outbreaks of scurvy which had dogged the early Californian colony[2].
An inhospitable neighbourhood
As things transpired, the emergence of the Russian settlement at Fort Ross did provoke the displeasure of the Las Californias authorities who responded by establishing a new mission station and presido (fort) in the vicinity to check any attempt by RAC to colonise any parts of California further south. Early trade opportunities were impeded by Madrid which forbid its Californian outposts from having commercial transactions with Fort Ross (although a healthy contraband trade did exist)[3]. With the Adams-Onis Treaty (1819) by which the US acknowledged Spain’s claim to all land south of the Oregon country border, Russia was even further squeezed out diplomatically in California¤ (and forced to renounce its own Oregon claim[4]. After Mexico gained its independence from ‘Old’ Spain in 1821 it constructed its own forts (such as the Sonoma Barracks) not far from the Russian Fortress to hem it in[5].
Russian chart – Fort Ross & Bodega Bay
Other drawbacks imperiling the viability of Russia’s Fort Ross colony
A. Otter hunting and shipbuilding
Hostility from Hispanic California and free-spirited westward-roaming American pioneers was not the only issue the Russians at Fort Ross had to contend with. By around 1817 the Californian coastline was displaying the same tell-tale signs of rapid depletion of the much sought-after sea otters that had plagued the Northwest Pacific and turned RAC’s focus southward ten years earlier. Being closer to both the US and Mexico and within the English’s sphere of operations, the competition for pelts in Alta California was even more intense. With the southern colony’s annual otter pelt catch declining every year, RAC tried diversifying its industries. For a while shipbuilding took commercial centre stage at the colony’s port at nearby Rumyartsev Bay … in a productive six years from 1818 six major vessels were built there. Unfortunately the Rumyartsev builders used Tanbark oak, which wasn’t suitable for ocean-going vessels and to make matters worse, seasoned it improperly so that the wood progressively rotted and all the ships were unseaworthy within a few years[6].
B. Ranching and animal husbandry
After the wood rot disaster shipbuilding in the colony ceased and Fort Ross switched his emphasis to agriculture and the development of its animal husbandry. New ranches opened up for stock-raising, especially from the early 1830s, with some success in the production of beef and mutton. A 1841 inventory of livestock at Fort Ross (taken just prior to the colony’s demise) listed 1,700 head of cattle, 940 horses and 900 sheep … indicating some marginal success in ranching – but to put it in perspective this was far behind the herd sizes of livestock achieved by the contemporary Spanish and Mexican Californian ranchers[7].
C. Grain production and other agriculture
RAC’s hope was that a colony in Alta California – with its better soils and pasture lands, plentiful timber and good water supply – would be conducive to productive and consistent yields of produce, and would become the granary for the northern outposts in Alaska. Flawed agricultural methods and planning however meant that this would remain a pipe dream. The colonists failed to rotate their crops and fertilise the fields adequately for arability. The type of farming at the ‘Fortress’ was more that of private plots producing fruit and vegetables for local consumption rather than exporting. The quantities sent north were never sufficient, nor were they consistent in quality. At different periods the Russian colony had to trade its manufactured goods♦ for grain and seed from New Spain, both for the colonists’ use and to ship north to Russian America’s capital, Sitka. From the late 1820s on occasionally there were good crops, but even in the most fecund times Fort Ross could only supply a mere 1/12th of RAC’s needs for Alaska[8].
The Fort Ross colony workforce
The colonists’ division of labour comprised the Russians and Creoles in one group of occupations, guards, overseers, artisans and cooks, and the Aleut men as hunters (Aleut women and other native tribes were allotted the more menial tasks). After the sea otter haul largely disappeared, the Aleut hunters were reassigned to herding and lumbering jobs. The calibre of men Kuskov had at his disposal was problematic … the Russian men were often described as “riff-raff” – the risk of desertion was always a concern and many were suspected of criminal intent. As for the native workers, most brought from Alaska were convicts under punishment for “crimes committed against the colony” and many of the Indians were considerable unreliable[9]. The lack of an ongoing, stable workforce added to the colony’s woes. Quantity as well as quality – a sheer lack of manpower also contributed to Fort Ross’s failure.
Hudson’s Bay Co
Endgame for Krepost’ Ross
The isolated colony struggled on through the 1830s trying to make a go of it commercially, but Fort Ross’ death knoll was sounded when the Russian-American Company signed an agreement with the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) in 1839 … HBC would henceforth supply all provisions required by RAC’s Alaskan outposts[10]. RAC, pulling the plug, tried at first to sell Fort Ross to the Hudson’s Bay Company, and then to the Mexican government, but were unsuccessful in both instances. Consequently Fort Ross’s Governor Rotcher managed to sell the Fortress and all its contents (including a disused schooner in Bodega Bay) to Californian settler pioneer and businessman Johann (John) Sutter for $30,000.
ↂ ↂ ↂ ↂ ↂ
Endnote:
The Russians were only one of several players eyeing off the colonial potentiality of Spanish Alta California. French, American and British visitors all made note of how surprisingly tenuous Madrid’s hold was on the territory [11].
PostScript: Fort Ross – the movie!
Intriguingly in a time witnessing a latent reheating of American/Russian superpower tensions, a Russian film company made a feature film about the Fort Ross colony (released in 2014 presumably as a celebration of the Fort’s 200th anniversary two years earlier). Written by Dimitriy Poletaev, Fort Ross is billed as a historical adventure/action/fantasy movie. I’m more than a little skeptical about how historically accurate it is … though it does contain a character called “Komendant Kuskov”. Basically, the plot revolves around a “Gen Y” journalist who find himself transported back to 1814 Fort Ross, coonskin caps, muskets, otter pelts and everything – courtesy of his malfunctioning iPhone! (the fantasy bit). The time-travelling protagonist finds himself embroiled in various intrigues and adventures and the film gives a few nods to the state of contemporary US/Russian relations. A part of the external footage was filmed at Fort Ross National Park – shots of the Russian River (Slavyanka) and the surrounding countryside – though the producers used the recently renovated original Fort Ross itself as a model to re-create a full-scale replica of the fort in Belarus.
⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸
❈ about 130km northwest of San Francisco Bay
¤ A further blow to morale was that Spain, Mexico, the US and Britain never recognised the legitimacy of Russia’s Fort Ross colony … although in the case of Mexico, it was prepared to do so provided Russia recognised it in return, but the conservative Tsar’s suspicion that the new Republic was a radical regime vetoed that diplomatic breakthrough (Schwartz 1977)
♦ such as barrels, bricks, furniture, soap, etc.
[1] ‘negotiated’ for almost sweet FA according to one account – Kuskov bought the area for a small quantity of clothing, bedding and tools, ‘History of the Russian Settlement at Fort Ross, California’, www.parks.sonoma.net/ross
[2] ‘Historic Orchard at Fort Ross’, Fort Ross Conservancy,www.fortross.org
[3] H Schwartz, ‘Fort Ross California – A Historical Synopsis’, Fort Ross Conservancy‘, (Interpretive Planning Unit, Dept of Parks & Rec, Calif. Feb 1977), http://fortross.org/lib.html
[4] ibid.
[5] ‘History of the Russian Settlement’, Wikipedia, www.wikipedia.n.em.org
[6] ibid.; Schwartz, loc.cit.
[7] Schwartz, loc.cit.
[8] ibid.
[9] AA Istomin, ‘Indians at the Ross Settlement – According to the censuses by Kuskov in 1820 and 1821’, (Fort Ross Interpretive Association, Jul 1992), www.fortross.org
[10] ‘Yukon/Alaska Chronology’, Explore North – An Explorer’s Guide to the North, www.explorenorth.com
[11] Kevin Starr, Americans and the California Dream 1850-1915, (1971)
Throughout the course of Salvador Dalí’s life and career it was increasingly hard to distinguish the artist from the showman-cum-self publicist and exhibitionist. Dalí was many things – artist, sculptor, photographer, clothing & object designer, film-maker, writer and poet … and in his later years a facilitator of fake copies of his own work!
Early on in his artistic apprenticeship Dalí began by taking the conventional path, studying the old masters (especially Raphael, Velázquez and Vermeer) which honed his ultra realistic technique. Dabbling initially in Fauvism (inspired by Matisse), he gravitated towards the iconoclastic Surrealists. The Surrealist movement’s insistence on the primacy of the unconscious as a precondition to creativity neatly fused with his own views which had been shaped by his readings of Freud. Typically though Dalí forged his own self-referential brand of Surrealism which he termed the paranoiac-critical method.
Dalí with fellow Surrealist Man Ray in 1934 ⤴
Dali visited America (New York) for the first time in 1934 where he was enthusiastically embraced as “the embodiment of Surrealism”[1]. After the Nazis invaded France in 1940 Dalí fled back to New York, where he sat out the war.
A mania for shock and outrage
The dandyish Dalí found America the ideal milieu in indulge in his predilection for shocking and scandalising the public. Numbered among the periodical, zany antics and pranks pulled by Dalí and his “collaborator-in-crime”, his much vilified Russian émigré wife Gala, were:
▹ attending a masquerade party with Gala dressed as the Lindbergh baby and he as the kidnapper (a grievous miscalculation by the Dalís as the heinous celebrity crime was still fresh in American minds, requiring the artist to afterwards beg forgiveness for the appalling taste of his stunt)
▹ attending a “Dalí Ball” in his honour wearing a glass case displaying a bra
▹ organising an event in a Manhattan bookshop in 1962 where he signed copies of his book in a hospital bed whilst he was wired up to a brain wave machine[2].
SD & Babou
Dalí delighted in over-the-top, exhibitionist displays of eccentricity. As he got older his shtick included prancing round with exotic wild animals on a leash (exotic animals have long been the accessory du jour for celebrities). He was well known for taking his pet South American ocelot with him on luxury cruises and to swanky restaurants. Photos also show him walking a giant anteater around the streets of New York on a lead as if it was the family dog.
Dalí’s ‘oddball’ gimmicks were all part of the artist’s “carefully cultivated image of a madman”[3]. The prevalence of photos of Dalí with chickens or other objects on his head, etc. points to the contrived nature of his eccentricity. Dalí’s appearances before the camera, unkempt hair, imperious piercing eyes and trademark extravagantly curled moustache, added to the image of an unhinged persona.
‘Temptation of St Anthony’ (see below)
Dalí’s enfant terrible behaviour (a condition that persisted his whole life!), whilst good for keeping him in the public eye and boosting sales, nonetheless alienated many in the art world. The Surrealists eventually disowned the Catalan artist for his egomaniacal antics and his blatant and shameless exhibitionism and commercialism. In 1939, Andre Breton, the founder of the Surrealist movement, gave Dalí the nickname Avida Dollars (an anagram of “Salvador Dalí”) which can be translated as “eager for dollars”[4].
Some observers have noted that the Surrealists’ reasons for rejecting Dalí had also to do with his increasingly apolitical position in the wake of the rising tide of fascism in the 1930s (going so far as to suggest that Dalí was soft on Nazism). Breton and other left-wing members of the movement, by contrast to Dalí, had used their Surrealist writing and art to attack the direction taken by Hitler and Mussolini. Later when Dalí happily returned to live in post-war Spain under the uncompromising dictatorship of Franco, he was further howled down by the Leftist artists sympathetic to communism[5].
⤴ Dali working on the set of Hitchcock’s ‘Spellbound’ (1945)
Spending long periods in America (and specifically Hollywood) from the late 1930s allowed Dalí to continue his interest and involvement in film. Even before first coming to America he was very much into cinema. In 2007 the Figueres-based Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, in conjunction with the Tate Modern, held an exhibition called ‘Dali and Film’ in London which details his long association with film[6]. In the late 1920s-early 1930s he had made two polemically radical films with Luis Bunuel, a later master director of the screen (Un Chien andalou and L’Age d’or).
After coming in contact with Hollywood, Dalí, through his friendship with Harpo Marx, worked on writing of a screenplay for a Marx brothers movie to be called ‘Giraffes on Horseback Salad’ (planned scenes included gas mask-wearing giraffes and Chico in a deep-sea diving suit playing the piano bore the unmistakable Dalí touch). Plans for the movie were unfortunately scuttled after Groucho put the kibosh on it[7].
Dalí’s set from ‘Spellbound’
During the years he lived in America, Dalí worked with Hollywood luminaries of the calibre of Hitchcock and Disney. The Spanish artist, surprisingly for many in the US, became very good friends with Walt Disney. Walt and Sal collaborated on a short cartoon (Destino) but the project was not completed by them (possibly because Dalí’s ideas were “too explicit” for Disney). With Hitch, on Spellbound (a psychological crime thriller), Dalí created the artistic set for the dream sequence scene. He also later worked with director Vincente Minnelli on Father of the Bride creating some characteristic Dalí motifs[8].
At the Tate Modern exhibition back in 2007 one of the Dalí paintings that caught my attention for being somewhat incongruous was a rather conservative (for Dalí!) portrait of Hollywood movie mogul Jack L Warner*. I wasn’t aware at the time but apparently the powerful Warner Brothers studio head was also a friend of Dalí. A strange association I thought but his estranged, one-time friend Luis Bunuel in his autobiography opined that Dalí was always attracted to the company of multi-millionaires (so much so he became one! … Dalí left an estate worth around US$32m). Cecil B De Mille was another Hollywood establishment heavyweight that Dalí cultivated a friendship with.
A further surprise for me at the Tate ‘Dalí and Film’ exhibition was to see how small many of the Catalan’s artworks were. For example, Dalí’s 1931 work (above), the Persistence of Memory (AKA ‘Melting Clocks’), one of his most famous and most referenced paintings, stands at a mere 10″ x 13″, virtually a miniature!
Dalí was praised for his avant-garde work in the thirties and universally admired for his artistic technical virtuosity. But by the fifties and sixties most of that distinctive originality had dried up. Influential art critic Robert Hughes summarised Dali’s later oeuvre as “kitschy repetition of old motifs or vulgarly pompous piety on a Cinemascope scale”[9]. By this time Dalí’s unchecked commercialism had overshadowed all vestiges of his artistic integrity (he had stooped to doing TV ads for Lanvin Chocolates, designing logos for Chupa Chups, etc).
‘L’elephant-giraffe’ (1965) ⤴
Controversy continued to dog Dalí into his seventies and eighties. As he got older and frailer he became embroiled in forgery scandals. He resorted to signing thousands of blank canvases (possibly he was coerced into this by the manipulative Gala and other ‘hangers-ons’ close to him in their haste to cash in on the famed Dalí name). To this day fakes and frauds of Dalí’s paintings and lithographs (some with real signatures) proliferate around the world with countless numbers of unsuspecting buyers finding themselves lumbered with inauthentic Dalís.
Burning giraffe + women with drawers AKA “Femme-coccyx” (tail bone woman)
PostScript: The Dalí style
Dalí’s art is characteristically laden with ideography, much of it religious (eg, several on Gala as Madonna, one coupling her with Dalí as a monk, The Discovery of America by Christopher Columbus); often his landscapes are populated by bizarre animal symbols (eg, burning giraffes; elephants and horses with extremely long but thin (stilt-like) legs (The Temptation of St Anthony). Some works border on the pornographic (eg, a dismembered nude girl being sodomised by rhinoceros horns!?!) and there is a onanistic element to some of his paintings (eg, The Great Masturbator). Violent human dismemberment is another recurrent theme (eg, Soft Construction with Boiled Beans). He also enjoyed experimenting with optical effects in his works, like superimposing faces onto landscapes (eg, Paranoiac Visage.)
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
* Dalí also did a painting of Warner’s wife, although Mrs Jack Warner is a bit more edgy work than the portrait of her husband.
[1] Dalí & Film, An exhibition of the artist at the Tate Modern (London), 1 June – 9 September 2007 (text by Matthew Gale)
[2] S Meisler, ‘The Surrealist World of Salvador Dalí’, Smithsonian Magazine, Apr 2005
[3] Sara Cochran, quoted in G Goodale, ‘In Hollywood, Dalí’s films are reappraised”, Christian Science Monitor, 2 Nov 2007, www.csmonitor.com. Dalí seems to have possessed that Hamlet-like quality of ‘madness’ – “I am but mad north-north-west … I know a hawk from a handsaw”.
[4] M Vallen, ‘Salvador Dalí – Avida Dollars’, Feb 2005, www.art-for-a-change.com
[5] ibid.
[6] ‘Dali & Film’, op.cit.
[7] R Kennedy, ‘Mr Surrealist goes to Tinseltown’,New York Times, 29 June 2008, www.mobile.nytimes.com
[8] ibid.
[9] R Hughes, ‘Homage to Catalonia’, The Guardian, 13 Mar 2004
≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡
In the 1953 film, Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (Mr Hulot’s Holiday), Jacques Tati introduced the character of Monsieur Hulot to the world of cinema-goers. Over the next 18 years in a sequence of four widely spread out movies, Tati reprised Hulot who became the emblematic face and profile, if not the (audible) voice, of the idiosyncratic Parisian’s cinema. In the features made by Tati between 1953 and 1971 Hulot was the central figure and yet at the same time he was peripheral to the ‘action’ of the story, “the man nobody quite sees” as Roger Ebert described him [R Ebert, ‘Mr. Hulot’s Holiday’, www.rogerebert.com]. No one notices that is, until something goes “pear-shaped” as a consequence of Hulot’s habitual clumsiness (mime-clown Tati’s characteristic slapstick shtick).
▪ • ▪ ‘Mr Hulot’s Holiday’
▪ • ▪
Physically M Hulot cuts a tall, distinctive figure, a sort of “prancing, myopic giraffe” (a reference to his characteristic springy, long-striding gait) as one collaborator notes [Peter Lennon, ‘My holiday with Monsieur Hulot’, The Guardian (23-Jul-2003, www.theguardian.com/]. Another critic calls him “a gangling, spider-limbed gent”. Stanley Kaufmann describes Hulot as “a creature of silhouettes” [S Kaufmann, ‘The Second Mr.Hulot’, New Republic 139(23),1958]. The elongated Hulot silhouette was put to good use in the various film posters for the Hulot movies. Hulot’s standard beige/grey garb, the fedora hat and long-stem pipe, tired-looking long trenchcoat, long pants (not quite long enough to reach his ankles) and umbrella, were all well suited to the dark outline of Tati’s characteristic form. The personality of Hulot is avuncular, benign, friendly, forever curious, but he is also uber-gauche and prone to misadventures.
• • •
Perpetually observing humankind
The storyline of Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot is, as always with Tati, a simple one. M Hulot visits a resort in the north-west coast to get a taste for himself of the new, post-war passion for spending summer at the seaside. He wanders round with no particular object in mind, just checking out the cavalcade of human ‘wildlife’ that is drawn to the beach resort. There is no plot to speak of, just a series of amusing, whimsical escapades, eg, a ping-pong game in which we see only the figure of Hulot running flat-chat from one side to the other frantically trying to return the ball. The location for Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday was the French seaside town of Saint-Marc-sur-Mer which today has a bronze statue of the man who put it on the tourist map (depicting Hulot in typical stance, tilting forward, observing the human interactions on the beach).
▪ • ▪ ‘Mon Oncle’: Hulot’s ‘penthouse’ loft
▪ • ▪
▪ • ▪ ‘Min Onkel’ (Danish poster)▪ • ▪
Mon OncleMon Oncle (My Uncle) (1958) was the second in the M Hulot series, this time Tati’s disapproving and eagle-eyed attention was directed towards the modern suburban home and mania for consumerism of the Parisian middle classes, willing participants in a Conga line of sheer mindless acquisitiveness. The story has Hulot, living in the city and unemployed, visiting his sister and her family (the Arpels) in the new suburbs on the outskirts of Paris. Hulot spends his days looking after his young nephew Gèrard. Villa Arpel, their ultra-mod house and garden is a geometric monstrosity, designed with an obsessiveness bordering on the pathological! All aspects of the villa are fully automated, everything is push button remote controlled—gates, doors, “weird fish” water fountain, everything precisely mechanised.
Hulot’s sister wants him to adopt their chic lifestyle so she gets him a job at her husband’s company (called Plastak). The venture proves comically disastrous with Hulot falling foul of a ubiquitous and seemingly endless red hose and entangles himself in a caper to try to dispose of it. The plastics factory, like the Arpels’ antiseptic home, is a soulless and sterile environment.
While he’s there, Hulot’s sister tries to match him up with her neighbour, a matrimonial project which is equally doomed to failure. The female neighbour is far too bourgeois in her tastes for Hulot, who is in any case a confirmed bachelor.
In Mon Oncle we are left in no doubt that Tati’s vision of the world sees modern technology as anathema to humanity! The Arpels live in an bland and ugly modernist style home with a pristine, sterile yard. The home’s arsenal of whiz-bang gadgets are not only coldly impersonal but Hulot discovers that their functional effectiveness is not up to scratch. The gate is practically entry-proof, the garage doors malfunction, the small parking space is totally inadequate for the Arpel’s very big, shiny American car, and so on.
▪ • ▪ A replica of ‘Villa Arpel’ in Paris ⟱ ▪ • ▪
Hulot brings his own brand of disorder to the house but this only serves to accentuate the original folly of the project. The Arpel house “designed to trumpet the ingenuity of engineering” succeeds merely at highlighting its lack of functionality and utter impracticality (witness the ridiculously serpentine front path) [Matt Zoller Seitz, ‘Mon Oncle’, 06-Jan-2004, Criterion,www.criterion.com].
Tati is a dab hand at noting all of the “modern inconveniences”(sic) of contemporary Western society. Mon Oncle is a sharp commentary on the way “modern life traps humanity within its contrivances” [James Quandt, ‘Scatterbrained Angel: The Films of Jacques Tati’, From the Current – Criterion Collection, www.criterion.com] Mon Oncle, Tati’s obra maestra , won the Oscar for best foreign language film in 1959.
• • • Hulot and ‘Barbara’ (American tourist in Paris)
• • •
Playtime
An idiosyncratic feature of Jacques Tati’s cinema is its unwavering critical focus on the unrelenting mania for all things modern. With Playtime, the focus turns again to the ultra-mod world—modernity in architecture, shop interiors, in everything—that has come to dominate modern cities like Paris. As always, the plot-line is coincidental, dialogue is incidental. The insouciant M Hulot wanders round the city visiting the airport and various buildings, in doing so he continually crosses paths with a group of gormless, wide-eyed American tourists. Hulot peers inside busy offices to expose dispiriting scenes of workers in their own depersonalised little boxes shut off from human interaction. Playtime is a flawed gem, like all of Tati’s films it has a slow, leisurely build-up but it suffers from being too long—originally around 155 minutes but cut to 124 minutes for commercial release in 1967—still too long and crying out for tighter editing. The film, by a long way the auteur’s most expensive, disappointed many upon its release, especially when viewed against the preceding Mon Oncle.
Although the persona of Hulot is the human thread that runs through Playtime, Tati deliberately does not allow the popular character to dominate proceedings (as tended to be the case in Mr Hulot’s Holiday and Mon Oncle) [Kent Jones,’Playtime’, From the Current – Criterion Collection, www.criterion.com] putting the focus back on ‘everybody’, ie, the observed cross-section of humanity. Tati eschews the use of close-up shots and the technique of the camera panning in for exactly the same reason. A sub-plot of Playtime follows American tourist ‘Barbara’ whose own meanderings always eventually lead her back to Hulot.
Trademark cute
There are many little gems in Playtime – the signature Tati sight gags like the blissfully unaware Hulot boarding a crowded bus grabbing on to what he thought was a handrail, immersing himself distractedly in his newspaper only to find himself again out on the footpath at the next stop because the mistaken handrail was actually the tall floor lamp of a fellow commuter who had alighted the bus with Hulot still holding on. Or the spiral neon arrow on the nightclub sign which guides the drunk straight back into the “Royal Garden” from which he has just departed … both of these sight gags are pure gold! Playtime represents the zenith, the highest expression, of Hulot’s distaste for the contemporary world of “mod cons” and gadgetry.
‘Playtime’: Hulot and those dehumanising work boxes! ⟱
So much of Tati’s film art is about messing with the impersonality of modernisation which he disapproves of, sabotaging it to bring the dehumanising folly of it into the spotlight, this is his narrative. As Ebert precisely describes it, Tati “discovers serendipity in a world of disappointment”, ‘Mon Oncle’, www.rogerebert.com]. In Play Time, “an obstreperous cityscape whose supposed modern conveniences conspire to trip, bewilder, and ensnare the hapless populace gets violently reshaped as a vast play area” [David Cairns, ‘Jacques Tati: Things Fall Together’, www.criterion.com]. The film, Tati’s first go at a big (wide-screen) movie, turned into something of an epic saga, being eight years in the making!§Play Time was the most expensive French film to that point ever made, in no small measure due to Tati’s insistence on constructing a horrendously expensive mini-city, a set of glass and steel, nicknamed Tativille. To finance the film Tati had to sell his own home and eventually the rights to all his films – a clear indication of Tati’s single-minded commitment to an artistic vision!
Tati’s fifth feature, Traffic (or Trafic in French) was the last to include M Hulot. Traffic’s plot and narrative is as threadbare as Playtime: Hulot is a car designer who invents a new automobile, a gadget-packed camper car, the film tracks Hulot’s attempts to transport it to Amsterdam for a motor show. The trip, as any trip would be involving M Hulot, is incident-laden. Hulot and his companions experience various vicissitudes including breakdowns, customs inspection hold-ups and a multiple car pile-up, in the end arriving at the destination too late for the auto show.
• • •
Finding the funny in life’s absurd
In the laughs department Traffic is a bit light on compared to the earlier Hulot pictures. But that said, Tati films do not create “belly” laughs, no real LOL moments, the humour generated by him is more of a gentler, subtler style of comedy, giving rise to a wry reflection on an amusing situation. There is one scene in Trafic though where the director draws comical comparisons with the Apollo 11 moon mission (happening concurrently with the making of Trafic) with two of the characters mimicking the low-gravity motion of astronauts.
‘Trafic’ (1971)
• • •
The Tatiesque film: a throwback to a lost cinema
The films of M Tati are not everybody’s cup of tea. They tend towards a polarising effect. Many decry the lack of pace and that it appears that ‘nothing’ is really happening. In Trafic, as in all of Tati’s features, he was criticised for the weakness of the dialogue. Tati would have been indifferent to this objection because it was inconsequential to what his (idiosyncratic) cinema was about – to him the visual had primacy, whether it be man versus road, man versus building, etc. [James Monaco, ‘Review of Trafic by Jacques Tati’, Cinéaste, Vol. 34, No. 3 (Summer 2009). As a child Jacques grew up on a diet of silent cinema, Keaton was his idol, but he devoured the work of Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy, Harold Lloyd, all the great silent comics. His strain of comedy harked back to that era. As Kaufmann noted, Tati in the postwar period was “the only performer attempting to recapture the immensely more imaginative and abstract comedy of silent days” [Kaufmann, op.cit].
▪ • ▪ Situational humour ▪ • ▪
Entering the cinema from a background as a mime in music-hall also grounded Tati in the art of the visual and the physical. Tati’s films are not strictly silent pictures in that there is (minimal) low-level dialogue. Sounds do play a role but as background, complimentary but subordinate to the visual, the situation humour that was the essence of silent comedies. Stylistically, dialogue in a Tati movie is a device for sound effect [Jonathan Romney, ‘Jacques Tati’s Playtime: Life-affirming comedy’, The Guardian (25-Oct-2014), www.theguardian.com/film]. It never distracts from the central preoccupation of his cinema, observation of the interaction of human nature with the environment.
Life in boxes: Absurdity of modernity (‘Playtime’j
At the time of Tati’s death (1982) he was working on a project for a new Monsieur Hulot film entitled ‘Confusion’ – with its theme to be the obsession of western society with television and visual images. As James Monaco observes, it would be fascinating to have seen what Tati would have made of today’s virtual world, the internet, social networking media and digital devices [Monaco, op.cit.].
▪ • ▪ François (centre) in L’École des Facteurs (‘School for Postmen’), a 1947 short which prefigured Tati’s feature film debut ▪ • ▪
‘Jour de féte’ (1949)
Footnote: Proto-Hulot
Before there was Hulot, there was François. François was the eccentric comic creation in Tati’s first feature, Jour de Fête (The Big Day) (1949). The storyline has François, an over-zealous and maladroit postman (a kind of public servant precursor to M Hulot), who watches a US postal training film and tries to replicate its efficiency in his provincial post office operation. The results however go disastrously haywire. Introducing the theme Tati would return to again and again, the director satirises contemporary society’s slavish devotion to technological progress, especially it’s over-eagerness to adopt every new innovation from America [‘Jacques Tati Facts’, www.biography.yourdictionary.com].
↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝
§ a consequence in part of Tati’s directorial style on set which might best be described as monumentally indecisive
Like the ‘Hot’ War (WWII) preceding it, the Cold War has always been fertile ground for the stuff of Hollywood drama (and melodrama). Right through the era the alleged plots of communists, whether identified explicitly or implicitly, provided inspiration for writers and directors of both film and television. The persona of the vilified communist agitator neatly slotted into the ‘bad guy’ role once occupied by the native American Indian in Westerns, particularly conveniently so at a time when the Western was starting to lose its mass entertainment appeal on cinema and TV screens.
‘The Avengers’: Gentlemen’s bowler hats & sexy black leatherwear
In the political aftermath of the Second World War the USA and the USSR found themselves locked into an international power struggle for global supremacy with the capitalist system pitted against the communist one, culturally as well as militarily and economically. In the prevailing atmosphere of tension and mutual distrust, espionage and counterintelligence flourished. Inevitably the new international “spy game” found its way on to the pages of novels, comic books and into films and television. In the 1960s the interest in the espionage/sabotage dimension of the Cold War escalated into a “spy craze” on both the big and the small screens. On television two successful British spy series, Danger Man and The Avengers❈, both preceded the first film of the cinematic espionage game-breaker, the James Bond series.
The espionage/spy film sub-genre of course did not begin in the 1960s but can be traced back to the pre-war era with its first-wave popularity established to a large extent by suspense king, Alfred Hitchcock, with films such as The Man Who Knew Too Much, The 39 Steps, Secret Agent and Sabotage [AMC Film Site, (Suspense/Thriller Films), www.filmsite.org ]. The driving force for the popularity of the 1960s Spy movie was the extraordinary (and enduring) success of the James Bond Agent 007 series franchise. The Bond movie phenomena spawned a flurry of imitators, including parodies (some good, some mediocre or worse), from the mid-sixties, eg, Our Man Flint, The Silencers (Matt Helm series), The Ipcress File, Agent 8¾, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, The Spy with a Cold Nose, Torn Curtain, A Dandy in Aspic, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., I Spy, Get Smart, etc.
Despite the Communism (Soviet Russia) V Capitalism (America) conflict being at the core of the Cold War drama,it’s cessation by the early 1990s did not result in the demise of the TV and film spy genre, far from it! James Bond, post-Soviet Union, pits himself against “an (unnamed) international terrorist network far more amorphous than the KGB”. The ongoing success of the Jason Bourne series of movies in a post-9/11 world sees special agent Bourne foiling the evil schemes of one terrorist ring after another, some with a seemingly Slavic hue to them, others projecting something more generally Middle-Eastern in flavour. It seems, as Tony Shaw put it, “that the Cold War had never really gone away, at least not from our cinema and television screens” (T Shaw, ‘Hollywood’s Cold War’, Australasian Journal of American Studies, Vol. 21, No 1, Jul. 2008).
The original on-screen preoccupation with the theme of the Cold War has its origins in the McCarthyist intrigues in Hollywood. From 1947 the House Committee of Un-American Activity (HUAC), spearheaded by Junior Republican Senator Joseph McCarthy, turned its attention on Hollywood with a view to systematically weeding out communists and “fellow travellers” from the film industry. As the fear and paranoia generated by the ‘Red Scare’ impacted on Hollywood, the studio moguls responded to HUAC’s pressure by voluntarily climbing on board the anti-communist witch-hunt for ‘subversives’, commissioning films with an undisguised anti-communist message. The upshot of the Committee turning the torch on Tinseltown was sadly the ‘blacklisting’ of many promising actors and behind-the-camera practitioners. Rising actors like Larry Parks and John Garfield had their careers truncated or ended by the activities of HUAC, as did the group of writers, directors and producers known as the Hollywood Ten.
Emerging post-war social realism films stymied
The big studio heads’ decision to focus on films exposing the supposed communist infiltration of the United States also had an adverse effect on social realism films which in that same year (1947) were starting to have an impact. Hollywood’s enlistment in the war against internal communism largely put paid to the trend towards “problem pictures” dealing with social issues such as anti-Semitism (Gentlemen’s Agreement), alcoholism (Smash-Up) and schizophrenia (Possessed)[Daniel J Leab, ‘How Red was my Valley: Hollywood, the Cold War Film, and I Married a Communist‘, Journal of Contemporary History, 19(1), Jan. 1984].
Following 1947 there was an ongoing sequence of crudely propagandist “Reds under the bed” films with titles like Walk a Crooked Mile, The Red Menace, Conspirator, I Married a Communist, Invasion, U.S.A., The Jet Pilot. The movies and especially ones like John Wayne’s Big Jim McLain and My Son John (both 1952 releases) overtly attacked the communist lifestyle and sought to show that subversives were actively at work undermining the American fabric of life. Most of the stock standard B-movies seeking to exploit the Red Scare were abysmal, often completing losing the plot and portraying Communism more as “a variety of gangsterism” than as an alternative ideology systematically trying to achieve world domination [ibid.].
Hollywood domestic shock/horror & scandal 40s & 50s style
Other US anti-Red films took a more indirect if thinly-veiled approach. Them (1954) employed the allegorical device of megasized mutant ants threatening society to convey the communist menace. The Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) was thematically similar, depicting emotionless alien clones (read ‘Communists’ infiltrating Planet Earth). California Conquest (1952) put the issue into a historical context: Spanish Californians circa 1840 thwart a Russian attempt to take over the Pacific Coast colony [ibid.]. I Married a Communist (1950) took the laboured, crude message to a new height (perhaps that should be depth!). This RKO film was a pet project of Howard Hughes, the only Hollywood studio boss who fully shared HUAC’s conviction of the ‘Red Peril’ to heart, fervently launching his own anti-communist crusade within RKO. Hughes went so far as to remove the individual credits from industry persons he suspected of being communists [ibid.].
The television arm of Hollywood similarly wasted no time in jumping on the anti-communist bandwagon. From the early fifties right through the decade the studios turned out a slew of short-lived, jejune Cold War TV dramas with homogeneous-sounding names such as Shadow of the Cloak, The Door with No Name, Foreign Intrigue, I Spy (two distinct series used this title 10 years apart), Secret File, U.S.A., Top Secret, Passport to Danger, Behind Closed Doors. Counterspy was another one, interesting only because it had started life as a WWII radio drama with Nazis as the villains, only to be upgraded in the Cold War, swapping Nazis for communists as the new villains [‘Commie Fighters of the ’50s’, www.for-your-eys-only.com ]. The sole stand-out fifties spy series with any kind of longevity was I Led Three Lives, which dramatised the real-life experiences of American double agent Herbert Philbrick [‘The anti-communist spy as TV entertainer’, www.jfredmacdonald.com].
By around the end of the fifties the Cold War films and TV series of this ilk with their crude, oversimplistic and formulaic style, as West versus East propaganda had become out-of-date. McCarthyism was on the downward slide, détente had started to thaw out international relations with the Eastern Bloc. The ideological enemy to Americans was no longer a singular one, Communist China had cemented itself as the new bogeyman for the self-appointed guardian of democracy. The perception was now, mixing racism with politics, that a yellow threat to the Free World was a factor along with the earlier red one [Leab, op.cit.].
‘The Iron Petticoat’ 1956
The flip side of the McCarthyist-inspired pictures of the 1950s which were driven by the hysteria and paranoia of the communist witch-hunt was a whole host of movies which sought to exploit the Cold War for laughs. Among these pseudo spy/espionage comedies was My Favourite Spy, The Iron Petticoat and The Mouse that Roared (1950s), Carry On Spying and The Russians are Coming,The Russians are Coming (1960s), through to Spies Like Us and Stripes (1980s). These sort of movies tended to portray Russian agents and military types as often bungling, humourless semi-robots (or if female, stereotyped as cold, charmless and unsexed).
‘Casino Royale’ 1967
Note: the ‘spoofiest’ of all Bondesque films was the one based on the book written by the Bond author himself, Ian Fleming, Casino Royale (1953) (Ex-agent Fleming’s first James Bond novel), with David Niven (Sir James Bond) and Woody Allen (little Jimmie Bond) as the most absurdist of James Bond incarnations! Also see PostScript.
The Cold War has been the subject or inspiration for countless films and TV episodes over the past 60-plus years. The form of the sub-genre has shifted over time. In the black-and-white 1950s we had the crude, sombre “Reds under the bed” films and television programs. In the 1960s the hysteria diminished and celluloid representations of espionage were generally less bleak than in the preceding decade. The Ur-secret agent James Bond Agent 007 was the measure and model of the sub-genre, the unbroken series of films kicking off with Dr No in 1962.
‘Get Smart’: The Cone of Silence, symbol of spy technology malfunction, (source: johndalybooks.com)
PostScript: Spy Spoofery
The increasingly invoked secret agent trope was in itself inverted with the advent of spy spoofs on cinema and TV screens (most famously Get Smart, but also Austin Powers, Johnny English, Spy Hard). The TV and movie spy satires weren’t really interested in peddling an anti-communist message, their creators just wanted to exploit the Cold War genre and its ludicrous scenarios for all its comedic worth!
With the demise of the Cold War in the early 1990s, the slick, transparently escapist Bond film (not to mention it’s myriad of imitators using or misusing the skills of actors like James Coburn, Dean Martin and Dirk Bogarde) reinvented itself by discovering new (non-Soviet) antagonists and dangers, and the franchise continues to be mega-profitable, churning out a new Bond film for a receptive and insatiable global audience every couple of years.
▛▜▟▜⛘◚▛◚▙◛◛◛◙◙◙◚◚◚◙◙◙◛◛◛▙◚◚◚▛▛▜▟▜
❈ Christopher Bray makes an intriguing comparison of the motives (or lack thereof) of The Avengers and James Bond. Whereas Bond’s rationale was clear cut, to stop Spectre from achieving its goal of world domination, Steed and Mrs Peel enter a Kafkaesque world each week to avenge the murders of public servants by villains acting for some ‘unseen’ and ‘unknown’ powers whose seem utterly motiveless, Christopher Bray, 1965: The Year Modern Britain Was Born (2014)
The Epic Film: Myth and History, by Derek Elley (re-published 2014, originally published 1984)
༻༄༄༄༻
The onset of the 21st century seemed to herald a revival in the epic genre in film. Large-budget “Sword-and-Sandal” movies of the early 2000s such as Gladiator and Troy, labelled “Neo-epic films” by cinema critics, have reinvigorated the genre. At the same time, a new blockbuster phenomenon in the shape of the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter series of films, padded with wall-to-wall distinguished British (and Commonwealth) actors, have extended the epic genre, and in the case of the ‘Rings’ cycle, given the flagging “Sword-and-Sorcery” sub-genre a new lease of life.
The author’s approach to his subject is a somewhat scholarly one, although the book also remains accessible purely on an entertainment level. Elley begins by making clear the distinction between the heroic and the epic … “heroes alone do not make an epic,” other ingredients especially the “all-important mythic quality” is needed to elevate the narrative to a higher plane, the ‘supra-human’ dimension. The author then proceeds to trace the transition from the epic in its original, literary form to its cinematic form.
The book concerns itself to a large extent with the type of epic film much in vogue in the fifties and sixties, drawn from the history and mythology of antiquity (Greece, Rome, Egypt, Mesopotamia). Right up front I’d have to say that I think that the author is inclined to take the genre a bit too seriously. The epic movie, in whatever phase or incarnation it takes, has been something difficult to be especially serious about! By definition the standard form of the epic has tended to be characterised by an indulgence in excess – grandiosity, vulgarity, basically everything 8XL in size! Mention the epic film and people often think of monumental Hollywood flicks like Ben-Hur, Spartacus, Cleopatra, and the like. Conspicuous consumption the order of the day, so much so so that it could be suggested that epic films should be primarily seen as a kind of parody of themselves.
The Epic Film spends a good deal of time examining another type of epic movie, the Continental Sword-and-Sandal variant of the species which further takes away from the serious side of the genre’s purpose. The “Sword-and-Sandal” as the book points out is also known in the trade as a Peplummovie …from peplos the type of ancient Greek robe or tunic worn by women (as modelled below). Strictly speaking ancient men wore chitons, a lighter, simpler and usually shorter garment than the feminine peplos, but the name ‘Peplum’ stuck for the epic movie!
This sub-genre had its heyday between the late 1950s and the mid 1960, usually set in Ancient Greece or Rome and often filmed at Cinecittà in Rome (for a time the world’s film studio of choice) and/or in the campagna in Italy or Spain. The elements of the genre are well-known and entirely formulaic: heroic but one-dimensional gladiatorial strongmen, a bevy of immaculately beautiful but defenceless heroines in sexy, ultra-mini peplums, a paper-thin storyline appallingly scripted and only coincidentally unrecognisable as history, incoherently edited, low budgets, sloppily shot with atrociously wooden acting and haphazardly dubbed into English.
Footnote: the popularity of the Italian Peplum provided career change opportunities for body builders as many would-be actors like Steve Reeves, Mark Forest and Kirk Morris, made the transition from the bodybuilding game to become leads in Sword-and-Sandal sagas. Interestingly, many of the Italian musclemen-stars took Anglo-sounding names in an attempt to make them more appealing to the American market, thus the well-known Sergio Ciani became on screen the aptly named “Alan Steel”.
Steve Reeves’ phenomenally successful Labors of Hercules (1957) was the springboard for a spate of strongman-centred Pepla. From the mid sixties a number of the Peplum strongmen made the switch to Spaghetti Westerns which spectacularly filled the void when the popularity of the Sword and Sandal costumers began to wane. Spaghetti Westerns utilised the same device of giving its Italian stars American-sounding names, the most famous of which were the ‘Trinity’ duo, Terence Hill and Bud Spencer.
Whilst acknowledging the limitations of many of these B-grade epics Elley soberly proceeds to unearth all manner of meaningful cinematic aesthetics from the likes of Samson against the Moon Men, Hercules and the Tyrants of Babylon, etc, etc. The author describes his text somewhat grandly as an extended essay on defining “the epic form in its filmic context”. The definition in the book that took my eye is attributed to Charlton Heston, “There’s a temptingly simple definition of the epic film: It’s the easiest kind of picture to make badly” (Chuck should have known – he appeared in his fair share of dud epics in his career).
Strongman ‘Maciste’
Elley points out that spectacle is the most characteristic trademark of the epic genre, and that trait is (or was) synonymous with Hollywood. Although we connect the Pepla of that era with Italy and the Continent, we tend to associate the wider phenomenon of epics with America. The author quotes Peter Ustinov to good effect: “I’ve always thought that only the Americans can do Ancient Rome pictures. Both cultures have the same kind of relaxed, rangy pomp. Both have exactly the same kind of bad taste”.
⇧ Transparent marketing attempt to capitalise on the famous ‘Ben-Hur’ chariot racebut failing to meet those expectations
The book is adorned with some 88 pictures in glorious black-and-white and these may hold for some readers the greatest interest. Amongst these is a still from the 1964 movie The Fall of the Roman Empire, a long range shot of a Late Roman frontier fortress under attack – complete with a modern Italian villa and two parked fiats close by in the background. Another revealing picture contains a close-up of the cleft-chinned Kirk Douglas as the fabled Ulysses, his heroic countenance somewhat spoiled by the clearly visible but unsightly appearance of Kirk’s varicose veins! Or equally entertaining, is the photo (below) of Victor Mature as Samson, teeth gritted, valiantly wrestling a ‘savage’ lion which looks like it’s been recently rejected by a local Los Angeles taxidermist.
Many of the era’s epic films that came out of Hollywood tend to be prone to snatches of excruciatingly bad dialogue. The book provides a wealth of atrocious quotes from the genre. Savour if you will these little vignettes which run the gamut from overblown dramatic(sic) intensity to inane absurdity:
“When you speak of destiny, this is something I must at last believe” (delivered with exaggerated emphasis), Genghis Khan, in Genghis Khan (1965).
“Love and hate are horns on the same goat”, Rune woman, in The Vikings (1958).
“At one time, when you were a little fella, you were always asking questions!”, Joseph, to Jesus, in The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965).
This last line of dialogue, tinged with more than a touch of folksy mid-western Americanism, could easily have rolled from the mouth of failed actor-turned-US president, Ronnie Reagan, whilst whittling wood on the back-step of his Californian ranch.
By focussing on 50s and 60s Hollywood and Italian epics Elley largely neglects the first resurgence of the Sword-and-Sorcery film which took place in the late 70s and early 80s … the Star Wars cycle, Excalibur, Conan the Barbarian, etc (all made before The Epic Film‘s original publication in 1984). Other (admittedly minor) sub-genres of the epic such as the Sinbad saga films (The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, and so on) and the Swashbuckler/Pirate films don’t get a guernsey at all … although the Sinbad movies could just as well be categorised as adventure-fantasy films, rather than strictly Sword-and-Sorcery ones.
Elley’s study of the epic film genre is informative and instructive in so far as it goes. Ancient Greeks and Romans, Biblical figures, barbarians and Norsemen, all get a good run, but Elley’s historical survey cuts off at the end of the Dark Ages. I’m left with a tinge of regret that he didn’t take a more expansive approach in the book to include the grand and occasionally grandiloquent epic movies made about legendary Britons of a later era like Arthur and Robin Hood, as well as the more modern epics like Lawrence of Arabia or Dr Zhivago and even extend it to examples of the genre as diverse as 2001 a Space Odyssey and Planet of the Apes.
I’ve always thought it absurd that the average punter in the street raises up movie stars (whether it be Hollywood or any other derivative film community) to the status of demi-gods (as they do with pop and rock stars and elité sportspersons). Yes I know that it was ever thus, film stars in the silent era were arguably even more venerated by society given that at that time they did not have to compete with popular singers and sporting stars for the public’s kudos.
The media is of course deeply complicit in this with its obsessive focus on Hollywood box-office stars, especially the popular gossip mags’ hanging on every utterance and info snippet of headline-grabbing Hollywood A-listers like George Clooney, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt – a custom which is jejune and banal in the extreme. If these overblown ‘celebs’ make even a shallow pronouncement on environmental or human rights issues or announce their latest Third World orphan acquisition projects, this receives an inordinate amount of drooling media attention.
This ultra-reverence is ridiculously inane given that the great majority of movie stars are not necessarily exemplars of propriety and moral rectitude, and sometimes behave like pampered prima donnas in their overweening self-centredness. Proportionate to the rest of society, movie stars often behave badly, they have equally-manoeuvrable morals, they take drugs, they drink too much and beat their wives, extravagantly waste money, are unfaithful, get divorced (disproportionately to society at large in this case!), they are after all onlyactors! And yet media outlets continue to elevate them to the loftiest reaches of societal respect, as if some special higher wisdom is implicit in their trade.
Consequently she was ‘outed’ by the McCarthyists in ‘Red Channels’ (a right wing publication blacklisting suspected ‘subversives’ in the arts and media) and her burgeoning film career suffered accordingly❀. Hunt was a gifted actor, and an accomplished singer. She was also the composer of about 50 songs including one she wrote in the early 1960s, ahead of its time, on the subject of same sex equality in love and marriage – later a hit in the US in the 1980s.
In 1944 she was voted one of the Hollywood ‘Stars of Tomorrow’. However, like others in the industry who refused to recant their earnestly-held political convictions, roles for Hunt dried up. First she was relegated to B movies, then not even that and her film career was effectively over by the time she was 40. From the ’50s, Hunt, like many other Hollywooders including Ronald Reagan (180 degrees apart from her politically) found TV work her only reliable source of income and expression.
Peacenik, social activist
Marsha Hunt, friend to all Democratic presidents from FDR on, was and still is an activist with a capital ’A’. Outside of acting Marsha has pursued a concern for a host of vital humanitarian issues on the global stage—pollution, poverty, peace and population growth—as well as actively working against the blight of social homelessness and supporting the right of same sex equality. Hunt has never lacked for courage or for determination in anything she has done. She was active in the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s. The 2014 film documentary, Marsha Hunt’s Sweet Adversity, illustrates the 60-plus years (and ongoing) of active international work (world hunger campaigns, a staunch supporter of the United Nations, UNICEF and other UN humanitarian projects, etc) by a woman known to admirers as a “Planet Patriot“.
Today despite her great chronological seniority she is as committed to and active in the causes of ordinary people as she ever was! Marsha is still in her own principled way making a difference for the planet. Marsha Hunt, talented actor, indefatigable activist, world citizen, a refined woman of principles, a great humanitarian and advocate for universal civil rights – a truly great American.
﹌﹌﹋﹌﹋﹋﹌﹌﹋﹋﹌﹌﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋
⌺ Hunt is the only surviving member of the Committee for the First Amendment
❀ whilst other, more illustrious Hollywood liberals abjectly backed down in the onslaught of HUAC bullying, Hunt was one of the very few ‘Tinseltown’ stars to put her film career on the line by refusing to apologise for her support of the blacklisted ‘Ten’ and for her role in progressive activist causes
Source: pastposters.com
Images: Columbia Pictures
Wernher Von Braun (Photo: Mondadori via Getty Images)
Herman Kahn (Source: Alchetron)
Gen. Jack Ripper (Photo: Columbia Pictures)
Gen. Turgidson (Scott) in the War Room (Columbia Pictures)
Fail Safe (1964)
Errol Flynn (Source: New York Post)
Father & son together 
Son of Errol 
Sean with Pili…or is it Mili? (Source: briansdriveintheater.com)
The last photo of Sean Flynn (left) & colleague on the day they disappeared (Photo: Perry Deane Smith/MCT/Tribune News Service via Getty Images) 
Sean Flynn on patrol (Photo: Tim Page)B&W 4d Milk Bar with mechanical cow & Red Cross-like symbol
Golden Star Milk Bar, Perth (Photo source: M. Coufos)
Olympia, tea and milkshakes (Source: Daily Mail Australia)
Green plaque in limbo!
⊳ Texas, 1835-36 (Source: texashistory.unt.edu)
⊳ The Alamo, San Antonio (Photo: age fotostock)
⊳ The Alamo according to the John Wayne movie
⊳ The post-bellum myth portrayed a society of happy, docile slaves and benevolent masters as conveyed in the classic film Gone With The Wind
⊳ Slaves in the cotton field (Artist: John W Jones)
Source: art.com
Alfred’s hitch in making ‘Hamlet’
The final project pursued by Hitchcock was ”The Short Night”—based on a novel of the same name by Ronald Kirkbride and on the exploits of real-life double agent George Blake—which was to be Hitchcock’s red-hot crack at making a “realistic Bond movie”. In an interview with John Russell Taylor for Sight and Sound Hitchcock outlined the story’s great allure for him: ”It’s a situation that fascinates me: the man falls in love with the wife of a man he’s waiting to kill. It’s like a French farce turned inside-out. If he sees a boat coming across the bay with the husband on it, he can’t hop out of the back window, he has to wait and do what he has to do. And of course he can’t take the wife, who loves him, into his confidence. And so the whole romance is overshadowed by this secret, which gives it a special flavour and atmosphere. That’s what I want to convey”.
Poster for the movie that never materialised
THE phenomena of James Bond in both book and movie form was meant to be purely escapist entertainment, bereft of the slightest pretension that they were anything remotely cerebral. Interesting then that Bond has gleaned so much serious academic enquiry and analysis over the years. A sample of articles on JSTOR reveals a feast of scholarly entries on the subject of James Bond — “Shaken, Not Stirred Britishness: James Bond, Race, and the Transnational Imaginary”, “The Marketable Misogyny of James Bond“, “Paradoxical Masculinity: James Bond, Icon of Failure”, “Why James Bond Villains Prefer Post-Soviet Architecture”, “The Spy Who Loved Globalization”, ”How safe do you feel?: James Bond, Skyfall, and the Politics of the Secret Agent in an Age of Ubiquitous Threat”, and so on it goes.
The James Bond film franchise is certainly sui generis among English-language movie series. October 5 this year marked the 60th anniversary of the introduction of James Bond to cinema screen audiences (Dr No, 1962), and the cinematic sequence remains as yet unbroken, notwithstanding ”the elephant in the room” of last year’s No Time To Die in which the indestructible James Bond actually dies! Virtually all other elongated movie series have ultimately reached a natural (or unnatural) termination point – even the long-running, prolific and increasingly unimaginative Carry On comedy series ran out of steam by the Eighties 🄰.
Ian Fleming ‘Casino Royale’, 1st 007 novel (Image: bondfanevents.com)
If you came anew to the Bond movies looking for a healthy dose of gritty social realism based on the world of espionage a la John LeCarre, you’d be sadly disappointed. The franchise’s entries are all about fantasy and high-adventure escapism. Unlike the shadowy cloak-and-dagger characters that the real world of spies and secret agents (apparently?) inhabit, James Bond 007 in his public persona is an open book, he doesn’t use a fake name, he doesn’t try to disguise his appearance or furtively hide in dark corners. He’s direct, brash, brutal and recklessly undisciplined in his actions and antics, with a propensity to be easily distracted from the assignment at hand by the happy prospect of a spot of horizontal folk-dancing.
Though wildly successful at the box office over an extraordinarily long shelf life, James Bond is not everyone’s cup of tea. An early critic Judith Crist described the series’ first vehicle Dr No as “an updated comic strip of the Fu Manchu school, fast moving, faster shooting, utterly fantastic”. JB has been pilloried by feminists for his unrepentant chauvinism—especially in Sean Connery and Roger Moore’s interpretations of the character—and four decades of “Bond Girl“ objectification of women. The backlash against JB’s misogyny compelled producers to tone down the blatant sexism in the most recent incarnation of the most famous of all British secret agents played by Daniel Craig. Bond has also been excoriated as a “thug trained to wear a tuxedo”…007’s “license to kill” green-light unleashes the agent’s deep predilection for perpetrating extreme, lethal violence in cold blood.
Bond with “Jaws”, larger than life henchman-turned-ally
British Bond and foreign Blofeld
Bond, tapping into the zeitgeist of the day One (insider) view on the longevity of James Bond comes from those at the helm of the multi-billion dollar franchise today, Cubby Broccoli’s daughter Barbara and his step-son Michael Wilson. Broccoli’s heirs attribute the success to the family having managed to keep hold of the franchise’s reins throughout its entire history, and to JB’s and the franchise’s adaptability, 007 being able to change with the times🄶 (‘Why James Bond Has Endured For So Long, According to the Franchise Producer’, Joshua Meyer, Film, 8-Dec-2021, www.slashfilm.com).
Hergé with a cinematic clone of his fictional boy hero
In the early Sixties there were 2 French-made film adaptations of Tintin
A parody by Belgian cartoonist Dubus depicting a captive Tintin begging businessman Rodwell for his liberty (Source: Sydney Morning Herald)
Moulinsart have mined the full depths of Tintin’s merchandising potential, many spin-off items priced at the luxury high-end
Genootschap (Source: www.hergegenootschap.nl/)Fmr Australian prime minster Kevin Rudd satirised as Tintin
Jay North as Dennis in the American TV series
Source: Pinterest
The coincidence of two identically named sub-adult comic book characters evolving separately and independently has an even more remarkable, almost unbelievable, parallel. The two Dennises debuted as comic strip characters on either side of the Atlantic on the exact same day, 12th March 1951. Which “Dennis“ was conceived first by his respective creator cannot be known, but the two Eureka moments were certainly distinctively different.
Ketcham (1953), not dissimilar to Dennis Mitchell’s father in appearance
Source: Beano Studios
Just William
Sidekicks
British Dennis’ “besties” are Curly and Pie-Face (fellow “menaces”) but also prominent in the story is Dennis’ girl cousin Hermione Makepeace AKA Minnie the Minx, a rival to Dennis in the carnage creation stakes with a reputation as Beanotown’s “wildest tomboy”. Dennis Mitchell’s friends are the rather nondescript and naively loyal Joey and the feisty Margaret Wade who’s more of a frenemy and occasional nemesis to “The Menace”.
Canine deuteragonists
Boy’s best friend…both Dennises have a dog companion although Moonie/Law’s Dennis’ dog Gnasher—an Abyssinian Wire-haired Tripe Hound with black spiky hair to match its owner—didn’t get to make an appearance in the strips until Issue 1362 in 1968. Dennis Mitchell’s dog Ruff is a dog of a very different proportion, a Briad (a large French sheepdog{b})
Postscript: Bringing Dennis into line with the modern world
The arrival of the UK’s Dennis the Menace strip was a godsend to The Beano, boosting the comic mag’s flagging sales at the time. Today it is still The Beano‘s star vehicle{c} although the editors have had to tone down Dennis and some of his rougher edges. The 21st century Dennis the Menace is less anti-social, his more unsavoury traits such as bullying have been eradicated to conform to modern sensitivities [‘Beano hero: Dennis the Menace turns 70’, Alison Flood, The Guardian, 17-Mar-2021, www.theguardian.com]
Image: National WWII Museum
Listening to Tokyo Rose on Zero Hour (Source: psywarrior.com)
Iva at the mike
Belated presidential pardon (Screenshot ‘Iva Toguri, Patriot’)
Mitsu Yashima (Source: Densho Encyclopedia)
Credit: IMDb
The image stereotype of the Sherlock Holmes character (Source: Culture Livresque)
(Photo: CrimeReads)
As the intra-family ‘Barney’ over who controls the copyright to the Sherlock Holmes works deepened, the imbroglio entangled an investment company specifically set up to manage the windfall (aptly named “Baskervilles Investments”) and even the Royal Bank of Scotland (‘History of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Copyrights’, (2015), www.arthurconandoyle.com).
Andréa Plunket (Source: goodreads.com)
The Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Estate for its part has been particularly litigious in defence of its literary legacy. The Estate has consistently striven to maintain water-tight control over both the Sherlock Holmes stories and the characters. In 2013 it demanded author Leslie S Klinger pay a fee to license the Sherlock character for an anthology he was planning to do. Klinger’s response was to sue the Estate on the basis that most of the Sherlock material was in the public domain. In court the judge upheld Klinger’s position, while reaffirming that some late works were still covered under copyright (‘Sherlock Holmes Copyright: An overview’, Brogan Woodburn, www.redpoints.com). In 2020 it sued Netflix over its upcoming film Enola Holmes. The grounds? The film apparently depicts Holmes as having emotions and respecting women. This, the Estate contends, breaches Conan Doyle’s copyright (‘Lawsuit over ‘warmer’ Sherlock depicted in Enola Holmes dismissed’, Alison Flood, The Guardian, 22-Dec-2020, www.theguardian.com).
‘The Red-Headed League’ story (Golden Press edition, 1963)
The story of Robin Hood is one of those enduring English chronicles from the distant past, which like the Arthurian legend has continually provided rich fodder for the screen. The basic story is an all-too familiar one with universal appeal: a virtuous Saxon nobleman in Mediaeval England, fleeced out of his estate and title by powerful villains, responds by mobilising an heroic and effective resistance against the status quo, on the way freeing the poor and oppressed peasantry from their yokes. That the legend is known throughout the Anglophone world and Europe, is testimony to the fact has there been so many film and television goes at retelling the legend – starting with the first silent one in 1908.
It wasn’t until the 1922 silent version with Robin Hood played by the lead Hollywood actor of the day Douglas Fairbanks Sr that the Robin Hood movie achieved serious cinematic recognition. Fairbanks’ athletic prowess and spectacular stunts elevated the movie and captured the imagination of audiences. With a budget of nearly one million dollars (one of the biggest in the silent era) the 1922 Robin Hood helped to establish the ‘swashbuckler’ sub-genre in cinema.
The next version of note, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) is considered by many to be the best movie on the iconic Saxon hero. Errol Flynn in the title role brings the energy and verve to the film that largely accounts for The Adventures of Robin Hood’s standing as one of the great swashbucklers of Hollywood. As one critic observed: “Flynn’s Robert of Locksley, dripping with sexuality, good humor, panache and swagger, captures not only the derring-do character, but also the more dramatic side of his fight for injustice” (Susan King, ‘Classic Hollywood: 100 Years of Robin Hood movies’, LA Times, 12-May-2010). The use of (Technicolor) colour, still not widely used at that time, added to the film’s freshness and appeal.
One of two 1991 feature film versions of Robin Hood was the much hyped Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves which did well at the box office but was not critical well received. Kevin Costner was lambasted for his less than credible impersonation of an English noble as was the screenplay, though Alan Rickman won plaudits for his deliciously hammy Sheriff of Nottingham — “wicked, droll, sly, eye-rolling, witty one-liners and put-downs” (Roger Ebert). The second film entitled simply Robin Hood, starring another Irish thespian Patrick Bergin, tries for more modern touches. The movie tones down the traditional “rob from the rich, give to the poor”, socialist-leaning revolutionary Robin, opting for a more out and out impudent anti-authoritarian (Tom Jicha, SunSentinel, 13-May-1991). Another innovation is the replacement of Hood’s traditional nemeses, the Sheriff of Nottingham and Sir Guy of Gisborne, with two new baddies, Sir Miles Folcanet and Baron Deguerre. The Maid Marian role in RH adaptions are usually passive objects of attention, but this film has Uma Thurman attempting to redress this by actively participating in the climactic sword fight, (one critic was dismissive of this as “a contrived nod to present-day feminism”, Tom Shales, The Washington Post, 13-May-1991).
The 1950s was the first decade that television really impacted on the public and popular culture in advanced Western countries…for countless viewers in Britain, Canada, the US, Australia and New Zealand, this meant a new opportunity to indulge in the perennial classic adventure story of the Lincoln-green set. In those pioneering days in the new medium Associated Television’s Adventures of Robin Hood (1955-59) was compulsory viewing in grainy black and white. Richard Greene was a reassuringly efficient “righter of wrongs” and appropriately English in pedigree. His presence as Hood aided by interesting stories and an enticingly catchy theme song, saw the production through 143 episodes. The success of the Greene “Robin Hood” inspired a new wave of TV series on the Nottinghamshire archer extraordinaire from the Seventies on🅐. The pick of these is probably the 1984 series Robin of Sherwood which had the novelty of two different incarnations of Robin Hood. The ITV series was widely praised as a “gritty, authentic production design with real-life history, 20th century fiction and pagan myth” (‘Robin Hood’, Wikipedia). World expert on Robin Hood literature Stephen Knight described it as “the most innovative and influential version of the myth in recent times”. A haunting soundtrack by Clannad helped the “moody and atmospheric” vibe of Robin of Sherwood. Personally, I’m a bit partial to a more recent Robin Hood series (2006-09), largely for Keith Allen’s high camp, deeply sarcastic performance, replete with a range of exaggerated often incredulous facial gestures as the Sheriff of Nottingham (one episode spoofs the Bob Marley song in its title, “Who Shot the Sheriff?”).
So deeply embedded in film and popular culture is the Robin Hood story that inevitably someone would lampoon it and that somebody was Mel Brooks in his 1993 parody Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Brooks makes fun of other (serious) iterations of RH like Costner’s Prince of Thieves. In fact Brooks has already roamed into this territory in television in 1975 with his sitcom on Hood and co, When Things Were Rotten. Both were replete with one-liners, sight gags, literal humour and anachronisms (something the non-humorous versions were also very prone to).
One of the funniest alternative iterations of Robin Hood came out of late Eighties children’s television. Creator Tony Robinson‘s Maid Marian and her Merry Men as the title suggests inverts the roles of the legend…Marian is the de facto leader and the brains of the Sherwood Forest outlaws, while Robin, an incompetent ex-tailor (“Robin of Kensington”) is a complete airhead. Another comic inversion of the traditional legend seen here and in Men in Tights is the presentation of Robin as being far from heroic.
Postscript: Political Hood The Adventures of Robin Hood TV series was clearly intended as good fun, a vehicle of commercial escapist entertainment, nonetheless buried in the storyline are snatches of political commentary on contemporary events in the UK during the strait-jacketed postwar decade after 1945. An analogy can be made between Robin’s return from serving in the Crusades to find his property and titles confiscated, and the shabby treatment of British veterans returning from the WWII conflagration. The Adventures‘ political messages were not confined to contemporary Britain. The TV program was the brainchild of a blacklisted US producer Hannah Weinstein. Weinstein hired leftist American writers such as Ring Lardner Jr similarly persecuted by the McCarthyism scourge in the US. Lardner and the others were not slow to draw comparisons between the fictional Robin Hood’s plight and their own ongoing victimisation by the zealous American Right. According to Lardner, writing for the show afforded “plenty of opportunities for oblique social comment on (the assault on liberties in) Eisenhower-era America” (Allen W.Wright, ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood 1950s TV Series Page 2’, (Sept 2005), Robin Hood: Bold Outlaw of Barnsdale and Sherwood, Spotlight, www.boldoutlaw.com).
(Illustration: Diana Morales/MPA)
⇧ The filibuster phenomena continues to provide political cartoonists in the US with endless inspiration
(Image: www.davegranlund.com)
(Photo: NY Post)
(Image: Lonely Planet)
Dracula’s transformation into a classic of the Gothic horror genre captured the imagination of film-makers, inspiring numerous silver-screen interpretations of Dracula – from the silent German feature Nosferatu to countless Western film versions which made actors such as Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee famous – and typecast. The Dracula character’s pervasion of especially American popular culture has seen the trope extend to parody cartoon versions on TV (Duckula), to female teen “vampire-slayers” (Buffy) and even to “blaxploitation” movies asserting the emergence of a self-conscious black culture in the US (eg, Blacula). 
Constructing the Ur-vampire
Transylvania, being to outsiders, “a mysterious land of vampires and other supernatural things”, handed down a long tradition of folklore and legends, it’s not surprising that Stoker drew on this source for inspire and inform his vampire story. Superstitions and beliefs of Romanian peasants in Stoker’s time fuelled a plentiful supply of tales about vampiri (vampires), vârcolaci (werewolves) and other supernatural monstri. Stoker’s library research would also have acquainted him with the strigol, a Romanian figure of legend—“a reckless spirit that returns to suck the lifeblood from his relatives”—the type of vampirish “undead souls” that would find a place in Stoker’s horror novel [‘The Use of History in Dracula Tourism in Romania’, (Tuomas Hovi), www.folklore.ee].
⇧ Whitby, England (Image credit: www.visitwhitby.com)
↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↝↜↜↝↜↝↜
(Photo: Britannica)
In his lifetime Fleming never said definitively who the principal model for 007 was, but the consensus seems to gravitate towards a Serbian double agent Dušan (‘Duško) Popov, someone Fleming came across in the course of his own intelligence career. A famous scene in Casino Royale (Fleming’s first James Bond novel) further advances the association of the world’s most celebrated fictional spy with Popov. Bond’s besting of a powerful Russian criminal at the baccarat table in Casino Estoril (Portugal) in the book/film mirrors an exchange Fleming observed first-hand when the real-life spy spectacularly called the bluff of a boastful Lithuanian gambler in a baccarat game at the same location.
Popov stumbled into the espionage game after being arrested by the Gestapo. To get out of that pickle Popov agreed to spy for the Abwehr (German intelligence agency). While in England he was recruited by MI6 and turned double agent✫. During the war Popov managed to feed a steady stream of misinformation to the Nazis about the Allies’ movements, strength, etc. Most productive for the Allies was his role in Operation Fortitude – Popov helped to convince German military planners that the D-Day invasion of France would occur in Pas de Calais, not Normandy, the actual landing point. As a consequence of Popov’s disinformation, when Operation Overlord was launched in 1944 there were seven German divisions stuck in Calais and unavailable to the Reichswehr in Normandy [‘My name is Popov, Duran Popov’, (Marta Levai), www.0011info.com].
(Image: Getty)
(Source: www.newspapers.com)
When testosterone-charged visitors to coastal Belgian towns began strolling around the shops and cafes bare-chested in 2015, locals objecting to this aesthetic blight on the landscape took to labelling the offending blow-ins “Tarzan tourists”. References to that archetypical, mesomorphic white hero of amorphous jungle habitats, Tarzan, have permeated popular culture for over a century. Since the time pencil-sharpener salesman Edgar Rice Burroughs (ERB) turned his hand to writing his first story in 1912, the aura of Tarzan, carefully cultivated by the author into a cultural icon, has extended from pulp fiction, to various media including comic strips, films (over 90!), radio shows, TV series, Broadway musicals, computer games and a raft of commercial merchandise
(Source: www.movieposters.ha.com)
Mention “The Ten Commandments” to cinephiles and almost invariably they’ll think of the 1956 epic with Chuck Heston as the resolute Moses. But that was Cecil B DeMille’s second attempt at filming the Old Testament story, or his (Cold War-inspired) interpretation of it at least. Back when Hollywood was still in it’s adolescence, 1923, DeMille made a silent version of The Ten Commandments, in black and white with some sequences in Technicolor.
(Image: www.bestplaces.com)
(Source: G-N Dune Center)
(Photo:www.fws.gov)
From near Changchun’s central train station we waved down a cab to take us to the site of Changchun’s cinematic claim to glory in China, the Jilin province city’s pioneering film studios. Although it looked fairly close on Google Maps it took an eternity to get to the former movie site of CFS, Changchun Film Studios. Road distance in China is measured in the conventional way by metric length, but also by the number of motor vehicles they’re are between point A (where you are) and point B (where you want to go).
The setting for the film studios is an impressive one. From the street front you enter a big green park and walk up a grand, sweeping drive. At the top of the drive is the film studio complex, but before you reach the studio entrance, you have to contend with Mao Tse-tung. There he is, “the Chairman” standing erect, as he was in life, larger than the life of any one Chinese person. A gigantic, white statue of Mao, waving benignly at every human figure passing within the shadow of his massive, immovable image※.
It was quite late in the day by now but we were still keen after travelling that far, to see inside the CFS Factory/Museum. The callow youth on the turnstiles gate had other ideas…he point-blank refused us entry because it was after 4 o’clock, less than an hour till the museum closed. Unable to dissuade him, we went away disgruntled but decided to explore the outside parts of the site anyway.
This bore unexpected fruit as we discovered a nice little courtyard adjacent to the factory with an overt military touch (statues of heroic patriotic types and other martial figures, battle-green painted artillery guns, etc). The factory’s military theme is continued in the forecourt which exhibits a fighter plane of 1950s vintage.
Before leaving altogether we chanced a quick look-through of the CFS gift shop which was still open. This proved a fortuitous diversion on our part…while unenthusiastically perusing the shop’s uninspiring assortment of predictable souvenirs on the shelves we noticed a side door ajar which we took advantage of by slipping through it and into the exhibits area. Thus, through a combination of arse-lucky opportunism and devious initiative we did gain entry to the factory after all and for gratis! 
The public CFS Studios display comprised a long, darkly-lit corridor which threw the lighted exhibits down one side into relief. These exhibits were a miscellany of items reflecting the film company’s past productions, the result undoubtedly of a raid on the props department and the costume wardrobes (old military weapons, uniforms and paraphernalia), old style 35mm film cameras and sound recording machines, etc.
The military theme of the factory exhibition was further underscored in the choice of film posters to display…war movies galore! The impression that CFS’ most popular movie genre was war was hard to ignore on this evidence.
Peaking inside a few of the rooms running off the main corridor revealed that the complex was still a hub for contemporary film-making. Production tech staff could be seen working on documentary and TV projects using modern technical equipment (not the antique stuff in the corridor).
Another room off the corridor held a small viewing theatre…surprisingly to me the projector was running a 1930s British B & W film starring Larry Olivier (not dubbed into Chinese and no one watching!). Elsewhere in the room there were pictures and bios of Chinese film-makers, dubbers and other behind-the-camera personnel who had made a contribution at CFS Films during its halcyon days.
The props displayed were for the most part interesting and authentic-looking (authentically old too!), but I did find the stuffed tiger mounted and encased in glass right at the end of the passageway rather incongruous and something that didn’t add to the CFS collection.Changchun Film Studio Group Corporation (Ch: 长春电影集团公司) (to give it its formal title) was the first film production unit registered by the PRC in 1949 after the communist victory. Changchun Film Studios was chosen to fill the cinema production void left by the Japanese Manchukuo Film Association and the Northeast Film Studio. The Corporation also operates the somewhat maligned Changchun Film Theme Park elsewhere in the city.
Greater Union (henceforth GUT) was involved in all forms of the movie business – production, distribution and exhibition. The Bondi Studios made a few silent films in the late 1920s, like The Adorable Outcast and most notably The Term of His Natural Life which cost £60,000 and bombed badly at the box office [‘Cinesound Productions’, Sydney Morning Herald, 06-Aug-1934 (Trove).
Stuart F Doyle, GUT managing director, appointed former film publicist Ken G Hall as general manager of the newly formed Cinesound Productions. Two more Cinesound studio locations were opened, one at nearby Rushcutters Bay and the other at St Kilda (in Melbourne). Over an eight-year period (1932-40), with Hall at the helm as producer-director, Cinesound produced 17 feature films (16 of which were directed by Hall). The first of the sequence, On Our Selection, revolved round the adventures of one of Australian cinema’s most popular characters, Dad Rudd and his family. The film, benefiting from a new sound-recording system invented in Tasmania, was a box office triumph for Cinesound, earning £46,000 in Australia and New Zealand by the end of 1933, providing a tremendous fillip for the fledgling studios [Andrew Pike & Ross Cooper, Australian Film 1900-1977: A Guide to Feature Film Production, (1998)].
Cinesound and Hall exploited On Our Selection’s popularity with a series of sequels, Grandad Rudd, Dad and Dave Come to Town and Dad Rudd, MP. Of these the ‘Dad and Dave’ entry especially proved a hit, matching the profitability of the original movie.
↗ Ken G Hall (centre) with American actress Helen Twelvetrees during filming of ‘Thoroughbred’ (photo: Mitchell Library)
⬆️ Australian cinema’s long tradition of Bushranger flicks beginning with the original 1906 feature film
With the outbreak of world war Cinesound called a halt on feature film production. During the war years the studios directed all energies into making newsreels, initially covering the war against Japan and beyond that on all aspects of Australiana.Newsreel rivalry: Cinesound Vs Movietone: the focus on newsreels by Cinesound was not a novel innovation. From its outset Cinesound produced newsreels – short documentary films containing news stories and items of topical interest – in competition with the rival Fox Movietone company. The two newsreels differed in content, Cinesound concentrated on Australian only topics while Movietone covered a mix of international and national news✤.
Newsreels in Australia prior to 1956 occupied a unique place in media and communications. Before the introduction of television, cinema-goers’ exposure to newsreels (part of the “warm-up” for the main feature) were the only images Australians saw of their land – the footage of elections, natural disasters and other such events [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.]. Thus, newsreels like the Cinesound Review, with its distinctive red kangaroo symbol, were an important source of news and current affairs, and were an integral part of the cinema program [‘Cinesound Movietone Australian Newsreels’, (ASO) (Poppy De Souza), www.aso.gov.au]✙. According to Anthony Buckley, the newsreels reflected Ken G Hall’s “pride and spirited nationalism” [Buckley, A, ‘Obituary: Ken G. Hall’, The Independent (London), 17-Feb-1994].
Ken G Hall in his autobiography contended that Cinesound Productions never lost money on any feature films. Some did very well – crime drama The Silence of Dean Maitland, for instance, for an outlay of £10,000 returned takings of more than £70,000 in Australia and the UK [Graham Shirley & Brian Adams, Australian Cinema: The First Eighty Years, (1989)]. One Cinesound movie however, strictly-speaking, probably did lose money…Roy Rene’s single venture into celluloid, Strike Me Lucky, in which ‘Mo’s’ humour, robbed of it’s spontaneity in live performance didn’t translate well to the big screen and was reflected in negative critical reviews and at the box office [Film Review: ‘Strike Me Lucky’, Sydney Morning Herald, 19-Nov-1934 (Trove)]. Despite Hall’s faith in the studios’ films, from 1937 there was a decline in box office returns (prompting GUT head Doyle to resign). Another (external) factor affecting Cinesound profitability occurred in 1938 with the passing of the Cinematograph Films Act in the UK…under this legislation Australian films no longer counted as local, their removal from the British quota meant a loss of market for Cinesound and other Australian movie producers [Waverley Lib, loc.cit.].
⬆️ ‘Smithy’ star Ron Randell later pursued a career in Hollywood
Note: the original 1930s studios in West London (above) were bought by the BBC in the 1990s and resurrected as a facility for hire [‘Remembering Ealing Studios and the golden age of British film’, BBC News, (Vincent Dowd), 30-Aug-2015, www.bbc.com].
One of the iconic historic associations with the hills of Appalachia is the fateful conflict in the last quarter of the 19th century between two mountain-dwelling families – the Hatfields and the McCoys. The feud between the two “warring clans” has tended to be wrapped in the veneer of legend, obscured by the myth-making of popular culture over the decades. The McCoy-Hatfield feud has featured in a raft of US books, songs, comic strips, feature movies and television shows (with both animated and human content)✱. These overwhelmingly fictionalised narratives of the Hatfields and the McCoys have vouchsafed a place for them in the annals of American folklore and at the same time contributed to the caricatured impression of ‘hillbillies’ in the popular consciousness.
Tug Fork Valley and the family patriarchs
In the 19th century the McCoys lived (as they do today) on the Kentucky side of Tug Fork (a tributary of the Big Sandy River), with the Hatfields residing on the other side of the river (in West Virginia). The Hatfield patriarch was William Anderson Hatfield, widely known as ‘Devil Anse’, while the patriarch of the McCoys was Randolph McCoy (sometimes identified as ‘Randall’ McCoy). Of the two families the Hatfields were appreciably more affluent than the McCoys (Devil Anse’s profitable timber business employed many men including some McCoys).
Background to the feud
The earliest incident between the two families seemed to have occurred during the Civil War…in 1865 Asa Harmon McCoy, who fought with the Union during the war, was ambushed and killed by members of a local Confederate militia connected to the Hatfield family. Some have identified the feud’s genesis in the murder, but Harmon McCoy’s siding with the North (while almost all of the McCoys and the Hatfields gave their allegiances to the Confederacy) made him unpopular with both families. His death did not trigger a reprisal and most historians have concluded that the incident was a stand-alone event [‘The Hatfield & McCoy Feud’, History, www.history.com].
Escalation and denouement of the feud
By now “bad blood” was endemic between the families. In the years after 1882 the conflict escalated dramatically…killings met with counter-killings (more than 12 members or associates of the two families died during the decade). A Hatfield raid on the McCoy patriarch’s farm in 1888 – known as the ‘New Year Night’s Massacre’ – resulted in the murder of two of Randolph McCoy’s children. The subsequent Battle of the Grapevine Creek, an attempt by the Hatfields to take out the McCoys once and for all, resulted in an ambush gone wrong…the tables were turned on the Hatfield raiders and the bulk of their number were arrested. Over the next few years they were tried and all given jail sentences (except one, possibly a ‘scapegoat’, who was executed). The ill feelings slowly dissipated with the conclusion of the trials and the conflict receded from memory – in 1890 the New York Times reported that the feud was at an end (there was in fact still the odd simmering flare-up such as in the mid 1890s but the potentially explosive incidents were effectively over) [‘A Long Feud Ended’, NYT, 06-Sep-1890, www.rarenewspapers.com].
⇧ Hatfield clan 1890s
Matewan (WV) wall illustration: ⬆ depicting the Hatfield-McCoy feud
Tewksbury homestead
In popular currency the notion of the hillbilly has an overwhelmingly pejorative connotation anywhere within the reach of American culture (ie, everywhere!), especially as a topic of discussion or comment outside the American South. The stereotype is deeply embedded in and has been perpetuated through the agency of American popular culture – in literature, there have been long-running hillbilly comic strips ridiculing country folk as basically “dumber than dumb”, especially seen in ‘Li’l Abner’ and ‘Snuffy Smith’ (at left). But the idea of hillbillies as backward, ornery and all the other negative connotations associated with them, has been nowhere more pervasive than on the celluloid screen, both big and small.
The perception given by popular cinema and television comedy is that hillbillies can be found in a loosely defined geographical region somewhere in the American South. If need arises in a storyline to pinpoint their location more precisely, screenwriters will tend to locate them in mountainous areas, and if named it will usually be in one of two southern physiographic regions, either the Ozarks (extending over parts of Arkansas, Mississippi, Oklahoma and Kansas) or the massive Appalachians (several systems of mountains but usually “Appalachian hillbillies” are depicted as coming from Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia and West Virginia, and (parts of) Ohio)✥.
The Ozarks (“Hillibilly haven”) ⬆️
The South is “a different country”: More audience fodder for Hollywood
In the television age Hollywood’s “go-to” take on hillbillies typically utilises the persona for pure comic intent, mercilessly exposing and ridiculing the (usually) working class hillbilly for his or her wilful ignorance, lack of education and sophistication, depicting him or her as “pre-modern and ignorant hillbillies” (in Anthony Harkins’ words) to create, “one of the more lasting and pervasive images in American popular iconography” [Harkins, op.cit.]. Given that areas like Appalachia with its coal-dependent economy are cyclically prone to recurrent “booms and busts”, poverty is a familiar reality for very many of those residing in such places, accordingly Hollywood has traditionally seen hillbillies as soft targets, comfortable in showing up their unworldliness and illiteracy for a laugh…the Beverly Hillbillies of that popular American TV comedy of the same name are “dirt-poor” until Jed makes a fortuitous discovery on their ‘worthless’ land which transforms the ‘Hicksville’ family into “oil-rich tycoons”.
‘Monstrous mountaineers’ and other ‘psychopaths’
The comedic hillbilly has proved a rich source of material for movies and television, but as a variant from time to time Hollywood has also presented a very different, menacing on-screen hillbilly persona – the classic cinematic example of this is perhaps the 1972 Deliverance movie. Deliverance portrays hillbillies as sadistic, lawless types bereft of any semblance of moral compass, ‘inbred’✪ nefarious individuals who commit acts which are both morally and sexually depraved⍍. In hillbilly movies of this type, in place of the benign and fun-loving “Good Ol’ Boys”, are more brooding and sinister Southerners, sometimes isolated loners, psychotic serial-killers and even corrupt sheriffs. Meredith McCarroll, in a study focusing on the Appalachians [Unwhite: Appalachia, Race and Film, (2018)], has identified several distinct tropes of hillbilly movies. McCarroll’s typology includes Monstrous Mountaineer [Deliverance, Wrong Turn (2003), Timber Halls (2007)]; Heroic Highlander [Next of Kin (1982)], Killing Season (2013); Lazy Hillbilly [Our Hospitality (1923), Kentucky Moonshine (1938)]✜.
Escaping to an imagined and idealised South
Hollywood’s hillbilly stereotypes extend to a romanticisation of the hillbilly, often their lives are romanticised as simple and uncomplicated (much as native and Black Americans and Mexicans are!). The hillbilly is shown as backward and quaintly pre-industrial, embodied in the famous river bank scene in Deliverance of hillbillies lazing about with nothing better to do than mindlessly pluck banjos [McCarroll, op.cit.]. Allied to this perception, Hollywood’s hillbilly tropes are a component of “using the South as a foil for modern life”…for Americans living in the Sixties and Seventies it was a confrontational time, full of harsh realities and worrying big issues such as the conflict over the Vietnam War, race riots, poverty and the Cold War. Feeding the viewing public a diet of idyllic and irenic images of Southern harmony, a distorted sense of life not being too serious, provided a palatable form of escapism for Americans in the big cities. So we got shows like The Andy Griffith Show, Petticoat Junction, Green Acres and The Dukes of Hazzard, presenting fictional Southern ‘Hicksville’ towns with names like ‘Mayberry’ and ‘Hooterville’, peopled by harmless hayseed sheriffs and shopkeepers [‘The Weird History of Hillbilly TV’, (Gabe Bullard), www.bittersoutherner.com].
‘Hicksploitation’ reality obsession
In the age of reality TV saturating our screens, the subject matter of hillbillies has far from abated. The trope has perpetuated itself within this sub-genre of television with a string of titles pitched fairly and squarely at the LCD in society…Swamp People, Moonshiners, Bayou Billionaires, Hillbilly Handfishin’, American Hoggers, and even Lady Hoggers, as well primus inter pares, the much-hyped docu-drama Duck Dynasty. Reality hillbilly shows keep faith with the standard formula, peopled with folk who are not exactly what you’d call cerebral, rather they are raucous, profane, intolerant, “anything goes” ‘rednecks’…so lots of guns around, wild animals of various kinds, ‘Down-South” stills producing copious amounts of “sly grog”, “hunting-and-a-fishing”, excessive facial hair, Confederate flags, lack of respect for authority, etc. Despite the often appalling and sometimes degrading behaviour exhibited in “redneck reality TV”, viewers continue to subscribe in meaningful numbers to this brand of “televisional fare”. Testimony perhaps to the fact that “people will (always) tune in to see themselves on screen or the extremes of another culture” [“‘Redneck’ reality TV is one big ‘Party'”, (Patrick Ryan), USA Today, 09-Dec-2014, www.usatoday.com].
✱ the Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture points out that the word ‘hillbilly’ is often used interchangeably with several other derogatory epithets – eg, ‘redneck’, ‘white trash’ and ‘cracker’
⌑ despite being depicted as quintessential ‘hillbillies’ (as defined by popular culture), Ma and Pa Kettle, both in the original book and in the films live in a rural locale somewhere in Washington state…not Appalachia or the Ozarks or anywhere in the South (although one of the series entries is The Kettles in the Ozarks). Not confining itself to the negative profiling of hillbillies, the Kettle movies delve even deeper into stereotypes with a thorough “hatchet job” on the series’ two dim American ‘Indian’ characters – ‘Crowbar’ and ‘Geoduck’
✥ although people labelled as ‘hillbillies’ don’t necessarily have to live in the mountains per se to be thus categorised
✪ remember, Elvis made a ‘hillbilly’ movie called Kissin’ Cousins
⍍ we see through Hollywood’s lens suggestions of promiscuity, of inbreeding, bestiality, all manner of sexual deviance, attributed to the on-screen hillbilly [Hall, loc.cit]. To balance the negative slant slightly, as Tom Porter notes, on rarer occasions screen depictions do exist which present mountaineers more positively – as rugged and even heroic folk living outside societal norms living independently on their wits (somewhat akin to filmic representations of the “Wild West” prior to the 1970s), Porter, loc.cit.]
✜ McCarroll also nominates an infinitely smaller list of “hillbilly movies” which manage, to greater or lesser degree, to avoid the standard stereotypes [eg, Winter’s Bone (2010), Norma Rae (1979), Matewan (1987)]
BF – before Felix…
Felix, the anthropomorphic black cat with the massive white eyes and the broadest of broad grins, was not the first animated cat to grace the screens of movie theatres. That honour went to a mouser called Krazy Kat, the conception of cartoonist George Herriman…first appearing as a comic strip character in the New York Evening Journal, Krazy Kat debuted on movie screens in 1916 in a silent short featuring the eponymous cat and his brick-throwing ‘frenemy’ Ignatz Mouse.
Master Tom, prototype
Not long after, Felix had his beginnings in the prototype form of Thomas Cat. In 1917 Australian cartoonist Pat Sullivan produced a short, animated silent film about a black cat, The Tail of Thomas Cat, through his own New York studio. By 1919 ‘Thomas Cat’ had morphed into ‘Master Tom’ in the short Feline Follies. After a follow-up entry (The Musical Mews) again starring Master Tom, Sullivan’s third short of 1919 (Adventures of Felix the Cat) changed the name of the ‘Tom’ character to the name he would henceforth be universally known as – Felix. Despite the seemingly clear lineage between Thomas Cat and Felix, some American animation historians discredit the connexion, citing Thomas Cat’s non-anthropomorphised nature, the uncertainty of his fur colour, the fact that he loses his tail fighting a rooster without ever being able to recover it (cf. the difference with Felix who can magically transform his tail into other forms) [‘Felix the Cat – McGill CS’, www.cs.mcgill.ca].
Conflicting stories of Felix’s origin
Sullivan maintained all along that he was the creator – on a visit back to Australia in 1925 he told the Melbourne Argus newspaper that the idea for Felix had come to him when his wife brought a stray cat into Sullivan’s studio one day (as was her wont). On other occasions he said that the inspiration came from a Rudyard Kipling story, ‘The Cat that Walked by Himself’. For the name of his cartoon creation Sullivan explained that he had drawn on his native Antipodes… Australia Felix was a term in use from the 19th century to describe the western districts of the state of Victoria (also later the name of an Australian novel by Henry Handel Richardson). Another source for the cat’s name came from a contemporary fellow cartoonist – appearing in print in 1936 the cartoonist affirmed that Sullivan told him that he derived the name from a black West Indian-born boxer living and fighting in Australia called Peter Felix whom Sullivan was acquainted with (the animator being a big enthusiast of boxing) [Pat Sullivan – I made the cat and the cat made me’, www.vixenmagazine.com].
Contesting Felix
Not surprisingly the strongest argument for endorsing Sullivan as Felix’s true creator comes from Australia, the animator-cum-entrepreneur’s homeland. Australian cartoonists, including some who knew Sullivan, have drawn attention to a comment during an interview when he visited Sydney in 1925 (quoted in the local papers): Sullivan stated that his practice was to ‘do the “key drawings” and leave the rest to a staff’ [Vixen Magazine, op.cit.]. Moreover, the Australian Cartoonist Association have argued that the distinctive lettering style of Sullivan can be detected on the Felix artwork, eg, in Feline Follies (Felix’s first incarnation), the lettering used matches examples of Sullivan’s handwriting. Additionally, certain speech bubbles in the short uses expressions and terms which have distinctive Australian usage, especially ” ‘Lo Mum! “. Australian animators, argue that had Otto Messmer conceived and created the prototype Felix film, as he claimed in 1977, he would have used the traditional American form of shorthand for mother, ‘mom’ (not ‘mum’) and he would not have dropped the ‘h’ in ‘hello’ which is more characteristically Australian or British◰. [‘Reclaiming Felix the Cat in the Picture Gallery’, (Judy Nelson, Exhibition, 1-May to 7-Aug 2005, State Library of NSW, Sydney), www.pandora.nla.gov.au]
Animator Ub Iwerks drawing animated rodent extraordinaire, M Mouse ▶PostScript A: Felix, a template worth copying One green-eyed embryonic animator in the US in the mid-Twenties very much aware of Felix’s ascending star was Walt Disney. Disney’s earliest innovation in the field was his Alice Comedies where he inserted a human figure “Alice of Wonderland” into an animated landscape. As foil to Alice, the main animated figure in these shorts was Julius, a cat with a particularly strong resemblance to Felix…basically a clone of Felix [‘Felix the Cat’, (Ian Gordon), St James Encyclopaedia of Popular Culture (2002)]. Disney’s later followed up Julius with Oswald the Lucky Rabbit (a product he ultimately lost creative control of) and then lucked in again, hitting the jackpot with Mickey Mouse…Oswald and Mickey were both different animals to Felix but again the physical similarities to the (original) Felix are there – albeit with reshaped faces and ears.
1001 Nights archetype city
‘Sword of Ali Baba’ (1965): Robin Hoodesque Ali
1940 British production values
‘Arabian Nights’ (1942)
‘Sinbad the Sailor’ (1947): D Fairbanks Jnr doing his best “Errol Flynn impersonation” – Sinbad as romantic swashbuckler!
X-rated ‘Arabian Nights’, the Pasolini Arabesque 
Mr Magoo’s ‘1001 Arabian Nights’ animated feature
Aladdin, he of the lamp with remarkable transformative powers, has been well served cinematically in animation features, viz a Soviet (Russian) fantasy version of Volshebnaya lampa Aladdina/Aladdin’s Magic Lamp in 1966; a French version, Aladin et la Lampe Merveilleuse/Aladdin and His Magic Lamp in 1970. There has even been a Japanese manga anime feature on the 1001 Nights theme, Doraemon: Nobita’s Dorarabian Nights (1991).The Harem Girls’ pool shot in the 1942 film
DQ & Sancho Panza
Orson on the DQ set
The doco on DQ the disaster movie!
Michael Palin was one of many actors lost in transit in the course of making Gilliam’s film!
___________________________________________________________________
❉ its literary influence goes far beyond the Hispanic world…extending to his English contemporary Shakespeare who is widely thought to have collaborated with John Fletcher on a play (now lost), Cardenio, believed to be based on an episode in the Cervantes novel
✫ Disney still haven’t entirely let it go…the phenomenal box office triumph of the Pirates of the Caribbean series has prompted Disney to engage ‘gun’ screenwriter Billy Ray to write something similar in tone for Don Quixote, ‘Disney Developing a Don Quixote Movie’, (J Kroll) Variety, 13-Oct-2016, www.variety.com
Over recent months Sydney “Pub Tsar” Justin Hemmes’ Merivale Group acquired the Collaroy Hotel on Pittwater Road for a reported $21 million⋇. The hotel (currently closed for renovation) is situated in one of the Northern Beaches’ finest old and best preserved buildings, the Arlington Amusement Hall✦. A hotel since the late 1990s the Arlington’s premises has traded under various names including ‘The Collaroy’ and the ‘Surf Rock Hotel’. Earlier than this the building had housed the Northern Beaches’ first wine bar called ‘1066’. The building also contains the separate Collaroy Beach Club.
(Photo: Northern Beaches Council)
The Collaroy in 2017The Arlington in the 1920s
Yahoo!Movies described The Conqueror as “the most toxic movie ever made”…tarnishing the careers of those who appeared in this egregious stinker, especially its star John Wayne, effectively bankrupting RKO Pictures (costing a blown-out $6 million) and contributing to the deaths of an inordinate number of its cast and crew².
John Wayne, faced with the need to fulfil the third and final picture of his contract with RKO, apparently fished the discarded script out of the rubbish bin and convinced the assigned director Dick Powell (who in turn convinced RKO’s owner Howard Hughes) to make the film with Wayne playing the role as Mongol warlord Genghis Khan (a role intended apparently for Marlon Brando). By all accounts Wayne was grossly miscast⋇, interpreting the great Mongol leader as a cowboy (probably an entirely natural notion for the Duke!). The script (by Oscar Millard) was terrible and vacuous as the following inane, awkward samples of the dialogue illustrate:
Snow Canyon, radioactive movie set
The film’s producers (Hughes and Powell) were aware of the proximity of the atomic testing before shooting started but had been assured by the government that the atomic tests posed no risks to public health, a gross deception (self-deception?). Compounding the dilemma, at the end of the location work Hughes ordered that 60 tons of the radioactive reddy-brown dirt from the Snow Canyon site in Utah be carted back to the RKO film set at Culver City for re-takes!
(Photo: Mansfield News Journal)
Marsha does Jane Austen
With her reputation unfairly besmirched (tantamount to no more than implicit guilt by association!), Hunt was punished by being inexorably squeezed out of the Hollywood film mainstream. Potential parts in A-movies disappeared and the public saw her relegated to B-pictures and eventually to television and theatre (few good roles in theatrical movies came her way after 1947, the 1948 film noir Raw Deal and the much later Johnny Got His Gun (1971) were rare exceptions for the Chicago-born actress).
Marsha Hunt today(Source: Alt Film Art)
Many, many things did go wrong on the set, including costs…the MGM musical/fantasy came in over budget at a cost of $2.8 million. This in part reflects The Wizard of Oz’s disjointed trajectory – going through five directors including King Vidor, George Cukor and Richard Thorpe and 14 screenwriters in the course of the production. The movie’s ultimate director Victor Fleming (who also directed the other great Hollywood film of 1939 Gone With The Wind) was widely suspected of Nazi sympathies.
Judy as Kansas Dot in Oz
The curse for a time seemed to continue post-release. Although The Wizard of Oz is universally celebrated today as a classic of the cinema, it did not meet with immediate acclaim from either the public or critics. These reservations did not start to turn around until the CBS television network reintroduced the movie to the wider public in 1956. In 1989 the US Library of Congress nominated The Wizard of Oz as “the most-viewed motion picture on television syndication” [‘The Wizard of Oz (1939 film)’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. Countless scores of viewers of the joyous spectacle of ‘Oz’ over the years would have been blissfully unaware of the unhappy, off-screen events that relentlessly dogged the production.
Hardy and Aldrich each had his own distinctive and characteristic expressions, these verbal calling cards were often reiterated throughout each movie…Andy Hardy, when in ebullient mood, would chirpily respond to Polly Benedict or to another of his many, simultaneous love interests with “You said it, toots!” Henry Aldrich is universally remembered for the opening exchange with his mother who bellows: “Hen-reeeeeeeeeeeee! Hen-ree Al-drich!”, to which Henry from upstairs would haltingly and tremulously reply, “Com-ing, Mother!”
The first Andy Hardy film was released in 1937, A Family Affair with 15 more following within a decade, plus a less successful ‘reunion’ film in 1958 focusing on Andy’s return, full circle, to Carvel to take up his father’s old judicial post. The character of Henry Aldrich first surfaced in a Broadway play What a Life in 1938 (playwright: Clifford Goldsmith)…from there in span off into fourteen years of very popular radio (1939-53), four years of television (1949-53), a series of ten movies, and an uncountable number of comic books, musical scores, pin-ups, games, and toys.
✳ in 1939 Mickey Rooney was the number one box office star in American films, a position he retained for the following three years, Source: ‘Top Box Office Stars: 1932-1939 (Part 1)’, (Classic Film Guru), https://classicfilmguru.wordpress.com/2013/08/08/the-box-office-stars-1932-to-1939-part-1/
Where the Gainsborough Pictures/Islington Studios once stood (in Hoxton, North London), today sits blocks of luxury flats built in 2004. As a token gesture the name ‘Gainsborough’ remains on the units’ facade but the only other indicator that it is the site of a former film studio is a 6.5m high courtyard sculpture of Alfred Hitchcock whose first exposure to the movie industry was at Islington … the work of art enigmatically depicting ‘Hitch’ as a gigantic head❈.
Edward Black and the costume melodramas
After Gaumont went into bankruptcy Balcon left Gaumont in 1936 for MGM-British (and later Ealing Studios). Gaumont-British ceased production for several years but Gainsborough was saved by a rescue package put together by CM Woolf and J Arthur Rank (partners of General Film Distributors)[6]. From the late thirties producer Edward Black came to Gaumont/Gainsborough and the subsequent type of productions the studios made reflected Black’s “unerring sense of British popular taste”. One of his earliest successes was with Bank Holiday (1938), directed by Carol Reed and Margaret Lockwood, soon to become Britain’s leading screen actress回. Black used ex-Music Hall performers like Will Hays and Arthur Askey for Islington’s light comedies. Gainsborough Pictures also afforded opportunities to the versatile Launder and Gilliat writer-director team to showcase their collaborative skills.
The two co-wrote The Lady Vanishes, a 1938 mystery which was a breakthrough feature for Alfred Hitchcock❈. Interestingly both Launder and Gilliat (hereafter L & G) had their (separate) starts in the film business composing inter-titles (title cards) for silent movies in the late 1920s, the same industry beginnings undertaken by Hitchcock several years earlier. L & G combined their talents behind-the-camera together for the first time from the mid 1930s. The L & G partnership had a flexibility and a particular pattern to it … invariably they would jointly produce films and/or also co-write screenplays (although on other occasions either man would co-write films with various other collaborating screenwriters). But almost with very few exceptions one or the other would direct a specific film singly – this was done apparently to avoid confusing the actors[1].
A versatile¤ and fecund partnership
As well as being prolific contributors to the creation of British films for such a long period, L & G’s film output spanned a range of genres … from thrillers and ‘whodunits’ like Green for Danger (1956) and Secret State (1950) to WWII social-realism films such as Waterloo Road (1944) and Millions Like Us (1943) to romance/adventures like The Blue Lamp (1949) to historical dramas such as Captain Boycott (1947) to farces like The Green Man (1956) and light comedies such as The Happiest Days of Your Life (1950), a precursor to a popular series of movies set in a girls’ boarding school immobilised by riotous juvenile anarchy – starting with The Belles of St Trinian’s (1954) which spawned a string of increasingly predictable sequels.
The war-time pictures, Millions Like Us and Two Thousand Women can be identified as reflecting in particular Frank Launder’s preoccupation with the portrayal of strong, defiantly independent women[6]. These films were commissioned by the UK Ministry of Information to counter the prevailing low recruitment and morale of women in war-time factory work. Millions Like Us, as Judy Suh has noted, conveyed the “double valence of women as productive workers and domestic symbols of national unity”. L & G’s social-realist films, though propagandist in purpose, posed questions of gender and class whilst depicting the routine of ordinary people at work. The necessities of war-time brought out the conflicting roles and identities of women in such an out-of-the ordinary circumstance, as well as the existence of crossings of class boundaries[7].
Sound movies in, silent films out: an “overnight sensation” which took several years to happen
The Jazz Singer was a calculated gamble by Warner Bros which was in a financially precarious position at the time, but it turned out to be a ‘game-changer’ for the then minnow studio Warners and for cinema’s future as a whole … its positive reception signalled that audiences wanted sound. But this transformation from one type of feature film to another was no sudden event, the process away from profitable silents was a gradual process. First to emulate Warners was 20th Century Fox with its Movietone system, soon the other major studios followed the trail-blazers into sound. The big Hollywood companies tended to play it both ways at first, none of them stopped making silent films straight away. After all, how profitable talkies would become was still to be seen. In the two years following The Jazz Singer ‘s release, the major companies made a mixture of productions – some all-silent, some all-sound and some part-sound movies[3].
The ‘sound’ of silent stars
From the perspective of the actors, especially those who had established their niche in the silent era, there were formidable challenges to transitioning to the new, sound medium. Acting in sound movies and the whole dynamic was different, they discovered, sometimes to their cost. Actors now had to memorise their lines beforehand, and on set they had to not stray far from the microphones, basically stand still and recite their lines clearly. The voice became THE issue for many established silent stars … a number of Hollywood actors could not make the transition❉. Some with heavy foreign accents like Emil Jannings, Vilma Banky and Pola Negri had voices that sounded harsh, unmelodious and muffled on-screen. Other top silent stars were similarly hamstrung by their voices – John Gilbert sounded weak and squeaky on screen✾, and Clara Bow and Norma Talmadge had flat Brooklyn accents – which didn’t suit their romantic lead personas[7].
Early radio days
That same year, 1920, following on the pioneering breakthroughs in Marconi and Tesla and a host of other contributors to the development of radio[1], the first federal licence was granted in the US to radio station KDKA (owned by the Westinghouse Company) in Pittsburgh, Pa. KDKA started with sport, broadcasting prize fights and Major League Baseball.
Daggstar completely out of the box
There was so much to the creative output of Clarke comma J, and so much variety too … screenplays, film acting, radio, stage work, television, songs, books. Clarke’s art didn’t fit into any one particular mould, he was, to use Martin Luther’s expression, an “irregular planet which cannot be fixed among the stars”, always inventing, moving on and reinventing, exploring something new that had piqued his interest.
John Clarke’s sudden, most untimely death leaves a Sydney Opera House-sized hole in Australian and New Zealand satire – and I shall never forget that voice – as with Billy Bragg’s, so distinctive, and as with Joe (Dragnet) Friday’s, so deadpan matter-of-fact … or his trademark mischievous grin and the sparkle in the eyes.
Fort Ross
(photo: www.fortross.org)
Russian stamp commemorating 200th anniversary of founding of Fort Ross
Throughout the course of Salvador Dalí’s life and career it was increasingly hard to distinguish the artist from the showman-cum-self publicist and exhibitionist. Dalí was many things – artist, sculptor, photographer, clothing & object designer, film-maker, writer and poet … and in his later years a facilitator of fake copies of his own work!
Dalí with fellow Surrealist Man Ray in 1934 ⤴
A further surprise for me at the Tate ‘Dalí and Film’ exhibition was to see how small many of the Catalan’s artworks were. For example, Dalí’s 1931 work (above), the Persistence of Memory (AKA ‘Melting Clocks’), one of his most famous and most referenced paintings, stands at a mere 10″ x 13″, virtually a miniature!
‘L’elephant-giraffe’ (1965) ⤴
▪ • ▪ ‘Mr Hulot’s Holiday’
While he’s there, Hulot’s sister tries to match him up with her neighbour, a matrimonial project which is equally doomed to failure. The female neighbour is far too bourgeois in her tastes for Hulot, who is in any case a confirmed bachelor.
▪ • ▪
Tati is a dab hand at noting all of the “modern inconveniences”(sic) of contemporary Western society. Mon Oncle is a sharp commentary on the way “modern life traps humanity within its contrivances” [James Quandt, ‘Scatterbrained Angel: The Films of Jacques Tati’, From the Current – Criterion Collection, www.criterion.com] Mon Oncle, Tati’s obra maestra , won the Oscar for best foreign language film in 1959.
Although the persona of Hulot is the human thread that runs through Playtime, Tati deliberately does not allow the popular character to dominate proceedings (as tended to be the case in Mr Hulot’s Holiday and Mon Oncle) [Kent Jones,’Playtime’, From the Current – Criterion Collection, www.criterion.com] putting the focus back on ‘everybody’, ie, the observed cross-section of humanity. Tati eschews the use of close-up shots and the technique of the camera panning in for exactly the same reason. A sub-plot of Playtime follows American tourist ‘Barbara’ whose own meanderings always eventually lead her back to Hulot.
Trademark cute
There are many little gems in Playtime – the signature Tati sight gags like the blissfully unaware Hulot boarding a crowded bus grabbing on to what he thought was a handrail, immersing himself distractedly in his newspaper only to find himself again out on the footpath at the next stop because the mistaken handrail was actually the tall floor lamp of a fellow commuter who had alighted the bus with Hulot still holding on. Or the spiral neon arrow on the nightclub sign which guides the drunk straight back into the “Royal Garden” from which he has just departed … both of these sight gags are pure gold! Playtime represents the zenith, the highest expression, of Hulot’s distaste for the contemporary world of “mod cons” and gadgetry.
‘Trafic’ (1971)
Situational humour ▪ • ▪
Life in boxes: Absurdity of modernity (‘Playtime’j
▪ • ▪ François (centre) in L’École des Facteurs (‘School for Postmen’), a 1947 short which prefigured Tati’s feature film debut ▪ • ▪‘Jour de féte’ (1949)
‘The Avengers’: Gentlemen’s bowler hats & sexy black leatherwear
Hollywood domestic shock/horror & scandal 40s & 50s style
‘The Iron Petticoat’ 1956
‘Casino Royale’ 1967
The onset of the 21st century seemed to herald a revival in the epic genre in film. Large-budget “Sword-and-Sandal” movies of the early 2000s such as Gladiator and Troy, labelled “Neo-epic films” by cinema critics, have reinvigorated the genre. At the same time, a new blockbuster phenomenon in the shape of the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter series of films, padded with wall-to-wall distinguished British (and Commonwealth) actors, have extended the epic genre, and in the case of the ‘Rings’ cycle, given the flagging “Sword-and-Sorcery” sub-genre a new lease of life.
The book concerns itself to a large extent with the type of epic film much in vogue in the fifties and sixties, drawn from the history and mythology of antiquity (Greece, Rome, Egypt, Mesopotamia). Right up front I’d have to say that I think that the author is inclined to take the genre a bit too seriously. The epic movie, in whatever phase or incarnation it takes, has been something difficult to be especially serious about! By definition the standard form of the epic has tended to be characterised by an indulgence in excess – grandiosity, vulgarity, basically everything 8XL in size! Mention the epic film and people often think of monumental Hollywood flicks like Ben-Hur, Spartacus, Cleopatra, and the like. Conspicuous consumption the order of the day, so much so so that it could be suggested that epic films should be primarily seen as a kind of parody of themselves.
Footnote: the popularity of the Italian Peplum provided career change opportunities for body builders as many would-be actors like Steve Reeves, Mark Forest and Kirk Morris, made the transition from the bodybuilding game to become leads in Sword-and-Sandal sagas. Interestingly, many of the Italian musclemen-stars took Anglo-sounding names in an attempt to make them more appealing to the American market, thus the well-known Sergio Ciani became on screen the aptly named “Alan Steel”.
Strongman ‘Maciste’
“When you speak of destiny, this is something I must at last believe” (delivered with exaggerated emphasis), Genghis Khan, in Genghis Khan (1965).
Elley’s study of the epic film genre is informative and instructive in so far as it goes. Ancient Greeks and Romans, Biblical figures, barbarians and Norsemen, all get a good run, but Elley’s historical survey cuts off at the end of the Dark Ages. I’m left with a tinge of regret that he didn’t take a more expansive approach in the book to include the grand and occasionally grandiloquent epic movies made about legendary Britons of a later era like Arthur and Robin Hood, as well as the more modern epics like Lawrence of Arabia or Dr Zhivago and even extend it to examples of the genre as diverse as 2001 a Space Odyssey and Planet of the Apes.
The media is of course deeply complicit in this with its obsessive focus on Hollywood box-office stars, especially the popular gossip mags’ hanging on every utterance and info snippet of headline-grabbing Hollywood A-listers like George Clooney, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt – a custom which is jejune and banal in the extreme. If these overblown ‘celebs’ make even a shallow pronouncement on environmental or human rights issues or announce their latest Third World orphan acquisition projects, this receives an inordinate amount of drooling media attention.
Consequently she was ‘outed’ by the McCarthyists in ‘Red Channels’ (a right wing publication blacklisting suspected ‘subversives’ in the arts and media) and her burgeoning film career suffered accordingly❀. Hunt was a gifted actor, and an accomplished singer. She was also the composer of about 50 songs including one she wrote in the early 1960s, ahead of its time, on the subject of same sex equality in love and marriage – later a hit in the US in the 1980s.
In 1944 she was voted one of the Hollywood ‘Stars of Tomorrow’. However, like others in the industry who refused to recant their earnestly-held political convictions, roles for Hunt dried up. First she was relegated to B movies, then not even that and her film career was effectively over by the time she was 40. From the ’50s, Hunt, like many other Hollywooders including Ronald Reagan (180 degrees apart from her politically) found TV work her only reliable source of income and expression.MVH at 95
