Thursday 31 December 2020
THE YEAR IN REHASH: DECEMBER - Door Number 3. (This is going to be a drum.)
THE YEAR IN REHASH: NOVEMBER - The Old Friends In The Basement
THE YEAR IN REHASH: OCTOBER - Just Passing Through (More Ghosts)
Wednesday 30 December 2020
THE YEAR IN REHASH: SEPTEMBER - Darwin's Bassoon Wasted on Worms
This
isn't him though, this is "Trotsky". As soon as I learnt of his
existence I whatsapped my Finnemore colleagues and... well, long story
short, John has finally decided on a name for his first child.
Unfortunately though, Trotsky – the photographed Trotsky above, not the
putative Trotsky Finnemore – would ultimately be shot dead by a sailor
tragically unaware that "ship's bear" was a thing. A very sad death
then, but I can't say he was necessarily on the wrong side of History.
THE YEAR IN REHASH: AUGUST -"I'm Enjoying This! I'm Enjoying This!" A Final Banging On About the Formal Run of Richard II
Secondly, I recently received some typically clarifying thoughts from Gemma Brockis about the "Formal Run" of Richard the Second (viewable HERE) which I hope she won't mind me sharing: "He's normally played as a bit of an odd ball or outsider," she wrote "But if he's powerful then his descent feels weirder. Which it should... In making it glamorous, and epic, you kind of don't care so much about liking people," which is a relief. She also uses the word "majestic", which eluded me and is spot on; really I should rename these the "Oddball" and "Majestic" runs. But what exactly is Majesty? How does one picture it?
It's not really seen as a heterosexual, cis male quality these days, and I wonder if that's a Post-Revolutionary thing, not just because capital-R, poets-on-crags-with-pamphlets Romanticism promoted a more egalitarian, no-frills idea of masculinity but because – and this is something I only realised yesterday – for the majority of its history since the French Revolution, Britain hasn't actually had a king.1800-1837, a couple of Georges. 1837-1901, sixty-three years of Queen Victoria. 1901-1952, an Edward and a George and an Edward and a George. 1952-2020, sixty-eight years of Queen Elizabeth. Another friend wondered whether if Britain had actually had more kings we'd still have a royal family at all, or would the men have blown it. Playing the "Majesty" of Richard feels apt then but also, at least initially, inescapably female, which reads as camp, which is presumably why noone does it. Even Fiona Shaw played Richard as an "odd ball".
Another problem – and perhaps the source of a lot of my initial impatience with this play – came from unfavourably comparing it to Marlowe's Edward the Second, in which a King's misplaced love for his favourite, and his subjects' hatred of that love, drive the whole story. There it doesn't matter what you think of the Crown; a man is imprisoned for an unrequited love, his tragedy is clear, and in the shadow of that tragedy Richard's own fall feels squeamishly underwritten. But Richard's sexuality or lack of it isn't actually a contributing factor to his tragedy, it just provides Bolingbroke with slurs whose utterance make him as despicable as everyone else. Rather this is a tragedy about a God-appointed show off. When Richard's understanding of himself as a king is contradicted, he reinvents himself as a saint, and in prison we see him discover this is even more naive an ambition, and that he might as well pretend to be a clock. He's entirely ready for death, until it comes, and good for him. This is a play about a failing artist. Audiences like those and so do actors..
THE YEAR IN REHASH: JULY - Goldilocks Zone, W1
For these past two days I've headed south out of my front door, and a lot has seemed suitable. Some shops are open now, as you know. I went to Forbidden Planet. You have to enter through the rear door, where the people behind the desk explain happily and quietly the new one way system, and how you're not supposed to touch anything that you don't want to buy, and as I moved through the shop I looked at these vinyl wotnots with new eyes and realised I was now in the mindset of a visitor to a regional toy museum, which felt like an improvement. When I exited everything outside seemed improved upon as well: Shaftesbury Avenue seemed suitably free of traffic, with a suitable number of people in masks keeping a suitable distance even as far as Oxford Street. And the evening seemed suitably warm. And by suitably I mean perfectly. I mean just right, which it strikes me is something London hardly ever seems, which is fair enough. I've known the city deserted, but not simply uncrowded – with one possible exception: the Summer of 2012, when the Olympics saw a lot of Londoners leave because they thought it was going to be unbearable, and it turned out to be more bearable than we'd known in years. According to my daily Covid reporting-on-myself app however, the number of new cases has risen twenty five percent to two-thousand a day, so perhaps this feeling is madness, but it feels like the opposite, that's the point, and I thought that worth recording. Look at it. Thank you, like the banners say, and hashtag stay safe.
Tuesday 29 December 2020
THE YEAR IN REHASH: JUNE - #blacklivesmatter and #blackhistorymatters and #StatuesOfRealPeopleAreMainlyDumbAndScary
Here's nothing. I'm keeping vampire hours again. Lacking both heat-reisistant gloves and goggles as recommended by the excellent Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and unkeen on combing through fourteen years of my social media to wipe it of "personal details and anything that could be perceived as inciting violence" as recommended by the excellent Varaidzo, oh and also, you know, just being a hoverer, I didn't get to Trafalgar Square on Sunday to mourn George Floyd until two in the morning.
THE YEAR IN REHASH: MAY - How Antony found the Goddess and what he did to her when he found her.
I'm glad I looked up Atë, mentioned in Antony's curse below. Daughter of the goddess Discordia (above) whose golden apple sparked the Trojan War, Atë is the goddess of ruinous mistakes. According to wikipedia she walks upon the heads of men rather than the earth, possibly another mistake, and like the goddess Brigid she also appears a lot online in paintings by artists who like to use all the colours. No spoilers for Act Three, but I enjoy thinking of Mark Antony as a secret Discordian, a nihilist hedonist, like Charles Manson. There was a time I would have tried to play him less nakedly phoney, but people don't really need to believe a man to follow him, they just need him to give them a role, and it's still astonishing to me how good Shakespeare was at nailing this. The inventor of Rory's Story Cubes might also be a secret Discordian, by the way, given the cubes bear not one but both of the goddess' symbols - the apple and the wheel of chaos - handy for today's opening title anyway.
THE YEAR IN REHASH: APRIL - I've Decided To Read Aloud All of Daniel Defoe's "A Journal Of The Plague Year" On Youtube.
A couple of days ago I started reading Daniel Defoe's "A Journal of the Plague Year" which I just happened to have in the flat, and I found it so interesting I've decided to start reading it aloud on youtube for anyone else who might to enjoy these insights into 1665 (dressed for some reason in "It Only Hurts When I Laugh" pyjamas.) It's a novel rather than a journal, a work of well researched fiction, as Defoe was actually five when the plague hit, and I haven't finished the book yet so there might be all kinds of horrors in store. Be warned, it starts, as much apocalyptic fiction does, with a dry list of the initial death tallies, so if you want to jump right into the human interest stuff with the narrator debating whether or not to leave the city or stay and look after his business (plus some laughs) skip to 12:52, and if you just want to skip my opening waffle go to 1:40. Here then are the first twelve pages.
Monday 28 December 2020
THE YEAR IN REHASH: MARCH - Sung Blog Sunday! "Je Suis Mermaid"
Continuing this review of my favourite or at least more conspicuous posts from the last twelve months here's the last one for today, composed in what would turn out to be my penultimate week of working at the
Crystal Maze. Starved of collaborators, "Sung Blog Sunday" would soon
grind to a halt, and this is probably the best thing I made all year. It's shorter than Titus Andronicus anyway. From March the first. Un, deux, trois...
My second bash at GarageBand, suggested by a conversation in the green room of the Crystal Maze with Catherine Davies, who also suggested rhyming "bleu" with "azure", and the line "I hear sailors are easy to scare" so big thanks, Catherine. I dip my toe into using loops here, but not equalizers, nor have I yet bought a mic. Attempt enjoyment, listeners! (Cover art from George Leonnec below, and Weeki Wachee Spring's mermaid archive above, photographer and model unknown.)
THE YEAR IN REHASH: FEBRUARY - Frankenstein Wednesdays Saturday: "Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man" (1943)... Scavengers Dissemble!
I think I've uncovered something in this film not mentioned anywhere else, something quite important, which might be why the longer I've left writing about this film the harder it's got. It isn't the fact that Bela Lugosi's place was often taken by a stunt double called Gil Perkins (as pictured above), lending the Monster a pleasingly squished Ötzi the Iceman quality; that is well documented, for example here in imdb.
It's to do with a twist that's very clearly given away in one shot - a secret one of the characters has been hiding that should completely change our understanding of what we've just watched, but appears in no account or summary I can find. First though, some background. There's a lot of background...
1941's "The Wolfman" was not Universal's first werewolf movie. That was 1935's "Werewolf of London", a surprisingly botany-heavy story steeped in Jack-the-Ripper atmos, featuring an uptight British type called Dr. Wilfred Glendon. Star Henry Hull fell out with make-up maestro Jack Pierce after refusing to don a full muzzle as later sported by Chaney, resulting in actually a far more frightening and influential, if less iconic, look for his man beast.
Beyond that predestined end however, falls the sequel. "Universe" is an overused word when talking about film, but it's also an exciting one so let's use it: "Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man" created the first Cinematic Universe. Before Marvel, before DC, before "Happy Days". Not only was it the first sequel to two previously unrelated films, it was also, arguably, an improvement on "The Wolfman", and definitely an improvement on "The Ghost of Frankenstein". The look on Maleva's face when the resurrected Larry Talbot found his way back to her is why we have sequels. And making her the liminal instrument of this crossover between stories was just one of the many excellent ideas "The Wolf Man"'s screenwriter Curt Siodmak had that helped give this project a hope of making sense. And when Siodmak's script gives us unmusical exposition, director Roy William Neil and cinematographer George Robinson ensure that every frame is still a painting; the shot of Maleva's cartwheel, for example, thicker than itself with the mud of worlds as she and her newly adoped son move between myths in search of the secret of death...
In the end though, maybe too much care went into this film, because "Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man" predicts the future of franchise blockbusters not only in its creation of a cinematic universe, but also in its telling of a story posthumously butchered by reshoots. Working out what the original story might have been is one of both the happiest and saddest aspects of watching the film, because beautiful as it is, what reaches us is still a mess, best remembered for what it got wrong: the Monster.
Bela Lugosi was sixty when he finally got to play Frankenstein's Monster, who's found by Talbot encased in ice beneath the ruins of Frankenstein's castle in Vasaria. This is not however, you may remember, exactly how we left him at the end of "Ghost of Frankenstein". That film ended with the Monster given the brain of his devious "familiar" Ygor, a brain that would give the Monster world-conquering intelligence but also, because of a blood mismatch, leave him blind. In his blindness the Monster, now voiced by Ygor actor Bela Lugosi, stumbles into a shelf that was presumably put up by Linda Barker because everything blows up when it falls over, including the sanitarium of Ludwig Frankenstein, younger son of the Frankenstein who first created this Monster, who had mistakenly implanted the brain of Ygor into etc... One can understand why, having to deal with both this continuity and that of "The Wolf Man" Universal decided to smooth a few things out a bit for the sequel, reintroducing the lumbering mute giant that audiences would be more familiar with, rather than continue the story of Ygor's brain. But we also know that this was a decision made quite late, maybe too late, because the monster was originally given dialogue, but when test audiences heard Lugosi's Hungarian accent they laughed it out of town. We're also told that Lugosi was playing the monster blind, which is why he always has his arms out in that I'm-coming-to-get-you stance that became short-hand for the undead, and that all references to his blindness were removed from the movie, which is why Lugosi's performance seems so inexplicably stiff. Even these behind-the-scenes reports however don't really explain how an actor as capable of poetry as Lugosi could wind up giving a performance so clunky, in a film in which everyone else is so very, very good. Including this guy:
Rolecall, left to right: That's Lionel Awill again in the foreground. Definitely Lionel Atwill this time. Not Sir Cedric Harwdwicke. He's the Mayor, he collects pipes, he's a goody. Next along, that's Baroness Elsa Frankenstein, played by Ilona Massey. Is this the same Elsa who was daughter to Ludwig in "Ghost"? I definitely think we're not supposed to ask that. She talks about the work of both her father and her grandfather though, so yes she must be, which then begs the question of what happened to her cousin
To Elsa's right, bearing down on Maleva, is Dr. Frank Mannering from Cardiff, played by Patrick Knowles, and he loves Science. He's been after Talbot ever since the latter fled his hospital to tour central Europe with a band of gypsies in 1943 looking for death. (Knowles also played the fiancé of Talbot's love interest in "The Wolf Man", which contributes beautifully to the sense of oppression felt by Talbot waking in care after years of oblivion.) Dr. Frank has pursued Talbot by following his "trail" in the newspapers, which suggests Larry must have continued to kill while on the road with Maleva, and also that every damn night has a full moon... Finishing off the role call, between Maleva and the black-clad policeman Guno on the right, yes, that's Dwight Frye! In lederhosen. One site credits his character as "Rudi the Tailor", but I can't find any evidence elsewhere of a profession for him. There are some excellent clothes in Vasaria though, so it's nice to think Rudi might have had a hand in them. This is the last we'll see of Dwight Frye on Frankenstein Wednesdays. I love Dwight Frye. So it goes.
While Dr. Frank's oath prevents him from taking Talbot's life, it is still he rather than Baroness Frankenstein who gets the old life-and-death equipment up and running, Lugosi's monster who directs them to the equipment, and the Baroness who finds her father's books. In the only version of the film that survives, it is then Talbot who first asks to be shown Frankenstein's kaboodle having freed the Monster from the ice, but that appears to be added afterwards in Audio Dialogue Replacement, and we know Lugosi's dialogue was cut - we can see his lips moving - so maybe we don't have the whole story.
Every commentary I've seen suggests this look was proof that in the orginal script the Monster's sight had now returned. But as the clip above proves, he could already see! This is just him getting stronger! The moon is full, however, and so Talbot though drained of life is transformed once again, defeating Ygor's evil plans in a final battle, saving the world and finally achieving redemption. And maybe he was still drowned at the end, I don't know, but what a story that would have been! Of course that's not the story we now have, since Universal decided as a result of the test screenings that people didn't want a megalomaniacal Hungarian-voiced Monster. But without the presence of Ygor, the Monster has no agency, and the film's final fight is completely without stakes. Someone simply ADR's "Don't pull that lever", some beams fall, and Gil Perkins takes over the Monster duties, keeping things stiff despite shots in which we could see Lugosi move far more fluidly and threateningly despite his sixty years and his bad back...
Finally it is Vazec of all people who saves the day. Elsa looks on pointlessly as the Dam bursts, the valley floods, and the crimes of her grandfather are finally wiped clean. But this isn't "Frozen 2". The nazis won. And Lugosi's performance will be condemned as a mockery, without anyone realising that mockery is exactly what the actor had been going for. When he roars at the Wolf Man in the final ruckus, he's taking the piss! A beautiful, sly, brave performance, which robbed of context, proved to be Lugosi's last in any Horror film for Universal. So it goes.
Oh Bela. As Maleva might say, "the way you walked was funny, through no fault of your own..." but Thank the Gods for Roy William Neil! Because he smuggled in that shot. It's unalterably there, and for those in the know, only Ygor's presence can explain it. So we do have that story. We've had it all along. It just seems weird I can't find any evidence that anyone else has ever noticed it. But it's definitely there! You saw it, right? If you did, pass it on. Bela deserves this. And let's celebrate perhaps the best B-movie ever made!
"Insane? He's not insane. He simply wants to die."
Next week... well in four days' time I guess if Frankenstein Wednesdays are still going to be a thing, 1944's "House of Frankenstein". Karloff's in it. And I'll probably write more about werewolves and make-up and stuff. Guys, this is important.
THE YEAR IN REHASH: JANUARY - Why Not Build A World? (Enjoying the Unvisitable)
It was Nerdwriter's video below that got me thinking about this (that, and the fact I've just finished "A Wizard of Earthsea" but I'll write about that map tomorrow). According to Nerdwriter the "bill of goods" of a fantasy is not World-Building, but "the ideas and insights that spring forth from the explosive act of reading":
Or to quote M. John Harrison on his own imagined world:
"Like all books, Viriconuim is just some words. There is no place, no society, no dependable furniture to 'make real'. You can't read it for that stuff, so you have to read it for everything else."
I was delighted to see Harrison's name pop up. I've always loved "In Viriconium" - there's a detectable Viriconian influence here for example. Like Bastian's Fantasia in "The Neverending Story" the city is unmappable. In my spare periods at school I used to walk along the then undeveloped South Bank in the shadow of Bankside Power Station (now Tate Britain) looking for places it might be, scouting liminal locations. And any reader in any other city could do the same.
That's why I'm not a-hundred-per-cent a fan of maps at the beginning of books. Fantasy locations are unvisitable. Definitive visualisations are impossible.