Ma and Pa Kettle on the Farm Again: Hillbilly Stereotypes in Film and Television

Cinema, Media & Communications, Social History

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 trope
Hollywood, 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 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)].

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 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].

PostScript: “Warring Hillbillies” folklore
One 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)]

The World’s First Animated Pop Icon Cat…but Whose ‘Baby’ was Felix?

Cinema, Leisure activities, Media & Communications, Memorabilia, Popular Culture

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, 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].

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 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].

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 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

Sublime collaborations
Whether 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 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.

PostScript B: Felix, the image de jour to launch a new medium
Felix 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 “Arabian Nights” Film in the West: Hollywood’s Inconsequential Oriental Adventureland

Cinema, Literary & Linguistics, Popular Culture
1001 Nights archetype city

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”

Cursed Movies III: Making Don Quixote, a Test of Adversity and Perseverance

Cinema, Literary & Linguistics

CervantesDon 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

回回回÷÷÷