Read some of his work at:
http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/grossman.html
I particularly liked, "How to Hate Titles Correctly".
Thursday 30 August 2007
Tuesday 28 August 2007
Australian Film and the Cultural Cold War
Here's a link to an excellent article I discovered late one night whilst researching the Australian propaganda film, 'Menace' for the 'War Hot and Cold (mostly cold)' program. It inspired me to ask the author, David McKnight, to introduce the program, which he was kind enough to do.
Please check it out. Here's the link:
http://beyondrightandleft.com.au/archives/2005/08/australian_film.html
Please check it out. Here's the link:
http://beyondrightandleft.com.au/archives/2005/08/australian_film.html
Monday 20 August 2007
Transcript of Introduction to The Scarecrow
Hi everyone. Thanks for coming today to this screening of the Kiwi gothic melodrama, The Scarecrow. Being something of a Kiwiphile (I've been to New Zealand four times, mostly to work on The Incredibly Strange Film Festival) I am a great admirer of New Zealand films. During my visits there, I often talk to the locals about movies and inevitably the subject of New Zealand films arises. When I ask them what their favourite New Zealand films are, The Scarecrow is almost always cited as one of the very best.
The film was based on the novel by Ronald Hugh Morrieson, a musician and writer whose biography sounds like a gothic novel in itself. Born in 1922 in Hawera, Morrieson was an only child, indulged by a doting mother and an elderly aunt. He lived in the same rundown old house his whole life, and never left the town of his birth, except for a few nights spent in Auckland. He was a musician who played in local jazz bands and made a living as a music teacher. He also had a reputation as a drunk and a womaniser, evetually drinking himself to death in 1972.
In the last decade of his life he wrote four novels, the first of which was The Scarecrow. The novel was poorly received in New Zealand at the time of its publication, leading Morrieson to correctly predict that he would be one of those romantic fools who is discovered after his death. The people of his home-town were particularly appalled by Morrieson's morbid themes and cynical attitude,and commented, "Why can't you write about nice things." Anyone who specialises in the gothic will recognise this as a familiar lament.
Posthumous recognition has placed Morrieson among the top rank of New Zealand authors and he is the subject of at least one biography. Several films were made of his work. When his house was set to be demolished there was a modest uporoar among the NZ literati who wanted it preserved. A petition was organised to save the house, but a counter petition, signed by the residents of his old hometown, attracted four times the signatures and the house was demolished. There was still a lot of enmity felt towards him - for what reason - we'll leave to your imagination.
The film that you are about to see was directed in 1981 by Sam Pillsbury. At the time i was considered to be one of the most accomplished New Zealand films ever produced, equalled only by Sleeping Dogs and Goodbye Pork Pie. The cast includes Australian actress Tracy Mann and, in the title role, American actor and horror icon John Carradine, whose career spanned six decades and over four hundred movies. At the time of prodution, Carradine was well into his seventies, crippled by arthritis, and willing to work on any film no matter how shoddy, as long as the cheque cleared, which saw him appear in some of the worst horror movies of all time, including Satan's Cheerleaders, Astro Zombies and the abysmal Frankenstein Island. This was undoubtedly his best work of the period.
Freud describes the uncanny as something that is familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. The German word he uses is unheimlich, which translates into English as the unhomely. I can think of no better way to describe New Zealand, especially as an Australian. It is strangely familiar; the people, the place, the architecture, the type of society, the way of life, yet also strangely unfamiliar, although the unfamiliarity is hard to put your finger on, which only makes it all the more uncanny. There is a strong gothic underbelly to New Zealand, one that Morrieson captures perfectly in The Scarecrow. During my last stay in NZ, a psychotic P (or ice, as it is known in Australia) freak went amok in a 7-11 with a samurai sword. The place is full of stories of bizarre behaviour, grisly murders, and marvellously eccentric characters.
The one gripe that New Zealanders have about Australia is that no one ever visits there. It's all one-way traffic. So having fallen in love with the place, I suggets you consider it as a possible holiday destination. Just remember to stay out of the 7-11s. Enjoy the movie.
The film was based on the novel by Ronald Hugh Morrieson, a musician and writer whose biography sounds like a gothic novel in itself. Born in 1922 in Hawera, Morrieson was an only child, indulged by a doting mother and an elderly aunt. He lived in the same rundown old house his whole life, and never left the town of his birth, except for a few nights spent in Auckland. He was a musician who played in local jazz bands and made a living as a music teacher. He also had a reputation as a drunk and a womaniser, evetually drinking himself to death in 1972.
In the last decade of his life he wrote four novels, the first of which was The Scarecrow. The novel was poorly received in New Zealand at the time of its publication, leading Morrieson to correctly predict that he would be one of those romantic fools who is discovered after his death. The people of his home-town were particularly appalled by Morrieson's morbid themes and cynical attitude,and commented, "Why can't you write about nice things." Anyone who specialises in the gothic will recognise this as a familiar lament.
Posthumous recognition has placed Morrieson among the top rank of New Zealand authors and he is the subject of at least one biography. Several films were made of his work. When his house was set to be demolished there was a modest uporoar among the NZ literati who wanted it preserved. A petition was organised to save the house, but a counter petition, signed by the residents of his old hometown, attracted four times the signatures and the house was demolished. There was still a lot of enmity felt towards him - for what reason - we'll leave to your imagination.
The film that you are about to see was directed in 1981 by Sam Pillsbury. At the time i was considered to be one of the most accomplished New Zealand films ever produced, equalled only by Sleeping Dogs and Goodbye Pork Pie. The cast includes Australian actress Tracy Mann and, in the title role, American actor and horror icon John Carradine, whose career spanned six decades and over four hundred movies. At the time of prodution, Carradine was well into his seventies, crippled by arthritis, and willing to work on any film no matter how shoddy, as long as the cheque cleared, which saw him appear in some of the worst horror movies of all time, including Satan's Cheerleaders, Astro Zombies and the abysmal Frankenstein Island. This was undoubtedly his best work of the period.
Freud describes the uncanny as something that is familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. The German word he uses is unheimlich, which translates into English as the unhomely. I can think of no better way to describe New Zealand, especially as an Australian. It is strangely familiar; the people, the place, the architecture, the type of society, the way of life, yet also strangely unfamiliar, although the unfamiliarity is hard to put your finger on, which only makes it all the more uncanny. There is a strong gothic underbelly to New Zealand, one that Morrieson captures perfectly in The Scarecrow. During my last stay in NZ, a psychotic P (or ice, as it is known in Australia) freak went amok in a 7-11 with a samurai sword. The place is full of stories of bizarre behaviour, grisly murders, and marvellously eccentric characters.
The one gripe that New Zealanders have about Australia is that no one ever visits there. It's all one-way traffic. So having fallen in love with the place, I suggets you consider it as a possible holiday destination. Just remember to stay out of the 7-11s. Enjoy the movie.
Tuesday 14 August 2007
A response to A Difficult Double Feature by Pia Santaklaus
Saturdate 11th Auguts 2007
The Vinyl Countdown
Heyl Brett,
While it’s fresh in the mind, some thoughts on today’s ‘Difficult’ Double Feature, WAVELENGTH (1967) & VINYL (1965).
I enjoyed both films and could sit through them again, WAVELENGTH being the preferred of the two. My interpretations follow; you may find them off this planet...please consider:
It’s a very long stretch, but I suspect the crux of Michael Snow’s WAVELENGTH is to make the viewer aware (in a most surreal fashion) of the plight of the endangered whales. Stay with me:
“No one I think is in my tree; I mean it must be high or low...
That is you can’t, you know, TUNE IN but it’s all right.
That is I think it’s not too bad.
Let me take you down, ‘cause I’m going to...”
By 1966, as whale-watching became popular, member nations of the International Whaling Commission banned whaling of some species in the North Pacific to protect them as numbers had severely dwindled.
Canadians have a reputation as staunch environmentalists.
I suspect Michael Snow (The Canadian topical Environmentalist?) understood the urgency of the whales enough to make a film about it…albeit it in his own way.
It was surprising and enchanting to hear a segment from the Beatles’ STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER as part of the movie soundtrack. I suspect Michael Snow (The Artist) appreciated the Beatles increasingly avant-garde output. Strawberry Fields is not traditional guitars and drums…the sounds include mellotrons, tape loops, eastern instrumentation and pitch-shifting experiments.
I assume Michael Snow used the song without official clearance from The Beatles as actual Beatles recordings are rarely, if ever, permitted for such porpoises (Ha!). In this new context, Strawberry Fields sounds even more alien, further compressed effectively by poorly positioned(?)/inadequate microphone(s).
I think Michael Snow deliberately placed STRAWBERRY FIELDS near the outset of the film offering bewildered viewers a map/introduction/explanation/instruction to the underlying meaning of his movie. Looking closely at the Beatles’ lyric...
Most likely, the Beatles’ phrase “it must be high or low” relates to a frequency and is taken up by Snow, translated via various evolving frequencies in his movie, particularly sound waves and their wavelengths. (A Wavelength is inverse proportional with the frequency).
Even the apartment is shot from such an angle that you can’t “know” whether it’s on the ground floor or on a higher level up in the building...still, we see ambiguous movement outside...“it must be high or low” [long shot].
The Beatles’ phrase “TUNE IN” and the movie title “WAVELENGTH” go hand in hand.
I won’t underplay Snow’s decision to use Strawberry Fields in the movie.
A very complex and haunting recording for the times (Released Feb 67, Lennon had written it in Spain in Dec 1966 during down-time from filming Richard Lester’s HOW I WON THE WAR), Michael Snow must have moved incredibly quickly in order to capture this very-recently released Beatles song on film.
Apparently Snow also filmed WAVELENGTH during December 66.
Incredibly, Lennon actually used the word “WAVELENGTH” on the earliest unreleased studio demo version of STRAWBERRY FIELDS where he sings:
“No one is on my wavelength, I mean, it’s either too high or too low;
That is you can’t you know, tune in...”
I wonder if and how the Canadian Michael Snow knew of Lennon’s unavailable demo. It seems impossible! The Beatles official, released version of STRAWBERRY FIELDS does NOT include the word ‘wavelength’.
How did Snow pick up the good vibration? Wavelengths were in the air...What a fluke!
In order to get to the main point of the movie (WHALES), the film progresses slowly over time, through a series of repeating units of sound, colour and light, ranging at first from cool, low, wavelengths, gradually heating up, zooming in, tightening...colours get ever-hotter (at one point they seemed white hot...even the yellow chair looks white). Michael Snow manipulates sound through a series of electronic noises to capture/offer life and intimacy where there are mostly only inanimate objects to be seen.
For most of the movie, life is where you cannot see it. The viewer cannot view humanity. Instead, the still-life objects in the room begin to take on living characteristics. The yellow chair and the telephone on the table become very real characters...with the film soundtrack they seem to be talking to us. (Although one buzzing noise might be a fly hiding beneath the phone on the table as we creep towards it – Ha!).
As a subplot, we hear something like gunshots in the distance...a man stumbles in, falls down, a lady spots him and fears he is dead...she talks into/with the telephone (by now such an object of focus that we are almost becoming acquainted with it), while the soundtrack builds to ever tighter wavelengths, melding a score from new forms such as bells, whistles, alarms and sirens - appropriate seeing there’s a man possibly dead in this “living” room. (Living-room).
We focus more and more towards the ultimate shot. Everything else falls away and is passed...no more distractions...we are faced with Michael Snow’s subliminal and ultimate point...The surface of the ocean! (in a photograph on the wall)...
We expect to somehow keep breaking through to submerge...We may again recall The Beatles’ earlier singing “Let me take you down”, but the image of the ocean surface cannot visibly break. We cannot go below from here...However Snow’s message keeps evolving aurally if we use our imagination. Keep watching. Keep Listening. You can still hear what’s going on below...
I wonder if you could see/hear whales vocalizing from a thousand miles away, (beneath the ocean surface), sending oscillations all the way to this still/dead room. LISTEN to the soundtrack. One might identify whale-song in place. Considered by some (far-out, trippy, greenie folk types) the most beautiful songs on Earth, perhaps WAVELENGTH considers the importance of whales by juxtaposing whale song with Beatle song.
Some points on WHALESONG: Whale songs have been sent into space to represent Earth.
Humans and whales produce sounds differently. Humans use larynx and vocal chords, whales make wavelengths of sound with air vibrating through tissue in the head. Unlike humans, whales don’t necessarily have to exhale to produce sound. Researchers have found that whales from similar geographical regions sing similar songs whilst whales from other areas sing very different songs.
Wow! Freaky n’ far fetched? Too much? I don’t know.
……………………………………………………………………………………
Now quickly to Andy Warhol’s VINYL, I didn’t know what to expect…its legend keeps growing. I found it mostly aggressive and opportunistic.
As a man of 42 living in Sydney in 2007, it still felt confronting. One can only begin to imagine its impact on a conservative audience of 1965. Warhol often forced and shocked his way to fame and for that I have never particularly respected or liked him (much like Yoko Ono).
Regardless, this 1965 film with poor acting and huge shortcomings, seems to have been extremely influential. I don’t know whether Kubrick ever watched it, but I’m willing to bet he did. I even think that Warhol’s Vinyl had a deep and profound effect on Kubrick. Not only did Kubrick go on to make his own A Clockwork Orange, but years later, for his final movie (Eyes Wide Shut), Kubrick used actors like doppelgangers of those used by Warhol in 65.
Take a closer look at Victor the ‘star’ of Vinyl (Gerard Malanga - particularly his left profile). How much does Tom Cruise resemble him? Same eyebrows, nose, mouth, chin and stocky body shape…An uncanny and incredible resemblance! Kubrick also employed Nicole Kidman; although not facially identical, has the poise, slenderness, fairness-of-skin, moderate acting ability and tight sculpted neatness-of-hair as Edie Sedgwick.
Kubrick mirrored the mismatched Malanga and Sedgwick in Warhol’s Vinyl with the equally mismatched Cruise and Kidman in Eyes Wide Shut.
Perhaps Kubrick was perversely trying to relive Warhol’s own directing experience.
I really can imagine an old Stanley K. trying to relive a slice of Warhol’s 1965 life with his very own Malanga & wafer-thin Sedgwick.
Re- Sedgwick, Warhol always believed the masses would appreciate a bunch of boys more if they were garnished with the presence of a charismatic female. (He recruited Nico to front an all-male Velvet Underground). For Vinyl, Warhol obviously used Edie Sedgwick to light up the foreground. Sedgwick looks like an “Extra” with a very important role; slim, well-groomed, the newcomer sits propped-up majestically to fill the foreground and supplement the action…obviously the male lead of the story wasn’t enough.
The music Warhol chose for Vinyl included at least a couple of gems from the then-current British invasion. The Rolling Stones’ “The Last Time” and the Kinks’ “Tired of Waiting” link thematically…perhaps Warhol is sending out a message to one of his own. Perhaps he just had a crush on Jagger…who knows.
Oh, I also thought J.D.McDermott (the Cop) looked a bit like actor Richard E Grant (Withnail and I)
I’m not sure if anyone has picked up on this, but it seems Warhol was surrounded by the letter V: Vinyl, Victor, Velvet Underground, Viva, Utra-Violet, he suffered from St Vitus’ Dance, he was shot by Valerie Solanas…
Even his own name ‘Warhol’ is pronounced Vorhola in parts of Europe…(like Wagner is pronounced Vargner)
See ya on Saturdaze…
The Vinyl Countdown
Heyl Brett,
While it’s fresh in the mind, some thoughts on today’s ‘Difficult’ Double Feature, WAVELENGTH (1967) & VINYL (1965).
I enjoyed both films and could sit through them again, WAVELENGTH being the preferred of the two. My interpretations follow; you may find them off this planet...please consider:
It’s a very long stretch, but I suspect the crux of Michael Snow’s WAVELENGTH is to make the viewer aware (in a most surreal fashion) of the plight of the endangered whales. Stay with me:
“No one I think is in my tree; I mean it must be high or low...
That is you can’t, you know, TUNE IN but it’s all right.
That is I think it’s not too bad.
Let me take you down, ‘cause I’m going to...”
By 1966, as whale-watching became popular, member nations of the International Whaling Commission banned whaling of some species in the North Pacific to protect them as numbers had severely dwindled.
Canadians have a reputation as staunch environmentalists.
I suspect Michael Snow (The Canadian topical Environmentalist?) understood the urgency of the whales enough to make a film about it…albeit it in his own way.
It was surprising and enchanting to hear a segment from the Beatles’ STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER as part of the movie soundtrack. I suspect Michael Snow (The Artist) appreciated the Beatles increasingly avant-garde output. Strawberry Fields is not traditional guitars and drums…the sounds include mellotrons, tape loops, eastern instrumentation and pitch-shifting experiments.
I assume Michael Snow used the song without official clearance from The Beatles as actual Beatles recordings are rarely, if ever, permitted for such porpoises (Ha!). In this new context, Strawberry Fields sounds even more alien, further compressed effectively by poorly positioned(?)/inadequate microphone(s).
I think Michael Snow deliberately placed STRAWBERRY FIELDS near the outset of the film offering bewildered viewers a map/introduction/explanation/instruction to the underlying meaning of his movie. Looking closely at the Beatles’ lyric...
Most likely, the Beatles’ phrase “it must be high or low” relates to a frequency and is taken up by Snow, translated via various evolving frequencies in his movie, particularly sound waves and their wavelengths. (A Wavelength is inverse proportional with the frequency).
Even the apartment is shot from such an angle that you can’t “know” whether it’s on the ground floor or on a higher level up in the building...still, we see ambiguous movement outside...“it must be high or low” [long shot].
The Beatles’ phrase “TUNE IN” and the movie title “WAVELENGTH” go hand in hand.
I won’t underplay Snow’s decision to use Strawberry Fields in the movie.
A very complex and haunting recording for the times (Released Feb 67, Lennon had written it in Spain in Dec 1966 during down-time from filming Richard Lester’s HOW I WON THE WAR), Michael Snow must have moved incredibly quickly in order to capture this very-recently released Beatles song on film.
Apparently Snow also filmed WAVELENGTH during December 66.
Incredibly, Lennon actually used the word “WAVELENGTH” on the earliest unreleased studio demo version of STRAWBERRY FIELDS where he sings:
“No one is on my wavelength, I mean, it’s either too high or too low;
That is you can’t you know, tune in...”
I wonder if and how the Canadian Michael Snow knew of Lennon’s unavailable demo. It seems impossible! The Beatles official, released version of STRAWBERRY FIELDS does NOT include the word ‘wavelength’.
How did Snow pick up the good vibration? Wavelengths were in the air...What a fluke!
In order to get to the main point of the movie (WHALES), the film progresses slowly over time, through a series of repeating units of sound, colour and light, ranging at first from cool, low, wavelengths, gradually heating up, zooming in, tightening...colours get ever-hotter (at one point they seemed white hot...even the yellow chair looks white). Michael Snow manipulates sound through a series of electronic noises to capture/offer life and intimacy where there are mostly only inanimate objects to be seen.
For most of the movie, life is where you cannot see it. The viewer cannot view humanity. Instead, the still-life objects in the room begin to take on living characteristics. The yellow chair and the telephone on the table become very real characters...with the film soundtrack they seem to be talking to us. (Although one buzzing noise might be a fly hiding beneath the phone on the table as we creep towards it – Ha!).
As a subplot, we hear something like gunshots in the distance...a man stumbles in, falls down, a lady spots him and fears he is dead...she talks into/with the telephone (by now such an object of focus that we are almost becoming acquainted with it), while the soundtrack builds to ever tighter wavelengths, melding a score from new forms such as bells, whistles, alarms and sirens - appropriate seeing there’s a man possibly dead in this “living” room. (Living-room).
We focus more and more towards the ultimate shot. Everything else falls away and is passed...no more distractions...we are faced with Michael Snow’s subliminal and ultimate point...The surface of the ocean! (in a photograph on the wall)...
We expect to somehow keep breaking through to submerge...We may again recall The Beatles’ earlier singing “Let me take you down”, but the image of the ocean surface cannot visibly break. We cannot go below from here...However Snow’s message keeps evolving aurally if we use our imagination. Keep watching. Keep Listening. You can still hear what’s going on below...
I wonder if you could see/hear whales vocalizing from a thousand miles away, (beneath the ocean surface), sending oscillations all the way to this still/dead room. LISTEN to the soundtrack. One might identify whale-song in place. Considered by some (far-out, trippy, greenie folk types) the most beautiful songs on Earth, perhaps WAVELENGTH considers the importance of whales by juxtaposing whale song with Beatle song.
Some points on WHALESONG: Whale songs have been sent into space to represent Earth.
Humans and whales produce sounds differently. Humans use larynx and vocal chords, whales make wavelengths of sound with air vibrating through tissue in the head. Unlike humans, whales don’t necessarily have to exhale to produce sound. Researchers have found that whales from similar geographical regions sing similar songs whilst whales from other areas sing very different songs.
Wow! Freaky n’ far fetched? Too much? I don’t know.
……………………………………………………………………………………
Now quickly to Andy Warhol’s VINYL, I didn’t know what to expect…its legend keeps growing. I found it mostly aggressive and opportunistic.
As a man of 42 living in Sydney in 2007, it still felt confronting. One can only begin to imagine its impact on a conservative audience of 1965. Warhol often forced and shocked his way to fame and for that I have never particularly respected or liked him (much like Yoko Ono).
Regardless, this 1965 film with poor acting and huge shortcomings, seems to have been extremely influential. I don’t know whether Kubrick ever watched it, but I’m willing to bet he did. I even think that Warhol’s Vinyl had a deep and profound effect on Kubrick. Not only did Kubrick go on to make his own A Clockwork Orange, but years later, for his final movie (Eyes Wide Shut), Kubrick used actors like doppelgangers of those used by Warhol in 65.
Take a closer look at Victor the ‘star’ of Vinyl (Gerard Malanga - particularly his left profile). How much does Tom Cruise resemble him? Same eyebrows, nose, mouth, chin and stocky body shape…An uncanny and incredible resemblance! Kubrick also employed Nicole Kidman; although not facially identical, has the poise, slenderness, fairness-of-skin, moderate acting ability and tight sculpted neatness-of-hair as Edie Sedgwick.
Kubrick mirrored the mismatched Malanga and Sedgwick in Warhol’s Vinyl with the equally mismatched Cruise and Kidman in Eyes Wide Shut.
Perhaps Kubrick was perversely trying to relive Warhol’s own directing experience.
I really can imagine an old Stanley K. trying to relive a slice of Warhol’s 1965 life with his very own Malanga & wafer-thin Sedgwick.
Re- Sedgwick, Warhol always believed the masses would appreciate a bunch of boys more if they were garnished with the presence of a charismatic female. (He recruited Nico to front an all-male Velvet Underground). For Vinyl, Warhol obviously used Edie Sedgwick to light up the foreground. Sedgwick looks like an “Extra” with a very important role; slim, well-groomed, the newcomer sits propped-up majestically to fill the foreground and supplement the action…obviously the male lead of the story wasn’t enough.
The music Warhol chose for Vinyl included at least a couple of gems from the then-current British invasion. The Rolling Stones’ “The Last Time” and the Kinks’ “Tired of Waiting” link thematically…perhaps Warhol is sending out a message to one of his own. Perhaps he just had a crush on Jagger…who knows.
Oh, I also thought J.D.McDermott (the Cop) looked a bit like actor Richard E Grant (Withnail and I)
I’m not sure if anyone has picked up on this, but it seems Warhol was surrounded by the letter V: Vinyl, Victor, Velvet Underground, Viva, Utra-Violet, he suffered from St Vitus’ Dance, he was shot by Valerie Solanas…
Even his own name ‘Warhol’ is pronounced Vorhola in parts of Europe…(like Wagner is pronounced Vargner)
See ya on Saturdaze…
A response to The Cool World by Pia Santaklaus
06 Augmented 2007
Hey n' Hi Brett…Again, one is inspired to write you a few lines. I didn’t expect to like this movie, but tonight’s Cinemateque feature, THE COOL WORLD (1963) [directed by Shirley Clarke], left me far more impressed and refreshed than I expected to be. It was infinitely better than I anticipated. As far as the art of good movie-making goes, I believe Shirley Clarke has created a great example with this excellent piece. I realize now that it is a most underrated work.
S.C has managed to cram so much vision and reality into this vanguard movie. Her eye for detail is astonishing. My mind boggles at how much she achieved so long ago without the benefit of today’s super-resources and technologies. She even extracted ultra-natural performances from the actors. At times I forgot it was a fictional piece.
I came away from it with a real sense that I’d just witnessed a genuine slice of the cross section of a people in the underbelly of an era that carried the seeds responsible a decade earlier for having inspired a hungry, white, awed boy called Kerouac (who desperately wanted to be black and understood their “coolness”) to invent white cool as we know it…further on, around this very period and while THE COOL WORLD was being shot, a ‘freewheelin’ Bob Dylan also knew their worth, following in Kerouac’s footsteps. It was so exciting to witness this time-capsule from the early 60s East-coast-USA in jazzy B&W. At one point we were driving through Greenwich Village and I realized that a young Dylan was actually somewhere there, in the vicinity, at the time, in some small, real dive. It blew me away. The current existing cars, clothes, dust, music, backdrops…the whole thing!
These blacks and their ilk, like their fathers and their ilk, provided the basis of cool attitude that moved the Beats to imitate them. I wonder if there are any movies of the same period that might portray in a similar realistic aesthetic the white outcasts and hipsters of society.
Interestingly, such desperate violent undercurrent in parts of America were being mirrored and building in the UK simultaneously. During this period (63), even a young Andrew Loog Oldham (soon to manage The Rolling Stones) was being massively inspired by the book of ‘A Clockwork Orange’ and would later try to buy the rights to use it as a movie vehicle for the Stones. It’s all part of a connected web as the youth of the UK were digging US jazz and Beat poetry at the time. I’m so impressed by Shirley Clarke’s force. I can see how her independence, strength of vision and dedication to pure messages probably rubbed the conservative movie industry the wrong way and so they ignored her, robbing her of great kudos. Good choice of movie Brett.
Hey n' Hi Brett…Again, one is inspired to write you a few lines. I didn’t expect to like this movie, but tonight’s Cinemateque feature, THE COOL WORLD (1963) [directed by Shirley Clarke], left me far more impressed and refreshed than I expected to be. It was infinitely better than I anticipated. As far as the art of good movie-making goes, I believe Shirley Clarke has created a great example with this excellent piece. I realize now that it is a most underrated work.
S.C has managed to cram so much vision and reality into this vanguard movie. Her eye for detail is astonishing. My mind boggles at how much she achieved so long ago without the benefit of today’s super-resources and technologies. She even extracted ultra-natural performances from the actors. At times I forgot it was a fictional piece.
I came away from it with a real sense that I’d just witnessed a genuine slice of the cross section of a people in the underbelly of an era that carried the seeds responsible a decade earlier for having inspired a hungry, white, awed boy called Kerouac (who desperately wanted to be black and understood their “coolness”) to invent white cool as we know it…further on, around this very period and while THE COOL WORLD was being shot, a ‘freewheelin’ Bob Dylan also knew their worth, following in Kerouac’s footsteps. It was so exciting to witness this time-capsule from the early 60s East-coast-USA in jazzy B&W. At one point we were driving through Greenwich Village and I realized that a young Dylan was actually somewhere there, in the vicinity, at the time, in some small, real dive. It blew me away. The current existing cars, clothes, dust, music, backdrops…the whole thing!
These blacks and their ilk, like their fathers and their ilk, provided the basis of cool attitude that moved the Beats to imitate them. I wonder if there are any movies of the same period that might portray in a similar realistic aesthetic the white outcasts and hipsters of society.
Interestingly, such desperate violent undercurrent in parts of America were being mirrored and building in the UK simultaneously. During this period (63), even a young Andrew Loog Oldham (soon to manage The Rolling Stones) was being massively inspired by the book of ‘A Clockwork Orange’ and would later try to buy the rights to use it as a movie vehicle for the Stones. It’s all part of a connected web as the youth of the UK were digging US jazz and Beat poetry at the time. I’m so impressed by Shirley Clarke’s force. I can see how her independence, strength of vision and dedication to pure messages probably rubbed the conservative movie industry the wrong way and so they ignored her, robbing her of great kudos. Good choice of movie Brett.
A response to Morgan, A Suitable Case for Treatment by Pia Santaklaus
02 Julikeit? 2007
Hey Brett,
I just witnessed Morgan: A Suitable Case For Treatment and thought to comment.
It amazes me how alike movies of a particular time and place can feel...This one had a pre-BEDAZZLED (1967) atmosphere. These try-hard, home-grown, don’t-be-late-for-tea, British, Psychedelicious, faux-surreality moments are strangely enjoyable to me and still quite irksome; Perfect in their own way.
I believe this movie was made in 1966 (not ‘68 as adverteased)..the B&W presentation might suggest it and the fact that it’s still tinged with too much sweetness to be made in harder-edged ’68.
David Warner was excellent in his first big main-man role, but it's kind of obvious that he could never be much bigger as a star, seeing as his appeal would fit the league limited to such actors of dry-delivery as Peter Cook whose aura seems to be a mirror with Warner's.
David Warner, in his soft coiffed Beatlesque hair, long-square face and ectomorph body with drainpipe pants, big jumper and revolutionary hat, REALLY resembled Peter Cook. (Don’t you think?). Nuff!
While watching MORGAN! I wondered if perhaps a cinema-going genius like The Kinks’ Ray Davies happened to see this movie at the cinema or perhaps a little later on the “Tellie” at home.
I suspect this movie may have inspired him to write his 1970 smash hit APEMAN.
His lyrics include:
“I think I’m sophisticated cos I’m Living my life like a good homosapien...
“I’m no better than the animals sitting in their cages...
“Compared to the flowers and the birds and the trees, I am an apeman..
“I don’t feel safe in this world no more...
“I’m an ape man, I’m a KING KONG man...etc
““In man’s evolution, he has created the cities and the motor traffic rumble
“But give me half a chance and I’d be taking of my clothes and living in the jungle...
“Come and love me, be my ape man girl and we will be so happy in my apeman world...etc
“Oh I’ll be your TARZAN, you’ll be my Jane...etc
“I want to sail away to a distant shore...etc
Whatcha think? The movie had all those elements, including old footage of King Kong and Tarzan. That song would make a great soundtrack over the end credits of a modern remake. HA!
Anywhooo, must run...Thanx again. Twas fun and goodsomely great.
Paul
Hey Brett,
I just witnessed Morgan: A Suitable Case For Treatment and thought to comment.
It amazes me how alike movies of a particular time and place can feel...This one had a pre-BEDAZZLED (1967) atmosphere. These try-hard, home-grown, don’t-be-late-for-tea, British, Psychedelicious, faux-surreality moments are strangely enjoyable to me and still quite irksome; Perfect in their own way.
I believe this movie was made in 1966 (not ‘68 as adverteased)..the B&W presentation might suggest it and the fact that it’s still tinged with too much sweetness to be made in harder-edged ’68.
David Warner was excellent in his first big main-man role, but it's kind of obvious that he could never be much bigger as a star, seeing as his appeal would fit the league limited to such actors of dry-delivery as Peter Cook whose aura seems to be a mirror with Warner's.
David Warner, in his soft coiffed Beatlesque hair, long-square face and ectomorph body with drainpipe pants, big jumper and revolutionary hat, REALLY resembled Peter Cook. (Don’t you think?). Nuff!
While watching MORGAN! I wondered if perhaps a cinema-going genius like The Kinks’ Ray Davies happened to see this movie at the cinema or perhaps a little later on the “Tellie” at home.
I suspect this movie may have inspired him to write his 1970 smash hit APEMAN.
His lyrics include:
“I think I’m sophisticated cos I’m Living my life like a good homosapien...
“I’m no better than the animals sitting in their cages...
“Compared to the flowers and the birds and the trees, I am an apeman..
“I don’t feel safe in this world no more...
“I’m an ape man, I’m a KING KONG man...etc
““In man’s evolution, he has created the cities and the motor traffic rumble
“But give me half a chance and I’d be taking of my clothes and living in the jungle...
“Come and love me, be my ape man girl and we will be so happy in my apeman world...etc
“Oh I’ll be your TARZAN, you’ll be my Jane...etc
“I want to sail away to a distant shore...etc
Whatcha think? The movie had all those elements, including old footage of King Kong and Tarzan. That song would make a great soundtrack over the end credits of a modern remake. HA!
Anywhooo, must run...Thanx again. Twas fun and goodsomely great.
Paul
Sunday 12 August 2007
Transcript of Introduction to "A Difficult Double Feature" 11/8/7
Afternoon everyone and welcome to the Chauvel Cinematheque for this difficult double feature of Michael Snow's Wavelength and Andy Warhol's Vinyl. I've borrowed the term "difficult' from contemporary classical or art music circles (thanks Mr. X) where it's used to describe challenging works of art. There is a sort of hierarchy of difficulty. The word "advanced" is used to describe works that are a little challenging, while the word "difficult" is used to describe works that are a lot challenging. Beyond that, there's "impenetrable", a word used to describe works that resist engagement or interpretation. I do hope today's screening won't be too impenetrable. You could also say these films are somewhat "medicinal", as they may taste horrible going down, but they make you feel better afterwards.
At my most cynical, I sometimes think that narrative films are nothing more than bedtime stories; cosy, comforting tales of heroes and villains that lull and reassure the viewer to sleep, placing them in the position of a child, and creating a relationship with the film akin to that of a child and a parent. Difficult films matter because they attempt to transform this relationship into a more adult one, where the film and the viewer are on equal terms. They engage the intellects instead of the emotions and elevate film to the level of sophistication found in modern art, sculpture and music.
In every cinematheque program, I try to program at least one difficult film. Wax, or the Discovery of Television among the Bees, that was pretty difficult, Harry Smith's Heaven and Earth Magic - that was very difficult, but today's films, will likely be the most difficult screenings of all. It is with some trepidation that I programmed these films. They were both films I was thinking of programming but decided against it for fear they would be too alienating. However, when I asked for suggestions for the new program, these two films were the two most requested, so if you don't like them you only have yourselves to blame. I like to think of myself as a showman. I like to put on a good show, and have people enjoy themselves. That's not to say you can't enjoy yourselves watching these films, but it's a different kind of enjoyment to the pleasures of narrative cinema.
I feel like I should give you something to work with here, some food for thought, something to mull over as you watch these films, but to do so runs the risk of misleading you, or sending you in the wrong direction, because ultimately the meaning of these films, especially Wavelength, is entirely subjective, even impossible. To be honest, I don't understand what this film is about anyway. I've read many articles, reviews and essays on wavelength, and none of them seem to understand it either. Instead, I will quickly sketch out some biographical and production details for both films.
The first film today, Wavelength, was directed by Canadian filmmaker Michael Snow in 1966 and released in 1967. Snow was a multidisciplinarian: artist, painter sculptor, jazz musician and filmmaker. He received the Canadian equivalent of an OBE and an Honorary Doctorate from the Sorbonne in France, the first artist to do so since Picasso. After watching Wavelength you may think to yourself - Gee, is it that easy? Snow is held in great esteem in Canada and elsewhere and this work was a big influence on the development of underground and experimental film, video art and installation based art.
Snow describes his work as "philosophical toys". He claims wavelength was informed by a spiritual impulse, and it is indeed a mandala-like object for meditation. The idea being that if you stare at something long enough, you will begin to see what's there, the implicit nature of the thing, if you like. Anyone who has ever sat and stared at a painting for forty five minutes will likely enjoy this film. For the rest of you, it's not too late to catch the Dixie Chicks playing in Cinema two.
The second film today is Andy Warhol's Vinyl, a very minimalist adaptation of the Anthony Burgess novel, A Clockwork Orange. Vinyl was produced in 1965, four years before Kubrick's adaptation. I'm sure you are all familiar with Kubrick's version of the film so you may have some fun noticing the similarities,if any. Apparently, Kubrick had seen and admired both films. The last shot in The Shining (a slow track into a photo of Jack Nicholson) has been referred to as Wavelength-lite. Similarly, the opening shot in Kubrick's version of Clockwork... bears resemblance to the opening of the Warhol version. It has been said that Wavelength is the fruit of Warhol's anti-aesthetic, yet the films are very different, despite their minimalist production strategies.
In closing, I'd just like to say that if you do find yourself bored by these films, it could be worse. I could have screened Warhol's Sleep, an eight hour film consisting entirely of a sleeping figure, or Empire, a twenty four hour film consisting of nothing but a shot of the Empire State Building.
Thanks a lot. Enjoy the films.
At my most cynical, I sometimes think that narrative films are nothing more than bedtime stories; cosy, comforting tales of heroes and villains that lull and reassure the viewer to sleep, placing them in the position of a child, and creating a relationship with the film akin to that of a child and a parent. Difficult films matter because they attempt to transform this relationship into a more adult one, where the film and the viewer are on equal terms. They engage the intellects instead of the emotions and elevate film to the level of sophistication found in modern art, sculpture and music.
In every cinematheque program, I try to program at least one difficult film. Wax, or the Discovery of Television among the Bees, that was pretty difficult, Harry Smith's Heaven and Earth Magic - that was very difficult, but today's films, will likely be the most difficult screenings of all. It is with some trepidation that I programmed these films. They were both films I was thinking of programming but decided against it for fear they would be too alienating. However, when I asked for suggestions for the new program, these two films were the two most requested, so if you don't like them you only have yourselves to blame. I like to think of myself as a showman. I like to put on a good show, and have people enjoy themselves. That's not to say you can't enjoy yourselves watching these films, but it's a different kind of enjoyment to the pleasures of narrative cinema.
I feel like I should give you something to work with here, some food for thought, something to mull over as you watch these films, but to do so runs the risk of misleading you, or sending you in the wrong direction, because ultimately the meaning of these films, especially Wavelength, is entirely subjective, even impossible. To be honest, I don't understand what this film is about anyway. I've read many articles, reviews and essays on wavelength, and none of them seem to understand it either. Instead, I will quickly sketch out some biographical and production details for both films.
The first film today, Wavelength, was directed by Canadian filmmaker Michael Snow in 1966 and released in 1967. Snow was a multidisciplinarian: artist, painter sculptor, jazz musician and filmmaker. He received the Canadian equivalent of an OBE and an Honorary Doctorate from the Sorbonne in France, the first artist to do so since Picasso. After watching Wavelength you may think to yourself - Gee, is it that easy? Snow is held in great esteem in Canada and elsewhere and this work was a big influence on the development of underground and experimental film, video art and installation based art.
Snow describes his work as "philosophical toys". He claims wavelength was informed by a spiritual impulse, and it is indeed a mandala-like object for meditation. The idea being that if you stare at something long enough, you will begin to see what's there, the implicit nature of the thing, if you like. Anyone who has ever sat and stared at a painting for forty five minutes will likely enjoy this film. For the rest of you, it's not too late to catch the Dixie Chicks playing in Cinema two.
The second film today is Andy Warhol's Vinyl, a very minimalist adaptation of the Anthony Burgess novel, A Clockwork Orange. Vinyl was produced in 1965, four years before Kubrick's adaptation. I'm sure you are all familiar with Kubrick's version of the film so you may have some fun noticing the similarities,if any. Apparently, Kubrick had seen and admired both films. The last shot in The Shining (a slow track into a photo of Jack Nicholson) has been referred to as Wavelength-lite. Similarly, the opening shot in Kubrick's version of Clockwork... bears resemblance to the opening of the Warhol version. It has been said that Wavelength is the fruit of Warhol's anti-aesthetic, yet the films are very different, despite their minimalist production strategies.
In closing, I'd just like to say that if you do find yourself bored by these films, it could be worse. I could have screened Warhol's Sleep, an eight hour film consisting entirely of a sleeping figure, or Empire, a twenty four hour film consisting of nothing but a shot of the Empire State Building.
Thanks a lot. Enjoy the films.
Friday 3 August 2007
This is Len's blog
I googled myself (go on... admit it, you've done it) to find the text for the article below and turned up this excellent film blog, Oh What a World, from cinematheque member, Len. Thanks Len - you rock! Please check it out.
www.old-whores-diet.blogspot.com
www.old-whores-diet.blogspot.com
The Devil Made Me Do It
From Sydney Morning Herald
December 20, 2006
by Clare Morgan
Type "Satanic Hollywood" into Google and up pop more than 830,000 hits, ranging from articles on Jayne Mansfield's membership of the Church of Satan to rants against Scientology and sleazy Hollywood gossip sites.
No real surprises there. Hollywood - as Brett Garten, the curator of the Chauvel cinema's Cinematheque program, observes - has long been regarded as a dark satanic mill, intent on perverting the minds of impressionable youth.
So, just in time for Christmas, Garten is presenting a program on the dark side of movie making, Satanic History of Hollywood.
After a 30-minute multimedia presentation on Hollywood's satanic influences, Garten will screen three little-known films from the genre: Lucifer Rising, Kenneth Anger's 1972 tapestry of images set to Bobby Beausoleil's psychedelic rock score; Anger's short 1969 film Invocation of My Demon Brother, with Moog soundtrack by Mick Jagger; and Seventh Victim, a 1943 film about a society of devil-worshippers in Greenwich Village who try to silence one of their members when she endangers their secrecy.
"I won't be leading a black Mass or anything, just having a few laughs," says Garten, a film buff and collector.
From The Devil's Manor to The Omen and beyond, the Devil has been a regular star of the big screen and has frequently ended up with the best lines.
"Satanism peaked in Hollywood in the '60s," Garten says. "If you want to look at the satanic underbelly of Hollywood, all the roads lead back to one man: Kenneth Anger. He was a very influential character. He only made about 10 films but they've had a great impact on filmmaking. He pioneered the use of pop music in his films, that sort of music montage style you get today.
"He also wrote the book Hollywood Babylon. It's not that far from Hollywood Babylon to NW - he pioneered all that trash mag, celebrity gossip. It's funny, the Greek word for devil, diabolus, means gossip or slanderer. So there's this idea that the devil is a liar and a gossip. That's basically what I'll be doing - the ultimate gossip session on all these famous people who dabbled in the black arts."
But how much of it was dabbling and how much was serious satanic worship?
"Some of the Christian people who've investigated this have said that Anton LaVey, author of The Satanic Bible, made it seem tongue-in-cheek and silly, like a sort of hedonistic religion," Garten says. "But, really, he thought there was something more to it. Certainly, Kenneth Anger was notorious for putting curses on people."
In fact, Anger viewed his films as spells. "Actually, I was going to warn people to stay away from this show," says Garten half-seriously. "When I was up late the other night watching Invocation of My Demon Brother, I found it terrifying. So I'm warning people that these films are dark. It's going to take all the Christmas spirit you can muster to ward off the bad vibes of these films.
"But then, going Christmas shopping in Myer can't be much worse."
Garten says Anger is still around, "travelling the world, showing films at festivals, getting prizes and honorary doctorates, but he's basically a homeless guy - God, I hope he doesn't read this".
Garten says his aim with the Cinematheque program is to follow the lead of Henri Langlois, founder of the Cinematheque Francaise.
"His agenda was basically the preservation of film and film education, so that's where I'm coming from - to screen films that aren't seen anywhere else, from all genres, all eras, all nations and hopefully inject some sort of film culture into the city. I wanted to try to create a little community of film buffs - not just to embalm the classics of cinema but really look at the margins."
He hopes Saturday's show will be an improvement on his last program on the occult. "Jaimie [Leonarder] and I did a satanic show about 10 years ago and it's taken me this long to recover from that experience. It was one of those shows where everything that could go wrong did. It was a terrible show. The only people who showed up were a buck's party of drunken skinheads and we basically ended up getting booted out of there.
"I'm hoping things will go better this time, although I'm worried this article might bring out the religious fundamentalists."
Any protesters might include the Chauvel's occasional neighbours, the Hillsong congregation. "I think the fundamentalist Christians might enjoy the show because most of the material comes from their research. I am sympathetic to their point of view - I think Hollywood is the satanic centre of the universe and I'm sure the gates of hell, if they're anywhere, are somewhere in Hollywood."
Satanic History of Hollywood is on at the Chauvel cinema, Paddington, on Saturday from 1pm.
Five evil pieces
The Exorcist Has a film gone through such quantities of pea soup before or since?
Rosemary's Baby Roman Polanski's creepy film about the spawn of Satan - and no, we don't mean the Olsen twins.
The Omen The name Damien didn't seem so cute after this shockfest.
The Devil's Advocate Al Pacino plays the Devil as a New York attorney - which is not much of a stretch, really.
Angel Heart Robert De Niro kills off the egg industry as the mysterious Louis Cyphre.
Wednesday 1 August 2007
Transcript of Introduction to Amazing World of Ghosts 30/9/6
Good afternoon ladies and gentleman and welcome to the Australian premiere of Wheeler Dixon’s The Amazing World of Ghosts. It’s not everyday that a film has its Australian premiere twenty eight years after it was produced, but then, it’s not everyday that films like Amazing World of Ghosts are produced. For me, this is the most important screening in the whole cinematheque program as this is the rarest of all the films in the program and something of a scoop. Let me tell you the whole story. We have plenty of time today.
The film appears to belong to what is respectably known as the "speculative documentary" genre, a craze that reached its zenith in the post-hippie, new-age '70s with films like Chariots of the Gods, The Bermuda Triangle and The Mysterious Monsters. The Amazing World of Ghosts came at the tail end of the craze and was to me a kind of death knell for the whole genre. I say it appears to belong to the genre, as it also seems to fit into the smaller, but more interesting genre of hoax documentary, or as its come to be called these days, the mock-u-mentary. While it is an inept, repetitive and even infuriating film, it is also a significant work, not just for where it sits historically, but also for where it sits in the oeuvre of its director, Wheeler Dixon. More on him later.
The patron saint of the hoax documentary is Orson Welles, whose 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast virtually invented the genre, although it did have precedents in science and literature, for example the Piltdown Man, Mencken's Bathtub Hoax and some of Poe's work. Welles’ F is for Fake was also an important work in the genre - Is everything fake in that movie? The most famous mock-u-mentary, Spinal Tap, popularised the hoax documentary as a vehicle for comedy: Forgotten Silver, Fear of a Black Hat, Waiting for Guffman, The Making of .. And God Spoke, while the '90s saw a mini revival of the genre in the horror field, beginning with Man Bites Dog and culminating with the enormous success of The Blair Witch Project. On April Fools Day in 1977, the hoax documentary even turned up on British television in the form of the "documentary", Alternative 3, that proved so convincing the author, Leslie Watkins, began to think he had inadvertently stumbled upon some top secret conspiracy and fled to New Zealand to escape the controversy.
About five years ago I bought a 16mm print of a film UFO Exclusive from the estate of the late Bob Johnson, the former owner of the Encore Cinema in Surry Hills. I expected it to be another run-of-the-mill, UFOs-are-real documentary. A friend Andrew watched it and claimed he'd never seen anything like it. The only thing he could compare it to was Tribulation 99. I ran it and within five minutes knew that this was something else again. The director was someone called Wheeler Dixon, a name I recognised but couldn’t quite place, and foolishly, didn’t follow it up at the time.
About four years later, I was trawling ebay late one night, looking for 16mm prints to add to my collection, when I saw a listing for a film called World of Ghosts. Note that world was spelt w-r-o-l-d (only on ebay). I did a quick search on imdb.com and reading the user comments I thought to myself, "this sounds just like UFO Exclusive", and sure enough, I checked the director and yes, it was the same Wheeler Dixon character that made UFO Exclusive. So I googled Wheeler Dixon and came up with a number of references to Winston Wheeler Dixon, the Professor of Film Studies at the University of Nebraska, a prolific author of over forty film books and a former avant-garde filmmaker. Surely this couldn’t be the same guy, I thought at first. It was not on his resume published on the web. Then I remembered I had read and loved one of Mr. Winston Wheeler Dixon's books, It Looks at You: The Returned Gaze of Cinema and I thought, "maybe this is the same guy." So I google image searched Wheeler Dixon and found this picture:
That's when I realised it must be the same guy. It was the 16mm projector that gave it away. Next, I found a marvellous review of AWOG by David Deal, the author of the EuroSpy Guide, on http://www.theunexplained.net/rt_10_21_05.htm, that confirmed my suspicions. Needless to say, Deal’s review of the film got me very excited. To quote the opening paragraph of the review:
“What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is the holy grail of speculative documentaries. There was no film footage shot specifically for this project nor do we have those sometimes annoying interviews with “experts” or eyewitnesses. The film is made up entirely of nonsensical narration over stock footage, photographs, animation, and even old silent films; 90-plus minutes of the most insincere and thoroughly enjoyable baloney you are likely to see.”
The price was right and it was closing overnight, so I put a bid on, and went to bed. I lay in bed for an hour, not sleeping, thinking, "God I hope no one outbids me." I was feeling that addictive ebay buzz.
The next day I woke up, raced to the computer, and was very happy to see my bid was the only one. I sent off the money for the film and waited anxiously.
My happiness was short-lived. When the parcel arrived I discovered that the first reel was missing. I emailed the seller, thanking him for sending the film, but pointing out that one of the reels was missing and could he please have a look around at home for the missing reel. I received a rather terse reply, "Sorry, but the film was sold as is. That’s how I bought it.” Keeping calm, I replied back. "Well, yes, ok, I accept that, but could you have a look around home anyway, and if you could contact the guy you bought it from and ask him to have a look around too, that would be great. A few weeks went by, without reply so I decided to step things up. “Look, I will give you a hundred US dollars, three times what I paid for the film if you can find the missing reel.”
Anyway, a few more weeks past, and the possibility of curating this cinematheque program came up. I really wanted to show the film, so I wrote to the seller, "Dude, you’ve got to fucking find that reel. This is a really important film, perhaps lost, I’ve never heard of another copy out there. I really want to show it at the Cinematheque here in Sydney.” It seemed to work for a couple of days later I received an email saying, “I found it. It was in a tin marked ‘Halloween’. Don’t worry about the money, it’s my fault. I will send it to you.” Needless to say, my heart sang with this news.
Now I had the print, the next thing to do was ask Mr. Dixon for his permission to screen it. I found his email address and wondered, if he disowns the film, how am I going to broach the subject. So I carefully carefully composed an email that was all in the negative. I thought being an avant-gardist, Dixon might appreciate the tone.
Dear Mr Dixon,
My name is not Brett Garten and I am not the curator of the Chauvel Cinematheque in Sydney. I recently did not discover a 16mm print of the film, The Amazing World of Ghosts. I realise you didn’t make this film, but what I was wondering was, why didn’t you make this film?
Yours sincerely,
Brett Garten
Curator, Chauvel Cinematheque
Not surprisingly, he never replied.
So last night I tried directory and got the number for the University of Nebraska and rang there but it was Friday afternoon over there, and all I got was Mr. Dixon's recorded message, on which I left a similar, cryptic message.
So I think Mr Dixon would rather forget about this little film and his short career as a documentary filmmaker, which to me is a shame, because I think the Amazing World of Ghosts and his other film, UFO Exclusive (a third film UFO: Top Secret exists in this series which I have yet to see), are both terrific, and represent, not only an important landmark in avant-garde hoax documentary, but also illustrate Dixon's own philosophy on film, represented in the title of the book I referred to earlier, It Looks at You. Rather than tarnish his reputation, I believe it would do the opposite, and cement his position, not just as an avant garde filmmaker, but as a film theorist as well.
Briefly, and without the luxury of rereading the book, Dixon's thesis is that the viewer has become the viewed, and that this "returned gaze of the cinema" possesses its own totalitarian ideology. Dixon illustrates his point with references to the widespread use of home video footage in the news, surveillance cameras and their subsequent use in reality TV, before looking to Warhol, Brakhage and others who suvert this returned gaze. By recontextualising found footage from educational films and documentaries, The Amazing World of Ghosts also subverts this ideological gaze in its own hokey way.
More importantly, to me at least, and the reason I wanted to play this film so badly, is Dixon's recurring exortation that the canon of American film classics is a bloated corpse and that in the post-modern world the margins become the centre. His call to investigate other cinemas: B-movies, industrial, scientific and educational films, third world cinema, is something I hope to do with this cinematheque, starting here, with the truly Amazing World of Ghosts.
Enjoy the movie.
The film appears to belong to what is respectably known as the "speculative documentary" genre, a craze that reached its zenith in the post-hippie, new-age '70s with films like Chariots of the Gods, The Bermuda Triangle and The Mysterious Monsters. The Amazing World of Ghosts came at the tail end of the craze and was to me a kind of death knell for the whole genre. I say it appears to belong to the genre, as it also seems to fit into the smaller, but more interesting genre of hoax documentary, or as its come to be called these days, the mock-u-mentary. While it is an inept, repetitive and even infuriating film, it is also a significant work, not just for where it sits historically, but also for where it sits in the oeuvre of its director, Wheeler Dixon. More on him later.
The patron saint of the hoax documentary is Orson Welles, whose 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast virtually invented the genre, although it did have precedents in science and literature, for example the Piltdown Man, Mencken's Bathtub Hoax and some of Poe's work. Welles’ F is for Fake was also an important work in the genre - Is everything fake in that movie? The most famous mock-u-mentary, Spinal Tap, popularised the hoax documentary as a vehicle for comedy: Forgotten Silver, Fear of a Black Hat, Waiting for Guffman, The Making of .. And God Spoke, while the '90s saw a mini revival of the genre in the horror field, beginning with Man Bites Dog and culminating with the enormous success of The Blair Witch Project. On April Fools Day in 1977, the hoax documentary even turned up on British television in the form of the "documentary", Alternative 3, that proved so convincing the author, Leslie Watkins, began to think he had inadvertently stumbled upon some top secret conspiracy and fled to New Zealand to escape the controversy.
Outside of the mainstream, the hoax documentary has proven particularly fruitful for one filmmaker, San Francisco eccentric Craig Baldwin, whose Tribulation 99, added found-footage cut-up and aggressively self-conscious, crackpot conspiracy theories to the mix. I think Amazing World of Ghosts was a big influence on Baldwin. The use of a breathless, manic narrator is common to both films. Baldwin even uses some of the same music and footage used in Dixon's other hoax doco, UFO: Exclusive. Tribulation 99 in turn inspired other found-footage filmmakers, and Baldwin's Other Cinema DVD label has released many of his protoges.
To use a phrase found in the speculative documentary genre, Amazing World of Ghosts is a kind of "missing link" between the old UFO/bigfoot/bermuda triangle type hoax doco, where the filmmaker at least pretended to be sincere, and the post-modern, parodic form of the genre, best represented by Spinal Tap (in the mainstream) and Baldwin (on the margins) where both the filmmaker and the audience are (usually) in on the joke.
The transition between these two stages of the genre is evident in the structure of the film itself. In the beginning, one could be forgiven for believing the film is a sincere investigation of the paranormal. Apart from the brilliant and absurd opening sequence, where footage of a child wandering the streets at night (taken from an old educational film) is recontextualised using a spooky voice-over to set the scene, the film soon settles into the familiar form and structure of the speculative documentary as it was at the time. But, as the film grinds on, you begin to twig that something is amiss. As one reviewer on the IMDB puts it,
To use a phrase found in the speculative documentary genre, Amazing World of Ghosts is a kind of "missing link" between the old UFO/bigfoot/bermuda triangle type hoax doco, where the filmmaker at least pretended to be sincere, and the post-modern, parodic form of the genre, best represented by Spinal Tap (in the mainstream) and Baldwin (on the margins) where both the filmmaker and the audience are (usually) in on the joke.
The transition between these two stages of the genre is evident in the structure of the film itself. In the beginning, one could be forgiven for believing the film is a sincere investigation of the paranormal. Apart from the brilliant and absurd opening sequence, where footage of a child wandering the streets at night (taken from an old educational film) is recontextualised using a spooky voice-over to set the scene, the film soon settles into the familiar form and structure of the speculative documentary as it was at the time. But, as the film grinds on, you begin to twig that something is amiss. As one reviewer on the IMDB puts it,
"About halfway through the film the absurdity of the project soon starts dawning on you. You realise, after narrator Syd intones his hundredth page of borderline nonsensical narration, that this film is a joke. From that point on, you just go for the ride."
Another IMDB review thought the, "director had bought a stack of reels from the local flea market, edited them together at random, slapped some old records onto the soundtrack, and added a ridiculous voice-over narration." A fair summation of the movie, but is there something more to it, some other intention of the director. Before I get to that, I want to tell you the story of how I came to acquire this print of the film.
Another IMDB review thought the, "director had bought a stack of reels from the local flea market, edited them together at random, slapped some old records onto the soundtrack, and added a ridiculous voice-over narration." A fair summation of the movie, but is there something more to it, some other intention of the director. Before I get to that, I want to tell you the story of how I came to acquire this print of the film.
About five years ago I bought a 16mm print of a film UFO Exclusive from the estate of the late Bob Johnson, the former owner of the Encore Cinema in Surry Hills. I expected it to be another run-of-the-mill, UFOs-are-real documentary. A friend Andrew watched it and claimed he'd never seen anything like it. The only thing he could compare it to was Tribulation 99. I ran it and within five minutes knew that this was something else again. The director was someone called Wheeler Dixon, a name I recognised but couldn’t quite place, and foolishly, didn’t follow it up at the time.
About four years later, I was trawling ebay late one night, looking for 16mm prints to add to my collection, when I saw a listing for a film called World of Ghosts. Note that world was spelt w-r-o-l-d (only on ebay). I did a quick search on imdb.com and reading the user comments I thought to myself, "this sounds just like UFO Exclusive", and sure enough, I checked the director and yes, it was the same Wheeler Dixon character that made UFO Exclusive. So I googled Wheeler Dixon and came up with a number of references to Winston Wheeler Dixon, the Professor of Film Studies at the University of Nebraska, a prolific author of over forty film books and a former avant-garde filmmaker. Surely this couldn’t be the same guy, I thought at first. It was not on his resume published on the web. Then I remembered I had read and loved one of Mr. Winston Wheeler Dixon's books, It Looks at You: The Returned Gaze of Cinema and I thought, "maybe this is the same guy." So I google image searched Wheeler Dixon and found this picture:
That's when I realised it must be the same guy. It was the 16mm projector that gave it away. Next, I found a marvellous review of AWOG by David Deal, the author of the EuroSpy Guide, on http://www.theunexplained.net/rt_10_21_05.htm, that confirmed my suspicions. Needless to say, Deal’s review of the film got me very excited. To quote the opening paragraph of the review:
“What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is the holy grail of speculative documentaries. There was no film footage shot specifically for this project nor do we have those sometimes annoying interviews with “experts” or eyewitnesses. The film is made up entirely of nonsensical narration over stock footage, photographs, animation, and even old silent films; 90-plus minutes of the most insincere and thoroughly enjoyable baloney you are likely to see.”
The price was right and it was closing overnight, so I put a bid on, and went to bed. I lay in bed for an hour, not sleeping, thinking, "God I hope no one outbids me." I was feeling that addictive ebay buzz.
The next day I woke up, raced to the computer, and was very happy to see my bid was the only one. I sent off the money for the film and waited anxiously.
My happiness was short-lived. When the parcel arrived I discovered that the first reel was missing. I emailed the seller, thanking him for sending the film, but pointing out that one of the reels was missing and could he please have a look around at home for the missing reel. I received a rather terse reply, "Sorry, but the film was sold as is. That’s how I bought it.” Keeping calm, I replied back. "Well, yes, ok, I accept that, but could you have a look around home anyway, and if you could contact the guy you bought it from and ask him to have a look around too, that would be great. A few weeks went by, without reply so I decided to step things up. “Look, I will give you a hundred US dollars, three times what I paid for the film if you can find the missing reel.”
Anyway, a few more weeks past, and the possibility of curating this cinematheque program came up. I really wanted to show the film, so I wrote to the seller, "Dude, you’ve got to fucking find that reel. This is a really important film, perhaps lost, I’ve never heard of another copy out there. I really want to show it at the Cinematheque here in Sydney.” It seemed to work for a couple of days later I received an email saying, “I found it. It was in a tin marked ‘Halloween’. Don’t worry about the money, it’s my fault. I will send it to you.” Needless to say, my heart sang with this news.
Now I had the print, the next thing to do was ask Mr. Dixon for his permission to screen it. I found his email address and wondered, if he disowns the film, how am I going to broach the subject. So I carefully carefully composed an email that was all in the negative. I thought being an avant-gardist, Dixon might appreciate the tone.
Dear Mr Dixon,
My name is not Brett Garten and I am not the curator of the Chauvel Cinematheque in Sydney. I recently did not discover a 16mm print of the film, The Amazing World of Ghosts. I realise you didn’t make this film, but what I was wondering was, why didn’t you make this film?
Yours sincerely,
Brett Garten
Curator, Chauvel Cinematheque
Not surprisingly, he never replied.
So last night I tried directory and got the number for the University of Nebraska and rang there but it was Friday afternoon over there, and all I got was Mr. Dixon's recorded message, on which I left a similar, cryptic message.
So I think Mr Dixon would rather forget about this little film and his short career as a documentary filmmaker, which to me is a shame, because I think the Amazing World of Ghosts and his other film, UFO Exclusive (a third film UFO: Top Secret exists in this series which I have yet to see), are both terrific, and represent, not only an important landmark in avant-garde hoax documentary, but also illustrate Dixon's own philosophy on film, represented in the title of the book I referred to earlier, It Looks at You. Rather than tarnish his reputation, I believe it would do the opposite, and cement his position, not just as an avant garde filmmaker, but as a film theorist as well.
Briefly, and without the luxury of rereading the book, Dixon's thesis is that the viewer has become the viewed, and that this "returned gaze of the cinema" possesses its own totalitarian ideology. Dixon illustrates his point with references to the widespread use of home video footage in the news, surveillance cameras and their subsequent use in reality TV, before looking to Warhol, Brakhage and others who suvert this returned gaze. By recontextualising found footage from educational films and documentaries, The Amazing World of Ghosts also subverts this ideological gaze in its own hokey way.
More importantly, to me at least, and the reason I wanted to play this film so badly, is Dixon's recurring exortation that the canon of American film classics is a bloated corpse and that in the post-modern world the margins become the centre. His call to investigate other cinemas: B-movies, industrial, scientific and educational films, third world cinema, is something I hope to do with this cinematheque, starting here, with the truly Amazing World of Ghosts.
Enjoy the movie.
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