Memorial Day weekend is the traditional unofficial start of summer, replete with barbeques and other outdoor soirees. Having been rushing from place to place all weekend, when I woke up early this morning, I just wanted to relax and sit back to watch something unexpected. I chose The Lifeguard, a 2013 film starring Kristen Bell. When this movie initially came out, I was excited to see Bell in a feature film that wasn't a B-level comedy and thus something very different for her that might show off the fabulous dramatic acting chops all we Veronica Mars fans know she has in her. But when I heard more about the film's premise, I wasn't sure if I'd want to watch if after all. In the end, when the movie showed up on Netflix, I decided to add it to my queue and today it seemed like the best candidate for my mood.
The Lifeguard is a slow moving but engrossing film about Leigh London, an almost 30-year-old ("29 and 10 months" as her mother points out early on) Associated Press journalist living in New York City and having an affair with her supervisor. When the latter gets engaged to someone else and seems to be dismissing what Leigh considers an important story by relegating it to a lesser section, she has a bit of crisis and decides to take a leave of absence. Leigh grabs up a duffle bag and her cat Moose before returning to her parents' house in Connecticut, where she picks up right where she left off. She gets a job as a summer lifeguard at the community pool and starts socializing with her former high school chums Mel and Todd. The trio end up spending a lot of their free time hanging out with a trio of current high school students, wannabe drop-outs who join the older crew in drinking and smoking weed out in the woods. And that's when things start to heat up between Leigh and 16-year-old "Little Jason," in a situation that every viewer knows will never end well.
It's hard to know where to even begin with discussing The Lifeguard. As I mentioned above, it definitely held my attention despite being a movie without any big special effects or honestly even a huge amount of backstory (the short time frame of an hour and an half meant that a lot of the past lives of these characters was mentioned in passing only or not fully explained). There is, however, a decent amount of time invested in exploring these characters right now and trying to elucidate their complicated feelings. The Lifeguard is one of those rare pieces of art in which you can enjoy the product without actually liking a single character. For instance, Leigh is the film's main focus and she's hardly someone you can root for, especially as her actions take her down more and more twisted paths. As the movie unfolds, you learn more about Leigh's past as the perpetual "good girl" - the school valedictorian who made all the right choices and never once before questioned where she was going. You can feel a little bit of sympathy for her as she starts to unravel and wonders what's next for her life; for instance, you can really see her conflicted feelings as she tries to council Jason about staying in high school and getting a college degree as she herself is back in her high school job making barely above minimum wage after years of pushing herself to do her best in school. At the same time, however, the rushed introduction to the movie leaves you wondering what exactly caused Leigh to have this un-epiphany that left her feeling so unfocused. The story that she wrote was certainly something to bother and unnerve her, but it was hardly something to make her abandon everything on seemingly a whim. As for her relationship with her supervisor, it should hardly have come to a shock to anyone that a person who is cheating is going to eventually disappoint. Meanwhile, Leigh seemingly doesn't use any of her time in Connecticut to reflect or mature. Instead, she reverts to becoming a rebellious teen, spending her time being completely inconsiderate to her parents, working in a dead-end job, drinking and smoking in the woods, and literally hanging out with teenagers. As someone roughly the same age as Leigh and her friends, I honestly can't see the appeal of many of their actions even if I can understand some of their philosophical concerns. Things finally hit bottom in terms of the viewer's ability to empathize with Leigh when she becomes involved statutory rape. She may be lost and confused, but that doesn't make it even remotely right for her to take up a sexual relationship with a 16-year-old boy. The fact that nearly ever other character is unfazed by this turn of events may tamp down the outrage factor a bit, but no viewer is giving Leigh the person of the year award by the end of the movie.
The other characters are similarly unlikeable, if not quite at the same level. Leigh's father is the only exception to the rule in the movie; he seems like a genuinely jovial guy that anyone would like to spend time with for a friendly brunch or something. However, he's so little seen in the movie that his presence is negligible. Leigh's mother is so wrapped up in her own affairs that she can provide absolutely no anchor or guidance for Leigh as she flounders about pathetically. Again, there's a little bit of sympathy as her mother tries to explain how for years she felt like her existence was tied up with Leigh's and now is the time in her life to do something for herself, but she is so cold and harsh throughout that it's not hard to see how Leigh could turn out the way she did. Mel is a hot mess - she was apparently the one who was the antithesis of the "good girl" in high school but now she's turned her life around and seems to have all the markers of success - she's married and holds a good, steady job as the high school vice principal. But with Leigh back in her life and her own fears about not getting pregnant - or about getting pregnant and not being a good mother - rearing their ugly head, Mel backslides and becomes involved in these stupid delinquent behaviors. Her relationship with her husband seems anything but happy for the majority of the movie, and Mel just seems to be floundering as well. Todd is unhappy with his small-town life but doesn't want to take the initiative to change anything about his life, hiding behind thin excuses and choosing to forget his troubles by drowning them in alcohol and drugs. Jason and his friends are typical conflicted teenagers but are arguably more on the "bad kid" side than most; they all appear to have a lot of baggage in their lives but most of that is explored only peripherally. For example, "Big Jason," the father of the teen, refers obliquely to some rough things that happened in his son's life but doesn't expand on this at all. Big Jason, although playing but a small part in the movie, is also a character you can't get behind. He seems to pay little to no attention to his son, despite professing that the child has had major challenges to get through, and doesn't have the slightest concern about a woman nearly twice Jason's age striking up a relationship with him.
One thing I could definitely say was of interest about the movie is that it certainly makes you think. You could argue after watching this movie that the film isn't just about a generation (specifically, my generation) of unfocused and confused people - those who are adults in name and age but haven't quite figured out what that really means yet. It's also about exposing this myth that small towns are full of wholesome goodness while big cities are where the filth lives. Leigh finds something horrific in her story at the beginning of the movie (and let's not even go in the symbolism of that story, as the movie does expound on this pretty well on its own) and leaves the city, but she doesn't find solace in her hometown. There is tragedy awaiting her in the small town, and no one there seems to be completely free of baggage or fears of some sort. Everyone seems to be in some sort of crisis, whether it's the agony of being a teenager and hating everything in your life, the confusion of being a young adult who is trying to figure out where life goes next, or the disappointment of being a middle-aged person having to re-invent yourself after a big chunk of your life has changed. It's like someone was illustrating Erik Erikson's stages of psychosocial development by showing only the negative crises.
The movie can also be seen as a commentary of gender roles and inequality in so many different aspects. While a small part of the movie, the crisis that Leigh's mother seems to be having after her daughter grows up and arguably doesn't need her any more is contrasted by her father being perfectly okay with her coming or going. Motherhood is an all-encompassing identity in a way that fatherhood isn't. This is reflected in the younger generation with Mel reacting extremely - and poorly - to the theoretical idea of becoming a parent while her husband seems completely unfazed by it. There's also the relationship between Leigh and Little Jason to consider. Early on, it's hinted that Todd is gay and Mel suggests that he may be interested in one of the boys. This seems to be condoned far more than her initial suspicions of Leigh and Little Jason's attraction to one another. Combine this with Big Jason's reaction upon hearing the news, and it's really not a pretty picture. It reflects real-life courts of opinion where older men having sex with teen-aged girls are consider perverts at best and rapists at worst while older women having sex with teen-aged boys is sadly brushed off by many as a sort of great achievement for the boys. It's a scary example of cognitive dissonance in which an age differential between sexual partners is both damaging and enviable, depending on the gender reversal. It was interesting to learn that this movie was written and directed by a woman; as I've noted before and many more articulate people than I have stated, when women get a voice in the arena everyone benefits from hearing their stories. In Hollywood, this means we get more than the standard fare of "chick flicks" that are simply romantic fantasies just as much about the leading man as the woman nominally at the heart of it. We get thought-provoking stories about all kinds of things beyond just romantic relationships and true female leads - sometimes strong and independent ones who we'd love to emulate, sometimes messy and confused ones who we vow never to become like.
Some final bits and pieces about the movie include a compelling soundtrack that meshed nicely with the cinematography and the overt themes. The cinematography was overall done very well, although there were a few scenes here and there with shaky camera work. I know this is a darling technique of filmmaker to symbolize any number of things including the characters' confused and hence shaken states of mind, but it's a pet peeve that I find distracting. When it's used too much, I feel like reprimanding the cameraperson with a stern "Just focus already!" With the pool and water being used as background - and symbols - a great deal, there's also a few times where we get the water on the camera lens issue also; this is another pet peeve of mine as I feel it serves to remind you of the fourth wall and thus takes you out of the experience of the movie's actions and into the experience of being a viewer. As I mentioned earlier, the beginning with Leigh's life in New York City was a little rushed with short clips of different situations all being sliced together in rapid succession. Perhaps the argument could be made that this was to give the viewer a sense of Leigh's confusion during this time period but I think it ended up providing a very incomplete view of what was going on at this point.
With all that mind, I'd recommend The Lifeguard for people who enjoy movies that make them think and provide slice-of-life portrayals of characters who resemble real people more than stock stereotypes. If you want action and characters you can love, don't even think about checking out this movie. But if you don't mind a messy set of characters struggling with life choices, you might just get pulled in to the pool alongside The Lifeguard.
Showing posts with label quirky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quirky. Show all posts
Monday, May 26, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
It Came in the Night, Night, Night: Rabbit's Moon
All of the talk this past month about the Chinese lunar rover Jade Rabbit has been making me think about Rabbit's Moon, a brief avant-garde film from boundary-pushing filmmaker Kenneth Anger. I first came across this short several years ago at an "Art After Hours" event at the Zimmerli Art Museum, which featured a screening of several of Anger's films as part of the evening's showcase. The other two films (Fireworks and Scorpio Rising) were so full of sadomasochism that it's difficult for me to say I "enjoyed" them, and I also think they took these dark elements a bit too far to be truly good films. But Rabbit's Moon has stuck with me over the years, with its punchy yet haunting soundtrack and cheesy but effective visuals. Filmed under a blue filter, the other worldly quality of the images also leave a lasting impression.
From the outset of this post, I should note that Kenneth Anger played around with Rabbit's Moon several times over a nearly 30-year period, editing it for length and changing the background music. The version which I prefer over all others is the final cut from 1979, and that is the one I will focus on here. It happens to be the shortest of all the versions (boiled down from 16 minutes with the original 1950 version to just under seven minutes); I think the reduction of the source material to its core elements makes it more emotionally resonating. Sometimes less really is more. The 1950 and 1972 versions boast a soundtrack consisting mostly of 1950s popular love ballads such as "I Only Have Eyes for You" and "Oh, What a Night." In contrast, the 1979 version features the more obscure 1976 glam rock song "It Came in the Night" by A Raincoat, which plays twice in a row in order to accompany the entirety of the film. This song is addictively catchy, and I also thinks it mirrors the film's content in a supplementary way rather than some of the too obvious choices in the original version (i.e., "There's a Moon Out Tonight"). Also, it appears that Anger sped up some of the character's actions to fit the faster paced music; I'm thinking particularly of the final dance sequence on the makeshift stage but it's apparent in other scenes as well.
With Rabbit's Moon, Kenneth Anger plays around with common myths that continue to permeate over the years as well as elements of various cultures, choosing a mix of Western and Eastern influences to populate his film. For starters, he uses a combination of Italian commedia dell'arte, French mime, and Japanese kabuki theater techniques in the staging and choreography of his short. The title itself refers to a legend about a rabbit that lives in the moon - a mythical creature that appears in both East Asian folklore and tribal North American storytelling. In Rabbit's Moon, we see images of both a beautiful white rabbit and a glowing white full moon, with Anger perhaps over handedly ensuring that we make the connection between the two. The main character's repeatedly reaching for and missing the moon symbolizes the illusory nature of chasing after such myths and fairy tales.
Speaking of the characters, Anger draws his characters from the classic rotation of archetypes found in commedia dell'arte. In Rabbit's Moon, Anger features Pierrot as the main character with strong supporting roles from Harlequin and Columbine. In traditional commedia dell'arte, Pierrot is a pitiable, foolish character who loves Columbine, who in turn will almost always leave him eventually for Harlequin. Anger gives us the traditional Pierrot with a twist - he never seems to have Columbine from the outset, although of course he remains in his role of pining for her once he sets eyes on her. Nevertheless, Pierrot is still the "sad clown" stereotype here that he usually is, with his yearning and grasping for a moon that is never in his reach anymore than Columbine is. Harlequin is typically known as the prankster who is willing to go to any lengths to dupe Pierrot and win Columbine's affections, and that's basically the role he plays here as well. And Columbine ... well, she's pretty much just the eye candy in this case. Unlike her traditional role of cheating on Pierrot with Harlequin, she doesn't work here to actively deceive Pierrot being as she isn't committed to him at any point. It is perhaps worth noting that the famous characters from commedia dell'arte, especially Pierrot, have been elevated to the level of myth themselves. (One of my favorite Pierrot-based tidbits is that Charlie Chaplin's own famous character of the Little Tramp is modeled on the Pierrot and was declared by fellow actor Harry Baur to be "the brother of Pierrot.") The characters being legendary ones themselves serves this film by further solidifying its place in playing with the role of myths in our lives.
When discussing the history of the commedia dell'arte, Wikipedia declares that "Audiences came to see the performers, with plot lines becoming secondary to the performance." The same can arguably be said of Rabbit's Moon, which is light in terms of plotting. The first half of the short shows a particularly down and out Pierrot, who is literally mooning over the moon as he tries to jump up and reach it but repeatedly misses. Nothing seems to make him happy and on repeated occasions, he simply lays himself down on the ground in the fetal position, signifying his unhappiness and seeming despair. As the soundtrack circles back to "It Came in the Night" for the second time with its ghoulish opening laugh, Harlequin appears on the scene attempting to entertain Pierrot with various antics, showing off his traditional attributes of agility and energy. Harlequin's finale includes showing the beautiful and ethereal Columbine to Pierrot, but then he steps in the way of Pierrot contacting Columbine. Harlequin and Columbine disappear, a lunar eclipse occurs, and Pierrot is once again left reaching for the moon unsuccessfully, eventually collapsing prostrate once more as the entire sequence ends.
But what happens - or doesn't happen as the case may be - in Rabbit's Moon is less important than the film's ability to broadcast universal emotions and touch upon important themes. Who amongst us cannot see ourselves in Pierrot's melancholic state at some point in our lives? Our fears and concerns may seem as foolish to an outsider as Pierrot reaching for the moon only to be disappointed over and over again. Pierrot may be pitiable but he is also identifiable in his grief. In the first half of the short, the main character's penchant for hanging his head despondently while holding his arms straight out horizontally creates a visual image reminiscent of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Here again Kenneth Anger shows that he's willing to play with iconic cultural references and is once more touching on the inability of myths to create fulfillment for certain people. This imagery has a historical root as well; the Wikipedia entry for Pierrot notes that in the late 19th century, "the Symbolists saw him as a lonely fellow-sufferer, crucified upon the rood of soulful sensitivity, his only friend the distant moon" and that this interpretation of the character led to a portrayal of a "Christ-like victim of the martyrdom that is Art." Indeed, the Symbolist movement seem to adopt Pierrot as their mascot, "[seeing] him as an emblem of suffering, with only the moon for a friend. Naturally, as Pierrot’s association with the moon (and thus, the night) deepened, it was easy to emphasize his darker qualities; eventually artists gave him a literally bleeding heart ... Since his sadness often caused his words to fail him, Pierrot is seen as the father of mime." These aspects of Pierrot's nature and legendary status are all - with the exception of the bloody heart - ones that Anger touches upon and tweaks as he presents the Pierrot of Rabbit's Moon.
In the second half of Rabbit's Moon it seems that with myths being unable to cause joy, Pierrot (and the viewer with him) turns to entertainment as a source of temporary happiness. Pierrot is indeed at least momentarily distracted by the show put on by Harlequin. But this is also seen to be illusory and unfulfilling. Harlequin has only two physical props - a lamp projector and a slapstick. (According to the Oxford Encyclopedia of Theatre and Performance, Harlequin's slapstick is a kind of magic wand that allows him to change the scenery so that the characters appear in a new locale as well as providing a way for him to make objects into different ones.) His other entertainments are pantomimed, with Harlequin hypnotizing and delighting Pierrot using an imaginary balance beam, juggling with nothing, and other parlor tricks reenacted out of thin air. The pantomime can be seen literally, for the vast majority of Rabbit's Moon action is done in exaggerated choreography, but I think it can also be viewed metaphorically. Harlequin's antics are empty actions, simple illusions used to pull the wool over Pierrot's eyes yet again, as these two characters are destined to fulfill their roles of prankster/cheat and fool/cuckold respectively over and over throughout time.
The lamp projector also serves to metaphorically bring these characters forward into the modern day (or at least the modern day of the 1950s-70s). Harlequin uses the projector to shine a light onto Columbine as she dances on a makeshift stage, performing a simple ballet for Pierrot's enjoyment. In a way, the lamp projector can be seen as a stand-in for the movie projector and thus becomes a way to use the film to comment on films themselves. Pierrot approaches the stage and stands just at its brink, dancing as he watches Columbine dance, but his movements do not exactly mimic hers nor do the two ever physically interact. They literally dance around each other rather than with one another. Pierrot also tries once more to get the moon and to show off its wonders to Columbine, but she does not seem to quite grasp the significance of his interest in the full moon. Pierrot seemingly worships Columbine, literally falling to his knees before her, while she views him with disdain, waving a nonchalant hand at him and putting her nose up in the air. To me, this scene seems to comment on how no matter how much we as viewers may get amazed by and invested in our favorite characters on the stage/screen (and in some cases, the actors who portray them), we will always be just outside the realm of their world - perhaps thinking that we are interacting with them as we shadow their movements but never actually engaging with them. Once again, the theme of illusions - and their subsequent disappointments - emerges through the imagery of Rabbit's Moon.
An interesting thought to consider is how several versions of the traditional legend of the moon rabbit note that the creature's immortalization upon the lunar surface is due to its self sacrifice. Love is a concept rooted in sacrificing one's self to another, of sublimating one's desires in order to promote the well-being of the loved one, of indeed subsuming one's very identity to become one with another human being. Thus, the moon that Pierrot is so desperately trying to reach can symbolize how this lonely person in the forest is seeking an all-fulfilling connection, an all-consuming loving relationship with another human being. The presence of Columbine further reinforces this, as she is the one meant to be Pierrot's partner in the traditional commedia dell'arte lore. Of course, as I've already mentioned several times, she is the one who will ultimately betray Pierrot's affections by leaving him for another man. Again, disappointment abounds in the landscape of Rabbit's Moon, and love is just one more thing that appears to disillusion Pierrot. To pull from Wikipedia's fountain of information on the Pierrot character again, that entry notes that in late 19th century pantomimes, Pierrot incarnations "would appear [as] sensitive moon-mad souls duped into criminality—usually by love of a fickle Columbine—and so inevitably marked for destruction." The self-sacrificing character aligned with the rabbit moon legend is Pierrot, but this sacrifice is not reciprocated nor does it gain him any reward as it does for the mythic rabbit. For a character who is seen almost always as a naïve fool, Pierrot is perhaps a warning to all of us when we view how myth, religion, entertainment, and love ultimately leave him abandoned to a wooded glen, once again alone in the world.
One thing I haven't touched upon yet is the appearance of the wood's children. Two small children emerge from the forest and onto the clearing twice during the film. I'm not quite sure what to make of the children or their place in the film. They appear from behind and underneath Pierrot's outstretched arms, suggesting that he somehow "births" them, but they are not recognizable characters to me. The first time they appear is during the first half of the film when Pierrot is flopping about sadly and all alone. One child holds a mirror to Pierrot and he turns away in disgust. The other child holds a shiny stringed instrument, which neither he nor Pierrot makes any attempt to play. Later when Columbine dances on the stage, the two children make a second appearance with the same props. They kneel where the footlights of the stage would be if it had any, and Columbine briefly admires herself in the mirror; the instrument again remains unused by anyone. The next cut back to the stage finds the children gone. Like I said earlier, I'm unsure of the significance of the children's appearance beyond that they indicate further in the first half how Pierrot won't be made happy by just anything and that in the second half they bolster Columbine's self-preening and vanity. It's also worth noting that in the longer original version, they appear a third time to entice Pierrot into a mystical place that becomes his ultimate undoing.
A final thing that I've neglected to mention up until this point is the introduction to the film. It opens with Pierrot lying on the ground in the forest's clearing as though sleeping. Indeed, it appears at first as though he is waking up and is unsure as to where he is and/or what is going on around him. As he arises and steps about gingerly, he seems to notice the moon for the first time and hence his fascination begins. Again, I'm not quite sure what to make of Pierrot seemingly dumped off in the woods by unknown forces and awakening to confusion followed by longing for the unattainable. It almost seems more explainable that Pierrot would go out seeking a way to get closer to the moon, but it could be argued that he is brought here by forces outside his control, symbolizing how life often brings us to unexpected places. Then again, it could also be argued that Pierrot picking himself up off the ground (where he lays at the end of the film after exhausting himself with his attempts to grasp illusions) is simply a cycle beginning all over again. We may think we are seeing Pierrot set his gaze upon the moon for the first time, but he may have simply been through this whole pantomime (literally and metaphorically) once or even many times before. Again, I think this is also symbolic of film itself. Anyone viewing a movie (well, a well-done movie) for the first time has fresh insights and feels like they are stumbling upon something raw and real; however, all they are seeing is something that was rehashed over and over again as the cast/crew made the finish product and as other audiences watched it in the past.
At any rate, those are my interpretations of the film's characters and scenes. Of course, as with all works of art, there can be many different schools of thought on the meaning. Indeed, one of the things I love about Rabbit's Moon is that despite its short length, I always catch something new in it upon re-viewing. To borrow from Wikipedia again in regards to the myriad interpretations of the Pierrot character over the years, one incarnation is "the narcissistic dreamer clutching at the moon, which could symbolize many things, from spiritual perfection to death." Perhaps my interpretation is completely off base and instead the moral takeaway of Rabbit's Moon is not a solemn dirge to make note of all life's disappointments but a celebratory melody of a character awakening to spiritual perfection by casting away previous distractions. Take a gander at Rabbit's Moon. Mull it over. What do you think Kenneth Anger is trying to say? Is your interpretation as bleak as mine?
From the outset of this post, I should note that Kenneth Anger played around with Rabbit's Moon several times over a nearly 30-year period, editing it for length and changing the background music. The version which I prefer over all others is the final cut from 1979, and that is the one I will focus on here. It happens to be the shortest of all the versions (boiled down from 16 minutes with the original 1950 version to just under seven minutes); I think the reduction of the source material to its core elements makes it more emotionally resonating. Sometimes less really is more. The 1950 and 1972 versions boast a soundtrack consisting mostly of 1950s popular love ballads such as "I Only Have Eyes for You" and "Oh, What a Night." In contrast, the 1979 version features the more obscure 1976 glam rock song "It Came in the Night" by A Raincoat, which plays twice in a row in order to accompany the entirety of the film. This song is addictively catchy, and I also thinks it mirrors the film's content in a supplementary way rather than some of the too obvious choices in the original version (i.e., "There's a Moon Out Tonight"). Also, it appears that Anger sped up some of the character's actions to fit the faster paced music; I'm thinking particularly of the final dance sequence on the makeshift stage but it's apparent in other scenes as well.
With Rabbit's Moon, Kenneth Anger plays around with common myths that continue to permeate over the years as well as elements of various cultures, choosing a mix of Western and Eastern influences to populate his film. For starters, he uses a combination of Italian commedia dell'arte, French mime, and Japanese kabuki theater techniques in the staging and choreography of his short. The title itself refers to a legend about a rabbit that lives in the moon - a mythical creature that appears in both East Asian folklore and tribal North American storytelling. In Rabbit's Moon, we see images of both a beautiful white rabbit and a glowing white full moon, with Anger perhaps over handedly ensuring that we make the connection between the two. The main character's repeatedly reaching for and missing the moon symbolizes the illusory nature of chasing after such myths and fairy tales.
Speaking of the characters, Anger draws his characters from the classic rotation of archetypes found in commedia dell'arte. In Rabbit's Moon, Anger features Pierrot as the main character with strong supporting roles from Harlequin and Columbine. In traditional commedia dell'arte, Pierrot is a pitiable, foolish character who loves Columbine, who in turn will almost always leave him eventually for Harlequin. Anger gives us the traditional Pierrot with a twist - he never seems to have Columbine from the outset, although of course he remains in his role of pining for her once he sets eyes on her. Nevertheless, Pierrot is still the "sad clown" stereotype here that he usually is, with his yearning and grasping for a moon that is never in his reach anymore than Columbine is. Harlequin is typically known as the prankster who is willing to go to any lengths to dupe Pierrot and win Columbine's affections, and that's basically the role he plays here as well. And Columbine ... well, she's pretty much just the eye candy in this case. Unlike her traditional role of cheating on Pierrot with Harlequin, she doesn't work here to actively deceive Pierrot being as she isn't committed to him at any point. It is perhaps worth noting that the famous characters from commedia dell'arte, especially Pierrot, have been elevated to the level of myth themselves. (One of my favorite Pierrot-based tidbits is that Charlie Chaplin's own famous character of the Little Tramp is modeled on the Pierrot and was declared by fellow actor Harry Baur to be "the brother of Pierrot.") The characters being legendary ones themselves serves this film by further solidifying its place in playing with the role of myths in our lives.
When discussing the history of the commedia dell'arte, Wikipedia declares that "Audiences came to see the performers, with plot lines becoming secondary to the performance." The same can arguably be said of Rabbit's Moon, which is light in terms of plotting. The first half of the short shows a particularly down and out Pierrot, who is literally mooning over the moon as he tries to jump up and reach it but repeatedly misses. Nothing seems to make him happy and on repeated occasions, he simply lays himself down on the ground in the fetal position, signifying his unhappiness and seeming despair. As the soundtrack circles back to "It Came in the Night" for the second time with its ghoulish opening laugh, Harlequin appears on the scene attempting to entertain Pierrot with various antics, showing off his traditional attributes of agility and energy. Harlequin's finale includes showing the beautiful and ethereal Columbine to Pierrot, but then he steps in the way of Pierrot contacting Columbine. Harlequin and Columbine disappear, a lunar eclipse occurs, and Pierrot is once again left reaching for the moon unsuccessfully, eventually collapsing prostrate once more as the entire sequence ends.
But what happens - or doesn't happen as the case may be - in Rabbit's Moon is less important than the film's ability to broadcast universal emotions and touch upon important themes. Who amongst us cannot see ourselves in Pierrot's melancholic state at some point in our lives? Our fears and concerns may seem as foolish to an outsider as Pierrot reaching for the moon only to be disappointed over and over again. Pierrot may be pitiable but he is also identifiable in his grief. In the first half of the short, the main character's penchant for hanging his head despondently while holding his arms straight out horizontally creates a visual image reminiscent of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Here again Kenneth Anger shows that he's willing to play with iconic cultural references and is once more touching on the inability of myths to create fulfillment for certain people. This imagery has a historical root as well; the Wikipedia entry for Pierrot notes that in the late 19th century, "the Symbolists saw him as a lonely fellow-sufferer, crucified upon the rood of soulful sensitivity, his only friend the distant moon" and that this interpretation of the character led to a portrayal of a "Christ-like victim of the martyrdom that is Art." Indeed, the Symbolist movement seem to adopt Pierrot as their mascot, "[seeing] him as an emblem of suffering, with only the moon for a friend. Naturally, as Pierrot’s association with the moon (and thus, the night) deepened, it was easy to emphasize his darker qualities; eventually artists gave him a literally bleeding heart ... Since his sadness often caused his words to fail him, Pierrot is seen as the father of mime." These aspects of Pierrot's nature and legendary status are all - with the exception of the bloody heart - ones that Anger touches upon and tweaks as he presents the Pierrot of Rabbit's Moon.
In the second half of Rabbit's Moon it seems that with myths being unable to cause joy, Pierrot (and the viewer with him) turns to entertainment as a source of temporary happiness. Pierrot is indeed at least momentarily distracted by the show put on by Harlequin. But this is also seen to be illusory and unfulfilling. Harlequin has only two physical props - a lamp projector and a slapstick. (According to the Oxford Encyclopedia of Theatre and Performance, Harlequin's slapstick is a kind of magic wand that allows him to change the scenery so that the characters appear in a new locale as well as providing a way for him to make objects into different ones.) His other entertainments are pantomimed, with Harlequin hypnotizing and delighting Pierrot using an imaginary balance beam, juggling with nothing, and other parlor tricks reenacted out of thin air. The pantomime can be seen literally, for the vast majority of Rabbit's Moon action is done in exaggerated choreography, but I think it can also be viewed metaphorically. Harlequin's antics are empty actions, simple illusions used to pull the wool over Pierrot's eyes yet again, as these two characters are destined to fulfill their roles of prankster/cheat and fool/cuckold respectively over and over throughout time.
The lamp projector also serves to metaphorically bring these characters forward into the modern day (or at least the modern day of the 1950s-70s). Harlequin uses the projector to shine a light onto Columbine as she dances on a makeshift stage, performing a simple ballet for Pierrot's enjoyment. In a way, the lamp projector can be seen as a stand-in for the movie projector and thus becomes a way to use the film to comment on films themselves. Pierrot approaches the stage and stands just at its brink, dancing as he watches Columbine dance, but his movements do not exactly mimic hers nor do the two ever physically interact. They literally dance around each other rather than with one another. Pierrot also tries once more to get the moon and to show off its wonders to Columbine, but she does not seem to quite grasp the significance of his interest in the full moon. Pierrot seemingly worships Columbine, literally falling to his knees before her, while she views him with disdain, waving a nonchalant hand at him and putting her nose up in the air. To me, this scene seems to comment on how no matter how much we as viewers may get amazed by and invested in our favorite characters on the stage/screen (and in some cases, the actors who portray them), we will always be just outside the realm of their world - perhaps thinking that we are interacting with them as we shadow their movements but never actually engaging with them. Once again, the theme of illusions - and their subsequent disappointments - emerges through the imagery of Rabbit's Moon.
An interesting thought to consider is how several versions of the traditional legend of the moon rabbit note that the creature's immortalization upon the lunar surface is due to its self sacrifice. Love is a concept rooted in sacrificing one's self to another, of sublimating one's desires in order to promote the well-being of the loved one, of indeed subsuming one's very identity to become one with another human being. Thus, the moon that Pierrot is so desperately trying to reach can symbolize how this lonely person in the forest is seeking an all-fulfilling connection, an all-consuming loving relationship with another human being. The presence of Columbine further reinforces this, as she is the one meant to be Pierrot's partner in the traditional commedia dell'arte lore. Of course, as I've already mentioned several times, she is the one who will ultimately betray Pierrot's affections by leaving him for another man. Again, disappointment abounds in the landscape of Rabbit's Moon, and love is just one more thing that appears to disillusion Pierrot. To pull from Wikipedia's fountain of information on the Pierrot character again, that entry notes that in late 19th century pantomimes, Pierrot incarnations "would appear [as] sensitive moon-mad souls duped into criminality—usually by love of a fickle Columbine—and so inevitably marked for destruction." The self-sacrificing character aligned with the rabbit moon legend is Pierrot, but this sacrifice is not reciprocated nor does it gain him any reward as it does for the mythic rabbit. For a character who is seen almost always as a naïve fool, Pierrot is perhaps a warning to all of us when we view how myth, religion, entertainment, and love ultimately leave him abandoned to a wooded glen, once again alone in the world.
One thing I haven't touched upon yet is the appearance of the wood's children. Two small children emerge from the forest and onto the clearing twice during the film. I'm not quite sure what to make of the children or their place in the film. They appear from behind and underneath Pierrot's outstretched arms, suggesting that he somehow "births" them, but they are not recognizable characters to me. The first time they appear is during the first half of the film when Pierrot is flopping about sadly and all alone. One child holds a mirror to Pierrot and he turns away in disgust. The other child holds a shiny stringed instrument, which neither he nor Pierrot makes any attempt to play. Later when Columbine dances on the stage, the two children make a second appearance with the same props. They kneel where the footlights of the stage would be if it had any, and Columbine briefly admires herself in the mirror; the instrument again remains unused by anyone. The next cut back to the stage finds the children gone. Like I said earlier, I'm unsure of the significance of the children's appearance beyond that they indicate further in the first half how Pierrot won't be made happy by just anything and that in the second half they bolster Columbine's self-preening and vanity. It's also worth noting that in the longer original version, they appear a third time to entice Pierrot into a mystical place that becomes his ultimate undoing.
A final thing that I've neglected to mention up until this point is the introduction to the film. It opens with Pierrot lying on the ground in the forest's clearing as though sleeping. Indeed, it appears at first as though he is waking up and is unsure as to where he is and/or what is going on around him. As he arises and steps about gingerly, he seems to notice the moon for the first time and hence his fascination begins. Again, I'm not quite sure what to make of Pierrot seemingly dumped off in the woods by unknown forces and awakening to confusion followed by longing for the unattainable. It almost seems more explainable that Pierrot would go out seeking a way to get closer to the moon, but it could be argued that he is brought here by forces outside his control, symbolizing how life often brings us to unexpected places. Then again, it could also be argued that Pierrot picking himself up off the ground (where he lays at the end of the film after exhausting himself with his attempts to grasp illusions) is simply a cycle beginning all over again. We may think we are seeing Pierrot set his gaze upon the moon for the first time, but he may have simply been through this whole pantomime (literally and metaphorically) once or even many times before. Again, I think this is also symbolic of film itself. Anyone viewing a movie (well, a well-done movie) for the first time has fresh insights and feels like they are stumbling upon something raw and real; however, all they are seeing is something that was rehashed over and over again as the cast/crew made the finish product and as other audiences watched it in the past.
At any rate, those are my interpretations of the film's characters and scenes. Of course, as with all works of art, there can be many different schools of thought on the meaning. Indeed, one of the things I love about Rabbit's Moon is that despite its short length, I always catch something new in it upon re-viewing. To borrow from Wikipedia again in regards to the myriad interpretations of the Pierrot character over the years, one incarnation is "the narcissistic dreamer clutching at the moon, which could symbolize many things, from spiritual perfection to death." Perhaps my interpretation is completely off base and instead the moral takeaway of Rabbit's Moon is not a solemn dirge to make note of all life's disappointments but a celebratory melody of a character awakening to spiritual perfection by casting away previous distractions. Take a gander at Rabbit's Moon. Mull it over. What do you think Kenneth Anger is trying to say? Is your interpretation as bleak as mine?
Friday, February 14, 2014
The Podcast's the Thing Wherein I'll Catch a Laugh ... (Part 4)
My last few blog posts have been about my year or so long adventure in the world of comedic podcasts. I started by discussing The Thrilling Adventure Hour in the first part and ended the most recent post with the discovery of and delight in The Dead Authors Podcast. As I mentioned in the first post in this blog series, The Thrilling Adventure Hour podcast has been including a number of behind-the-scenes interviews in which they discuss things like the writing process and the history of the show. With the latter, the cast and creative team frequently mentioned Paul F. Tompkins's show/podcast as a means of introducing them to various other actors or even their current location for the live show. At first, I thought they were referencing Paul F. Tompkins's work with The Dead Authors Podcast but over time I realized they were not. I searched for other podcasts that Tompkins worked on and thus stumbled upon The Pod F. Tompkast.
The Pod F. Tompkast is one of the stranger things I've heard "on the air," so to speak, with the show being introduced as full of "comedy-type ramblings and bitlets." The podcast features comedian Paul F. Tompkins narrating in a stream-of-consciousness way and composer/musician Eban Schletter providing musical accompaniment to these ramblings. In addition to this odd introduction (which, trust me, could get really odd sometimes as Tompkins would go down the proverbial rabbit hole with his thoughts ending up in unlikely places), the show offers a handful of other segments. These consist of:
One thing that I very much appreciate about Tompkins's humor is that he shows how it's possible to be incredibly funny without being crass in terms of foul language or wise-cracks that make people - either specific persons (i.e., the ever popular "my wife" jokes) or a whole class of people (i.e., an ethnic group, a misunderstood subculture, etc.) - the butt of the joke. But what do you expect from the man known as "Comedy's One True Gentleman?" Tompkins's brand of comedy can also lend itself toward the "nerd humor" of comedians like Demetri Martin. (Actually, I'm surprised that more people don't make a connection between Martin and Tompkins given that they both show a proclivity toward stream-of-consciousness comedy). This kind of humor might not be for everyone but if you're tired of comedians who get too many of their kicks from potty humor (literally and metaphorically) and want something slightly more highbrow, Paul F. Tompkins in general and this podcast in particular are a good route to go. Tompkins is also obsessed with grammar and will often stop to correct his own speech if he thinks it is not polished enough the first time around. Hearing comedians laugh at themselves is one of the things I often find the funniest in any comedy show, and so Tompkins laughing at his own inability to get a random thought out in the correct grammatical order will make me laugh as well.
The stream-of-consciousness humor with no apparent purpose/endgame in sight takes a little bit of getting used to (if I recall correctly, Tompkins himself refers to the humor on this podcast as an acquired taste); at first, I wasn't sure if I would stick with this podcast past a trial episode or two. By the time I got through all the available episodes, I was absolutely hooked and found myself missing the podcast in the months I've had without any new episodes. Sadly, despite reassurances in the last episode that Tompkins was hard at work preparing future episodes, there hasn't been an update since nearly a year ago. I'm not sure that we'll see more of The Pod F. Tompkast in the future, which is a sad end for a podcast once rated as the top comedy podcast out there by Rolling Stone.
The Pod F. Tompkast is one of the stranger things I've heard "on the air," so to speak, with the show being introduced as full of "comedy-type ramblings and bitlets." The podcast features comedian Paul F. Tompkins narrating in a stream-of-consciousness way and composer/musician Eban Schletter providing musical accompaniment to these ramblings. In addition to this odd introduction (which, trust me, could get really odd sometimes as Tompkins would go down the proverbial rabbit hole with his thoughts ending up in unlikely places), the show offers a handful of other segments. These consist of:
- "A Phone Call with Jen Kirkman." During this part of the show, Tompkins literally calls his friend and fellow comedian Jen Kirkman and the two talk about random things, often Kirkman's phobias or other humorous real-life ancedotes she might have to share. Despite the concept sounding rather blasé, Kirkman's funny-because-they're-true/sad-because-they're-true stories make this segment very engaging.
- 'Trapped in the Internet' interviews. [This segment doesn't have an actual name as far as I know of, and this is the best descriptive name I could think up.] Presumably due to scheduling conflicts, the phone calls with Jen Kirkman stopped at some point; the comedic conceit is that Kirkman got "trapped in the Internet" and neither she nor Tompkins know how to get her out. As a result, Kirkman (or sometimes the "sleepy voice of the Internet," one of the side characters on the show) sends another person to help with the situation. Of course, this person also never knows how to get Kirkman out but instead ends up sitting down for another strange conversation with Tompkins. Guests on this segment have included Paget Brewster, Justin Kirk, and Dave (Gruber) Allen, amongst others. This segment seems to be more interesting if you know of the guest/have an interest in said guest; however, most of the guests are pretty funny and/or Tompkins will come up with some silly/strange scenario to make this part as compelling as the rest.
- "The Great Undiscovered Project." This was an ongoing story that Tompkins wrote and for which he did all the impressions. The absurd story involved a plan for a movie written/produced by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Ice-T to be directed by Garry Marshall. The movie would star Ice-T as well as John Lithgow, John C. Reilly, and the artist Mr. Brainwash. Cake Boss also played an essential role in this bit as he brought together several of the creative types and had the gift of seeing the future. Other notable Hollywood types made an occasional appearance over the course of this story. The vast majority of "The Great Undiscovered Project" was revealed through recordings of phone conversations held between various pairings of the main characters. This segment was a tad too ridiculous at times, but I always enjoyed being stunned by how well Tompkins did the many different impersonations as well as the silly factoids he invented for these real-life people (i.e., John C. Reilly's addiction to the cake decorations known as dragees or John Lithgow's favorite actor being the presidential assassin John Wilkes Booth).
- "The Paul F. Tompkins Show." At this point, Tompkins features a clip from his live comedy show. These are often short sketches including a guest star such as Matt Gourley or Jon Hamm; some of these sketches are far more out there than others, but most will have you at least chuckling a little. One of my favorite parts from here is when Tompkins does "Advice to the Probably Dead," a bit in which he goes through letters written in to "Dear Abby" columnists (and the like) from the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. Because some of the questions (submitted most often by women in eras different from our own in many respects) are so flat-out ridiculous, Tompkins can reply with helpful advice while still being hysterically funny. Another great bit is Tompkins's "Google Voice Transcripts." Tompkins would send well-known speeches from political history or classic cinema to his Google voicemail and then read aloud what the auto-detect translator would spit out as a transcript. The resulting gibberish is absolutely ridiculous and therefore very amusing.
- "Paul F. Tompkins Comes to Your Town." Basically at this point, there's just a listing given of Tompkins' travel schedule for comedy shows, but this is usually done in some big theatrical way with a different theme for that particular podcast. Any other plugs for Tompkins' and/or Schletter's work appear here.
One thing that I very much appreciate about Tompkins's humor is that he shows how it's possible to be incredibly funny without being crass in terms of foul language or wise-cracks that make people - either specific persons (i.e., the ever popular "my wife" jokes) or a whole class of people (i.e., an ethnic group, a misunderstood subculture, etc.) - the butt of the joke. But what do you expect from the man known as "Comedy's One True Gentleman?" Tompkins's brand of comedy can also lend itself toward the "nerd humor" of comedians like Demetri Martin. (Actually, I'm surprised that more people don't make a connection between Martin and Tompkins given that they both show a proclivity toward stream-of-consciousness comedy). This kind of humor might not be for everyone but if you're tired of comedians who get too many of their kicks from potty humor (literally and metaphorically) and want something slightly more highbrow, Paul F. Tompkins in general and this podcast in particular are a good route to go. Tompkins is also obsessed with grammar and will often stop to correct his own speech if he thinks it is not polished enough the first time around. Hearing comedians laugh at themselves is one of the things I often find the funniest in any comedy show, and so Tompkins laughing at his own inability to get a random thought out in the correct grammatical order will make me laugh as well.
The stream-of-consciousness humor with no apparent purpose/endgame in sight takes a little bit of getting used to (if I recall correctly, Tompkins himself refers to the humor on this podcast as an acquired taste); at first, I wasn't sure if I would stick with this podcast past a trial episode or two. By the time I got through all the available episodes, I was absolutely hooked and found myself missing the podcast in the months I've had without any new episodes. Sadly, despite reassurances in the last episode that Tompkins was hard at work preparing future episodes, there hasn't been an update since nearly a year ago. I'm not sure that we'll see more of The Pod F. Tompkast in the future, which is a sad end for a podcast once rated as the top comedy podcast out there by Rolling Stone.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
The Podcast's the Thing Wherein I'll Catch a Laugh ... (Part 3)
At the end of my last post, I mentioned that The Thrilling Adventure Hour podcast had a number of cross-overs in its line-up, which I'm going to discuss here in part three of this blog entry.
War of Two Worlds
This was an ongoing collaboration between The Thrilling Adventure Hour and the podcast SuperEgo. Honestly, this was absolutely without exception, the least interesting thing put out by The Thrilling Adventure Hour. The different styles of the two podcasts means that these episodes were both written and improvised, making for a rather interesting show - in theory. In practice, they were sort of weird and incoherent, with thin plot lines and poorly drawn one-dimensional characters. I was glad when this series ended, and a bit disappointed to hear in a recent Q&A episode that members of The Thrilling Adventure Hour ensemble hope to do more collaborations with SuperEgo in the future. I for one am not looking forward to that.
This American Wife
This American Wife is a podcast that spoofs on the public radio show This American Life (although, at least regarding the cross-overs done with The Thrilling Adventure Hour, the NPR show it most seemed to parody was Fresh Air). The cross-overs done here consisted of interviews with various actors - speaking in character - from The Thrilling Adventure Hour segments. These were pretty funny, and I enjoyed hearing some more about the characters' back stories as well as their interactions with each other. If these two podcasts chose to collaborate again, I certainly wouldn't mind that. However, there was nothing so very compelling about the concept of This American Wife that made me want to go check out that series on its own.
The Dead Authors Podcast
This was less of a cross-over than it was a plug for another project from one the show's actors, that project being the ongoing improv comedy podcast known as The Dead Authors Podcast. The episode of The Dead Authors Podcast featured in The Thrilling Adventure Hour line-up was the December 2012 feature with the authors of the Gospels, which happened to be one replete with actors and guest stars from The Thrilling Adventure Hour: Paul F. Topkins, Craig Cackowski, Mark Gagliardi, Matt Gourley, and Hal Lublin. This episode was so hilarious that I ended up going back and listening to all the past issues of The Dead Authors Podcast -- and subscribing to the podcast for all future episodes.
But let me step back a moment here and explain the basic premise of the show. Like The Thrilling Adventure Hour, the podcast is a recording of a live show but unlike The Thrilling Adventure Hour, The Dead Authors Podcast is not a staged reading but a work of improvisational comedy. Paul F. Tompkins is the host of the show, and he plays it in the role of H.G. Wells, the British author known as one of the fathers of science fiction. The show's conceit is that Wells owns and operates a functional time machine, which Wells uses to go back in time and transport now-dead authors into the present where he interviews them regarding their lives and works. The author changes from month to month and is always played by a different comedian who comes up with answers to Tompkins's/Wells's interview questions on the spot. The result is always something hilarious, although there are some episodes that are even better than others. For instance, John Hodgman as Ayn Rand was one of the most hysterically funny things I've ever heard, Kristen Schaal as Tennessee Williams was also laugh-out-loud funny, and Brian Stack as Brendan Behan had me in stitches. James Adomian as Walt Whitman responding to every question in a Leaves of Grass-style rambling poem (remember, these were all invented on the spot) was another recent highlight.
So to recap, The Dead Authors Podcast is an absolutely hilarious romp through literature in a improvisational sketch matter, although of course with some historical background done in advance by the participants and Paul F. Tompkins as the interviewer. Of course, both the "author"/comedian du jour and Tompkins roll with the punches and come up with new answers/questions as that night's show progresses and goes in different directions than one might expect. I definitely recommend this podcast for fans of literary humor as it does not fail. But even if you haven't read all the authors featured on this podcast, it will still be funny and you won't be lost. In fact, with Tompkins providing some details of the author's life via his interview questions, you might even learn something in between your peals of laughter!
Speaking of Paul F. Tompkins, The Dead Authors Podcast was not the only trip down the rabbit hole I took as I delved into the world of comedic podcasts over the past year or so. But that's a story saved for the fourth and final part of this blog post ...
War of Two Worlds
This was an ongoing collaboration between The Thrilling Adventure Hour and the podcast SuperEgo. Honestly, this was absolutely without exception, the least interesting thing put out by The Thrilling Adventure Hour. The different styles of the two podcasts means that these episodes were both written and improvised, making for a rather interesting show - in theory. In practice, they were sort of weird and incoherent, with thin plot lines and poorly drawn one-dimensional characters. I was glad when this series ended, and a bit disappointed to hear in a recent Q&A episode that members of The Thrilling Adventure Hour ensemble hope to do more collaborations with SuperEgo in the future. I for one am not looking forward to that.
This American Wife
This American Wife is a podcast that spoofs on the public radio show This American Life (although, at least regarding the cross-overs done with The Thrilling Adventure Hour, the NPR show it most seemed to parody was Fresh Air). The cross-overs done here consisted of interviews with various actors - speaking in character - from The Thrilling Adventure Hour segments. These were pretty funny, and I enjoyed hearing some more about the characters' back stories as well as their interactions with each other. If these two podcasts chose to collaborate again, I certainly wouldn't mind that. However, there was nothing so very compelling about the concept of This American Wife that made me want to go check out that series on its own.
The Dead Authors Podcast
This was less of a cross-over than it was a plug for another project from one the show's actors, that project being the ongoing improv comedy podcast known as The Dead Authors Podcast. The episode of The Dead Authors Podcast featured in The Thrilling Adventure Hour line-up was the December 2012 feature with the authors of the Gospels, which happened to be one replete with actors and guest stars from The Thrilling Adventure Hour: Paul F. Topkins, Craig Cackowski, Mark Gagliardi, Matt Gourley, and Hal Lublin. This episode was so hilarious that I ended up going back and listening to all the past issues of The Dead Authors Podcast -- and subscribing to the podcast for all future episodes.
But let me step back a moment here and explain the basic premise of the show. Like The Thrilling Adventure Hour, the podcast is a recording of a live show but unlike The Thrilling Adventure Hour, The Dead Authors Podcast is not a staged reading but a work of improvisational comedy. Paul F. Tompkins is the host of the show, and he plays it in the role of H.G. Wells, the British author known as one of the fathers of science fiction. The show's conceit is that Wells owns and operates a functional time machine, which Wells uses to go back in time and transport now-dead authors into the present where he interviews them regarding their lives and works. The author changes from month to month and is always played by a different comedian who comes up with answers to Tompkins's/Wells's interview questions on the spot. The result is always something hilarious, although there are some episodes that are even better than others. For instance, John Hodgman as Ayn Rand was one of the most hysterically funny things I've ever heard, Kristen Schaal as Tennessee Williams was also laugh-out-loud funny, and Brian Stack as Brendan Behan had me in stitches. James Adomian as Walt Whitman responding to every question in a Leaves of Grass-style rambling poem (remember, these were all invented on the spot) was another recent highlight.
So to recap, The Dead Authors Podcast is an absolutely hilarious romp through literature in a improvisational sketch matter, although of course with some historical background done in advance by the participants and Paul F. Tompkins as the interviewer. Of course, both the "author"/comedian du jour and Tompkins roll with the punches and come up with new answers/questions as that night's show progresses and goes in different directions than one might expect. I definitely recommend this podcast for fans of literary humor as it does not fail. But even if you haven't read all the authors featured on this podcast, it will still be funny and you won't be lost. In fact, with Tompkins providing some details of the author's life via his interview questions, you might even learn something in between your peals of laughter!
Speaking of Paul F. Tompkins, The Dead Authors Podcast was not the only trip down the rabbit hole I took as I delved into the world of comedic podcasts over the past year or so. But that's a story saved for the fourth and final part of this blog post ...
Monday, February 10, 2014
The Podcast's the Thing Wherein I'll Catch a Laugh ... (Part 2)
In my last post, I wrote about a podcast that I have been enjoying over the past year, which is recorded from a live monthly show called The Thrilling Adventure. Short recap: The Thrilling Adventure Hour is a humorous staged reading done in the style of old-time radio programs, complete with music and campy sound effects. The show always begins with the segment "Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" and ends with the segment "Beyond Belief." The middle show varies from month to month, although it is usually one of the segments listed below.
The Adventures of Captain Laserbeam
After "Beyond Belief," this is my favorite segment from The Thrilling Adventure Hour. "Captain Laserbeam" is a goofy superhero story featuring a campy Superman/Ironman-type protagonist who is helped out by a bunch of teenagers known as the Adventurekateers. As with "Beyond Belief," the stories of "Captain Laserbeam" as not serialized in the way that "Sparks Nevada" is; nonetheless, there is some development over the years in terms of character arcs, and I think it would be wiser to start listening to this segment from the beginning rather than trying to catch on now. Captain Laserbeam gets himself in all kinds of jams involving the various villains that plague his hometown of Apex City. He ranks this villains in order and like any good superhero, his villains are all ridiculously named and themed characters of their own. My particular favorite has been the Die-brarian (along with his henchman, Papercut), as his presence is a golden opportunity for a ton of bookish-based jokes. (I should have mentioned this in my earlier post: The Thrilling Adventure Hour isn't funny just because of situational comedies or witty repartee; it's also rife with tons of intellectual/nerdy jokes.)
Like with most of the other segments on The Thrilling Adventure Hour, part of the comedy comes from establishing regular catchphrases, but then "Captain Laserbeam" takes it a step further by eventually messing with the now-familiar phrases. Unlike most of the other segments, there isn't really a duo central to "Captain Laserbeam." Captain Laserbeam is more or less on his own, with an occasional bit of information supplied by the ever-rotating cast of Adventurekateers. That means there isn't the same tension of two opposites like Sparks and Croach in "Sparks Nevada" or a symbiotic working relationship like that of Frank and Sadie in "Beyond Belief." Still, Captain Laserbeam's short adventures usually do just fine with him more or less on his own.
Over time, however, the writers ingeniously introduced a new character as a great foil to Captain Laserbeam. The ever upbeat and optimistic Captain Laserbeam found an unlikely alliance with the darker, more pessimistic vigilante known as Phillip Fathom, the deep-sea detective. In one of the behind-the-scenes interviews released on the podcast, Hal Lublin (the voice behind Phillip Fathom, as well as a variety of other characters on The Thrilling Adventure Hour) discussed his process in coming up with an appropriate sound for the deep-sea detective: Lublin noted that the writers were clearly riffing on The Batman character with Phillip Fathom, causing Lublin to contemplate which Batman portrayer he should seek to imitate. Would it be Adam West? Michael Keaton? George Clooney? No, Lublin decided Phillip Fathom should be voiced like Christian Bale as Batman. Nothing is more hilarious than hearing Phillip Fathom on stage shouting something like "My parents were murdered at sea!" in that deep, gravelly voice. In fact, one of my absolute favorite episodes of "Captain Laserbeam" is the one in which Fathom is introduced; hearing him shout "I'M NOT A GOSSIP!" cracks me up every time I hear it. I would love to hear more from Phillip Fathom in the further (and I suspect we will), and I think a spin-off of "Captain Laserbeam" with Phillip Fathom's solo adventures would be a great addition to the current rotation of segments.
One of the compelling things about Captain Laserbeam is that his mythology is not completely fixed yet, and the audience is slowly learning things about his alter ego and history, including his relationship with fellow superhero Dream Girl. Between this and the possibly of exploring Phillip Fathom's background further, there is plenty of fodder for new "Captain Laserbeam" episodes in the future.
Tales from the Black Lagoon
"Tales from the Black Lagoon" is the one anomaly in The Thrilling Adventure Hour cannon. Unlike all the other segments, it is not read live in front of an audience and it's got a much darker vibe. It's certainly still funny, but in a far less obvious way than the other segments. "Tales from the Black Lagoon" plays like a 1940s film noir with the characters all pulled from the Golden Age studio lot, although of course all with some new twist for comedic effect. We've got a cannibalistic Cary Grant, a dope-dealing Shirley Temple, an opium-using Jimmy Stewart, and so forth. This segment challenges the vocal actors in a different way than all the others - it's not just a matter of creating a new tone or accent, it's taking on a well-known personality and voice. The smooth jazzy music, the narrative structure, and the storylines all fit the noir mystery tropes; in sum, this is a great comedy version of old detective stories and very fitting with the idea of an old-time radio program. Unfortunately, this segment hasn't been on the podcast in recent years; the muted comedy may have been less popular than some of the other segments, although the likelier explanation is that the technical aspects of this one made it more difficult to execute.
Jefferson Reid, Ace American / Amelia Earhart, Fearless Flyer
These two segments are similar enough for me to feel okay with wrapping them up together. Like "Tales from the Black Lagoon," the "Jefferson Reid" segment hasn't been on in several years. In this case, it's likely because the usual actor behind Jefferson Reid was Nathan Fillion who has since been tapped to play Cactoid Jim when he's available for a show. "Jefferson Reid" and "Amelia Earhart" are both set in an alternate reality World War II, with Jefferson Reid acting as a sort of super solider and Amelia Earhart a time-traveling pilot (who did not actually disappear without trace over the Bermuda Triangle, rather hiding herself so that she could take part in clandestine operations to stop Nazi victories before they happen). These two segments are my least favorite on the show; the stories seem to be the same thing over and over again, and there's only so many times I can hear Jefferson Reid, Amelia Earhart, or one of their compatriots talk about "dirty Krauts" before I get tired of it. Basically, unlike the other segments in The Thrilling Adventure Hour, these two programs seem unoriginal. Also, despite having two female leads, "Amelia Earhart" tends to annoy me by suggesting that the two women are lesbians. Because of course two women trying to be patriotic during a world war have to be homosexual. Otherwise, they'd be home tending to their Victory gardens and adjusting their cake recipes to account for sugar rations.
The Cross-Time Adventures of Colonel Tick-Tock / The Algonquin Four
"Colonel Tick-Tock" is one of the weaker segments on the show, although it's definitely grown on me over numerous episodes. Colonel Tick-Tock is a member of the Queen's Royal Chrono Patrol, meaning that his job is to police the timeline and time travel at a moment's notice if something goes wrong (i.e., a dinosaur shows up in the modern day). "Colonel Tick-Tock" is notable for its clever use of language/wordplay around time and time travel, and sometimes for coming up with some rather ridiculous historical mash-ups. For some reason, Colonel Tick-Tock is rather effeminate and hinted at being gay, even though he is married to a woman. Another odd thing is that the Queen of England is voiced by a male actor, although that ends up being rather funny (think Jon Stewart's impression of Queen Elizabeth II).
"Colonel Tick-Tock" has earned its own spin-off in "The Algonquin Four," although as I far as I can recall, they have had only one or perhaps two solo episodes. The Algonquin Four consists of a quadruple of historical figures who have been given superhero qualities via a cosmic event: Harry Houdini has an elastic body, Woodrow Wilson can make things invisible, Robert Benchley "has dominion over flames," and Dorothy Parker is more or less the female version of The Incredible Hulk (She literally shouts "Dorothy Parker smash!!" at a moment's notice. In the behind-the-scenes interviews, Annie Savage who voices Dorothy Parker notes that the writers' helpful description of how to play this character was simply "dumber.") The four characters find themselves having to battle various enemies at times. "The Algonquin Four" is not one of my favorite segments either, but it's entertaining enough as an occasional episode.
Down in Moonshine Holler
"Moonshine Holler" is the "fairy tale" of The Thrilling Adventure Hour, but also is the most realistic (if you can actually call it that) out of the selection of segments. "Moonshine Holler" is about a rich man who met a woman at a party and found out she was the "Hobo Princess" when she left behind a fingerless glove. He immediately gave us his riches, changed his name to "Banjo Bindlestuff," and began traipsing the Depression Era-landscape in search of the "hobo paradise" named Moonshine Holler, where he hopes to be reunited with the woman he loves. On the road, Banjo finds a mentor in fellow homeless wanderer Gummy, and they navigate the world of hard luck together.
As with "Sparks Nevada" and "Beyond Belief," we have a comedy that works well because of the two leads and how they play off of each other. One of my favorite running jokes is when Gummy tells Banjo to do something like say hello or thank you, noting "It's the hobo way!!" and Banjo sighs, pointing out that it's actually "the regular people way also." Gummy (who is unbelievably voiced by Hal Lublin, the force behind Phillip Fathom) is a fan of shivving people and eating pie, although not necessarily in that order. In fact, Gummy's favorite exclamation is "Apple pie!," which somehow never fails to make me laugh.
"Moonshine Holler" also works by having a number of situational comedies arise. Most episodes follow a standard format in which Banjo and Gummy come across someone(s) who Banjo hopes either is the Hobo Princess or has information about her. Instead, this person(s) has a problem of their own, which Banjo could solve but only if he reveals his true identity as a millionaire. In the nick of time and with Gummy's encouragement, Banjo thinks up a solution that will solve the current crisis without blowing his cover. Despite being rather formulaic like this, I always find the story in "Moonshine Holler" to be hilarious. The combination of the new and interesting characters, the absurdity of yet another situation, and the funny jokes always leave each episode feeling fresh. This segment feels the most like it could have an end date though, as there is clearly a conclusion coming at some point when Banjo at last finds the Hobo Princess. Still, it's been some time since there was a "Moonshine Holler" episode released on the podcast, so I feel like there's potential for plenty more adventures in store for Banjo and Gummy.
I do have to note on "Moonshine Holler" that this is the segment that most walks the dangerous border between comedy and insult. Personally, I find it very funny because it's all meant in good, ridiculous humor and obviously no one out there currently (or during the Depression) is giving up millions to chase after a Cinderella-like character to a place that may or may not exist. Still, homelessness is a real problem and using these old stereotypes of jumping trains, making stone soup, and warming oneself by trashcan fires is not a flattering (or accurate) portrayal. I try to take it in stride and just go with the humorous aspects, but I could definitely see how some might find this offensive. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea.
Jumbo the Elephant Saves ... [insert appropriate holiday here]
"Jumbo" is a rather sporadic segment that only appears around certain holidays. In fact, the writers have noted that it's unlikely we'll hear from Jumbo again, although there are still other holidays that could use a little elephantine cheer. Jumbo is a jazz band-playing elephant of Cuban descent living in Miami. Yes, he's an elephant from Cuba, because that makes geographical sense. However, it does mean that he pronounces his name as "Yumbo," which absolutely kills me for no good reason. It's just hilarious every time I hear it. Jumbo's main function is to tell holiday stories and talk about how he manages, against all odds, to make holidays run smoothly. There isn't too much to say about Jumbo, being as he's only been featured on two episodes, but they were very funny episodes, and I hope that he might appear for another holiday special in the future.
That covers all of the recurring segments featured on The Thrilling Adventure Hour, minus a couple of cross-over podcast episodes, which I will cover in part 3 of this (never-ending?) blog post. Stay tuned, solid citizens*!
* Don't get that reference? I suggest you crack in to those "Captain Laserbeam" episodes right away! :)
The Adventures of Captain Laserbeam
After "Beyond Belief," this is my favorite segment from The Thrilling Adventure Hour. "Captain Laserbeam" is a goofy superhero story featuring a campy Superman/Ironman-type protagonist who is helped out by a bunch of teenagers known as the Adventurekateers. As with "Beyond Belief," the stories of "Captain Laserbeam" as not serialized in the way that "Sparks Nevada" is; nonetheless, there is some development over the years in terms of character arcs, and I think it would be wiser to start listening to this segment from the beginning rather than trying to catch on now. Captain Laserbeam gets himself in all kinds of jams involving the various villains that plague his hometown of Apex City. He ranks this villains in order and like any good superhero, his villains are all ridiculously named and themed characters of their own. My particular favorite has been the Die-brarian (along with his henchman, Papercut), as his presence is a golden opportunity for a ton of bookish-based jokes. (I should have mentioned this in my earlier post: The Thrilling Adventure Hour isn't funny just because of situational comedies or witty repartee; it's also rife with tons of intellectual/nerdy jokes.)
Like with most of the other segments on The Thrilling Adventure Hour, part of the comedy comes from establishing regular catchphrases, but then "Captain Laserbeam" takes it a step further by eventually messing with the now-familiar phrases. Unlike most of the other segments, there isn't really a duo central to "Captain Laserbeam." Captain Laserbeam is more or less on his own, with an occasional bit of information supplied by the ever-rotating cast of Adventurekateers. That means there isn't the same tension of two opposites like Sparks and Croach in "Sparks Nevada" or a symbiotic working relationship like that of Frank and Sadie in "Beyond Belief." Still, Captain Laserbeam's short adventures usually do just fine with him more or less on his own.
Over time, however, the writers ingeniously introduced a new character as a great foil to Captain Laserbeam. The ever upbeat and optimistic Captain Laserbeam found an unlikely alliance with the darker, more pessimistic vigilante known as Phillip Fathom, the deep-sea detective. In one of the behind-the-scenes interviews released on the podcast, Hal Lublin (the voice behind Phillip Fathom, as well as a variety of other characters on The Thrilling Adventure Hour) discussed his process in coming up with an appropriate sound for the deep-sea detective: Lublin noted that the writers were clearly riffing on The Batman character with Phillip Fathom, causing Lublin to contemplate which Batman portrayer he should seek to imitate. Would it be Adam West? Michael Keaton? George Clooney? No, Lublin decided Phillip Fathom should be voiced like Christian Bale as Batman. Nothing is more hilarious than hearing Phillip Fathom on stage shouting something like "My parents were murdered at sea!" in that deep, gravelly voice. In fact, one of my absolute favorite episodes of "Captain Laserbeam" is the one in which Fathom is introduced; hearing him shout "I'M NOT A GOSSIP!" cracks me up every time I hear it. I would love to hear more from Phillip Fathom in the further (and I suspect we will), and I think a spin-off of "Captain Laserbeam" with Phillip Fathom's solo adventures would be a great addition to the current rotation of segments.
One of the compelling things about Captain Laserbeam is that his mythology is not completely fixed yet, and the audience is slowly learning things about his alter ego and history, including his relationship with fellow superhero Dream Girl. Between this and the possibly of exploring Phillip Fathom's background further, there is plenty of fodder for new "Captain Laserbeam" episodes in the future.
Tales from the Black Lagoon
"Tales from the Black Lagoon" is the one anomaly in The Thrilling Adventure Hour cannon. Unlike all the other segments, it is not read live in front of an audience and it's got a much darker vibe. It's certainly still funny, but in a far less obvious way than the other segments. "Tales from the Black Lagoon" plays like a 1940s film noir with the characters all pulled from the Golden Age studio lot, although of course all with some new twist for comedic effect. We've got a cannibalistic Cary Grant, a dope-dealing Shirley Temple, an opium-using Jimmy Stewart, and so forth. This segment challenges the vocal actors in a different way than all the others - it's not just a matter of creating a new tone or accent, it's taking on a well-known personality and voice. The smooth jazzy music, the narrative structure, and the storylines all fit the noir mystery tropes; in sum, this is a great comedy version of old detective stories and very fitting with the idea of an old-time radio program. Unfortunately, this segment hasn't been on the podcast in recent years; the muted comedy may have been less popular than some of the other segments, although the likelier explanation is that the technical aspects of this one made it more difficult to execute.
Jefferson Reid, Ace American / Amelia Earhart, Fearless Flyer
These two segments are similar enough for me to feel okay with wrapping them up together. Like "Tales from the Black Lagoon," the "Jefferson Reid" segment hasn't been on in several years. In this case, it's likely because the usual actor behind Jefferson Reid was Nathan Fillion who has since been tapped to play Cactoid Jim when he's available for a show. "Jefferson Reid" and "Amelia Earhart" are both set in an alternate reality World War II, with Jefferson Reid acting as a sort of super solider and Amelia Earhart a time-traveling pilot (who did not actually disappear without trace over the Bermuda Triangle, rather hiding herself so that she could take part in clandestine operations to stop Nazi victories before they happen). These two segments are my least favorite on the show; the stories seem to be the same thing over and over again, and there's only so many times I can hear Jefferson Reid, Amelia Earhart, or one of their compatriots talk about "dirty Krauts" before I get tired of it. Basically, unlike the other segments in The Thrilling Adventure Hour, these two programs seem unoriginal. Also, despite having two female leads, "Amelia Earhart" tends to annoy me by suggesting that the two women are lesbians. Because of course two women trying to be patriotic during a world war have to be homosexual. Otherwise, they'd be home tending to their Victory gardens and adjusting their cake recipes to account for sugar rations.
The Cross-Time Adventures of Colonel Tick-Tock / The Algonquin Four
"Colonel Tick-Tock" is one of the weaker segments on the show, although it's definitely grown on me over numerous episodes. Colonel Tick-Tock is a member of the Queen's Royal Chrono Patrol, meaning that his job is to police the timeline and time travel at a moment's notice if something goes wrong (i.e., a dinosaur shows up in the modern day). "Colonel Tick-Tock" is notable for its clever use of language/wordplay around time and time travel, and sometimes for coming up with some rather ridiculous historical mash-ups. For some reason, Colonel Tick-Tock is rather effeminate and hinted at being gay, even though he is married to a woman. Another odd thing is that the Queen of England is voiced by a male actor, although that ends up being rather funny (think Jon Stewart's impression of Queen Elizabeth II).
"Colonel Tick-Tock" has earned its own spin-off in "The Algonquin Four," although as I far as I can recall, they have had only one or perhaps two solo episodes. The Algonquin Four consists of a quadruple of historical figures who have been given superhero qualities via a cosmic event: Harry Houdini has an elastic body, Woodrow Wilson can make things invisible, Robert Benchley "has dominion over flames," and Dorothy Parker is more or less the female version of The Incredible Hulk (She literally shouts "Dorothy Parker smash!!" at a moment's notice. In the behind-the-scenes interviews, Annie Savage who voices Dorothy Parker notes that the writers' helpful description of how to play this character was simply "dumber.") The four characters find themselves having to battle various enemies at times. "The Algonquin Four" is not one of my favorite segments either, but it's entertaining enough as an occasional episode.
Down in Moonshine Holler
"Moonshine Holler" is the "fairy tale" of The Thrilling Adventure Hour, but also is the most realistic (if you can actually call it that) out of the selection of segments. "Moonshine Holler" is about a rich man who met a woman at a party and found out she was the "Hobo Princess" when she left behind a fingerless glove. He immediately gave us his riches, changed his name to "Banjo Bindlestuff," and began traipsing the Depression Era-landscape in search of the "hobo paradise" named Moonshine Holler, where he hopes to be reunited with the woman he loves. On the road, Banjo finds a mentor in fellow homeless wanderer Gummy, and they navigate the world of hard luck together.
As with "Sparks Nevada" and "Beyond Belief," we have a comedy that works well because of the two leads and how they play off of each other. One of my favorite running jokes is when Gummy tells Banjo to do something like say hello or thank you, noting "It's the hobo way!!" and Banjo sighs, pointing out that it's actually "the regular people way also." Gummy (who is unbelievably voiced by Hal Lublin, the force behind Phillip Fathom) is a fan of shivving people and eating pie, although not necessarily in that order. In fact, Gummy's favorite exclamation is "Apple pie!," which somehow never fails to make me laugh.
"Moonshine Holler" also works by having a number of situational comedies arise. Most episodes follow a standard format in which Banjo and Gummy come across someone(s) who Banjo hopes either is the Hobo Princess or has information about her. Instead, this person(s) has a problem of their own, which Banjo could solve but only if he reveals his true identity as a millionaire. In the nick of time and with Gummy's encouragement, Banjo thinks up a solution that will solve the current crisis without blowing his cover. Despite being rather formulaic like this, I always find the story in "Moonshine Holler" to be hilarious. The combination of the new and interesting characters, the absurdity of yet another situation, and the funny jokes always leave each episode feeling fresh. This segment feels the most like it could have an end date though, as there is clearly a conclusion coming at some point when Banjo at last finds the Hobo Princess. Still, it's been some time since there was a "Moonshine Holler" episode released on the podcast, so I feel like there's potential for plenty more adventures in store for Banjo and Gummy.
I do have to note on "Moonshine Holler" that this is the segment that most walks the dangerous border between comedy and insult. Personally, I find it very funny because it's all meant in good, ridiculous humor and obviously no one out there currently (or during the Depression) is giving up millions to chase after a Cinderella-like character to a place that may or may not exist. Still, homelessness is a real problem and using these old stereotypes of jumping trains, making stone soup, and warming oneself by trashcan fires is not a flattering (or accurate) portrayal. I try to take it in stride and just go with the humorous aspects, but I could definitely see how some might find this offensive. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea.
Jumbo the Elephant Saves ... [insert appropriate holiday here]
"Jumbo" is a rather sporadic segment that only appears around certain holidays. In fact, the writers have noted that it's unlikely we'll hear from Jumbo again, although there are still other holidays that could use a little elephantine cheer. Jumbo is a jazz band-playing elephant of Cuban descent living in Miami. Yes, he's an elephant from Cuba, because that makes geographical sense. However, it does mean that he pronounces his name as "Yumbo," which absolutely kills me for no good reason. It's just hilarious every time I hear it. Jumbo's main function is to tell holiday stories and talk about how he manages, against all odds, to make holidays run smoothly. There isn't too much to say about Jumbo, being as he's only been featured on two episodes, but they were very funny episodes, and I hope that he might appear for another holiday special in the future.
That covers all of the recurring segments featured on The Thrilling Adventure Hour, minus a couple of cross-over podcast episodes, which I will cover in part 3 of this (never-ending?) blog post. Stay tuned, solid citizens*!
* Don't get that reference? I suggest you crack in to those "Captain Laserbeam" episodes right away! :)
Sunday, February 9, 2014
The Podcast's the Thing Wherein I'll Catch a Laugh ... (Part 1)
As I've mentioned before, I absolutely love Paget Brewster as an actor. So much so in fact that I follow her account on Twitter because she posts funny and random things and just generally sounds so down to earth. Frequently, she would mention on Twitter a podcast that she participates in, and I wouldn't even bother to click on the link because I had given up on podcasts years earlier. (When I first got an Ipod, I was obsessed with the idea of podcasts and downloaded so many different ones, including a great too many news ones that released an episode every day, that I soon became overwhelmed with the number of unheard episodes I'd have queuing up at any given moment. So then rather than being a reasonable person who weeded out only some of the podcasts I was subscribed to, I simply deleted them all.) Eventually though, repeatedly seeing Brewster make reference to her role in the podcast compelled me to finally check out the premise of this particular podcast. When I found out that the podcast in question was The Thrilling Adventure Hour, a self-declared "new-time podcast in the style of old-time radio," I knew I'd have to check it out. Having spent a great deal of time with my grandparents when I was growing up, I had developed a love for classic movies, old-time crooners, and even Golden Age radio programs. The Thrilling Adventure Hour started as a staged reading out in Los Angeles and was eventually recorded to be shared with a listening audience throughout the country (perhaps even world?).
From that point on, I downloaded all the old episodes of The Thrilling Adventure Hour and would listen to them while doing all kinds of mundane tasks - usually housework like laundry or dishes. It's amazing how much faster and cheerfully these tedious tasks go when you're listening to something that grips your imagination and makes you laugh. The episodes are generally fairly short (about 20-30 minutes on average, with some exceptions) and come out with just the right frequency so that you are neither up to your elbows in backlog nor sitting around waiting impatiently for the next one to arrive. The monthly staged show is roughly one hour (hence the name) with three segments and some interstitial materials including advertisements for made-up products (WorkJuice Brand Coffee and Patriot Cigarettes, with the former eventually becoming an actual product). The podcast breaks each of the three segments down into its own episode, releasing them one at a time. (In the past, it occasionally had separate very brief episodes for the interstitials as well but those have not surfaced in quite some time.) The staged show always opens with the segment "Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" and ends with the program "Beyond Belief." The middle show changes from month to month, although there is a limited universe of available choices at the moment (of course, the writers could keep on inventing new programs, or spin-offs of the other segments, to fill this time slot). Lately, podcast episodes have also included behind-the-scenes interviews with the show's writers, creative team, and actors as well as an ongoing Q&A session with two of the actors.
The show is written monthly by television writers Ben Acker and Ben Blacker (writers of the show Supernatural, amongst other things) with other members of the creative team including a director, composer, and live orchestra. The staged show is performed by a standard cast known as the WorkJuice Players (who all play a set role in one or two segments as well as guest spots on other segments) in addition to a variety of guest stars (some recurring). The Thrilling Adventure Hour attracts incredible talent, many of whom are well-known television actors. As the show has gotten increasingly popular, the guests have become bigger "names" in the business. The Thrilling Adventure Hour has become so popular that it's branched out to other media, including a graphic novel that tells the further stories of the characters introduced in the staged show/podcast. In this blog entry, I'd like to talk a little bit further about the main two segments of the show, "Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" and "Beyond Belief." In a follow-up post, I will explore the other programs as well.
Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars
"Sparks Nevada" is a segment that is basically a Western-themed space opera. As the name implies, it takes place on Mars, where for some reason Earthling Sparks Nevada has been put in charge of all law enforcement. His deputy-of-sorts is a Martian named Croach the Tracker who feels he must re-pay his debt of onus to Nevada (with the onus constantly being added to or subtracted from in a balance that only Croach maintains). Each episode sees Sparks and Croach battling some new enemy of sorts, whether a literal attack by robots or something more metaphysical such as Nevada's depression when the woman he loves chooses someone else over him. "Sparks Nevada" is the most serialized of all the segments on The Thrilling Adventure Hour; therefore, this is the one that is best to start with from the beginning rather than trying to jump in now and hope to catch on to all the character arcs and in-jokes.
One of the funniest things about "Sparks Nevada" is the interaction between Sparks and Croach. Sparks is more of a "go with your guts" kind of guy while Croach tries to rationalize and reason through everything. Both have hilarious speech patterns with Sparks spluttering along and Croach coming across rather stilted. As I mentioned, there are numerous in-jokes, including oft-repeated lines and variations of them - for example, Nevada's famous catchphrase "I'm from ... Earth" and Croach constantly explaining Martian things to Sparks with "which you designate [insert English word here]." But as Marc Evan Jackson, the voice talent behind Sparks Nevada, noted in a recent Q&A session about the show, the characters in this show are more than they seem - and they are certainly growing. Jackson pointed this out particularly in the context of Croach, who can seem rather robotic, especially when the show first began, but who has come to developing a wider range of emotions.
However, the "Sparks Nevada" universe is more than just these two characters. There is a host of interesting recurring characters, including the Barkeep (who doesn't want trouble in his place), the artificial intelligence that operates Barkeep's space saloon (and does a lot of thinking on her own), Felton (an everyday citizen who is like the hypochondriac of trouble: he thinks it's there no matter what), the Red Plains Rider (potential love interest of both Sparks and Croach as well as a gunslinger in her own right), Cactoid Jim (a helpful and handsome vigilante; Sparks is often as jealous of Jim as he is grateful to him), Pemilly Stalwark (winner of the Earth's Moon's punishment soccer tournament, a riff on the very popular series The Hunger Games), Rebecca Rose Rushmore (an author of universal acclaim), not to mention all the outlaws that Nevada comes across as a matter of routine in his professional life. These outlaws and the hijinks that they cause add to the hilarity of the show; for instance, the mere entrance of Los Banditos Mutantes causes a ripple of laughter to ensue. The show is a good mix of hilarious situations caused via Nevada's work and those created by the issues in his social life. One of the funniest - and most touching - episodes of all combines both perfectly, in a musical format to boot.
Another thing that I appreciate about this program is that while Westerns as a genre (and to a lesser extent, science fiction as well) tend to be light on female characters, let alone ones that are more than just "damsels in distress" stereotypes, that is not the case here. "Sparks Nevada" may have more men than women on the show, but the female characters that are present are strong and independent. Red is a feisty character with her wits about her who seems to be faster at taking out the bad guys than Nevada is. Of course, the downside is every once in a while due to the fast pace of the show and the need to always create new tensions, Red can sometimes seem a little wishy-washy with her affections - she loves Nevada, she loves Croach, she loves Nevada, she loves Jim, she loves Nevada, she loves Jim. Sometimes it gets hard to remember from episode to episode where her affections lie. Pemilly Stalwak, as the character inspired by The Hunger Games's tough-as-nails protagonist Katniss Everdeen, is a complicated character who is physically tough and learning to become emotionally strong. Rebecca Rose Rushmore is the most stereotypical relationship-hungry woman, but she also has a steady backbone as well as a successful career of her own.
"Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" is the story that started the whole production and is one of the most popular segments on the show. For that reason, the segment has spawned various spin-offs, including "Cactoid Jim, King of the Martian Frontier" about the further adventures of Cactoid Jim sans Nevada and crew, "Tales of the United Solar System Alliance" about a spaceship crew navigating the same universe and occasionally crossing into a "Sparks Nevada" episode, and most recently a segment featuring the Red Plains Rider in a solo adventure. As the show and the podcast both continue, no doubt we will see (read: hear) more growth in the characters populating the "Sparks Nevada" universe, other ridiculous antics, and perhaps additional spin-offs from the first thrilling adventure of the hour.
Beyond Belief
The Thrilling Adventure Hour always concludes with an episode of "Beyond Belief," which the creators refer to as a supernatural Nick and Nora. This segment's protagonists are the married couple Frank and Sadie Doyle, who'd gladly do nothing more than spend all their time locked up together in their Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment tossing back drink after drink. Sadly for the Doyles (but luckily for us), all manner of supernatural creatures have a knack for finding their way into Frank and Sadie's life. It probably doesn't help that Sadie's best friend is a vampire married to a werewolf and than Frank spent at least some of his orphaned childhood growing up in a church full of exorcists. Still, the Doyles have managed to encountered all types of unpleasant monsters and weird situations even when they don't bother to leave their apartment at all. Evil seeks them out. As the show continues, the "Beyond Belief" monsters have segued from ones we've all heard of such as vampires, genies, and so on to more obscure ones like a possessed gingerbread man, a Pinocchio-inspired boy trying to convince Frank and Sadie that they are his parents, etc. The show is never frightening though (nor is it meant to be) and despite usually being drunk at the time, the Doyles always manage to know exactly what to do in any given situation to eliminate the threat. They do this all while swigging back yet another drink ("clink!" being their catchphrase) and swapping turns on supplying the snappy sarcastic one-liners. The Doyles, especially Frank, also have a habit of lamenting about their desire to be alone with one another rather than actually being worried about the impending threat of whatever latest monster(s) they are facing.
Like with "Sparks Nevada," one of the most compelling things about "Beyond Belief" is the relationship between the two leads. The Doyles' love for each other and complete antipathy for just about everyone else they encounter would be horrible if you met them in real life, but here it's comedy gold. Paul F. Tompkins and Paget Brewster shine in the roles of Frank and Sadie Doyle, and their accents for these two characters are some of the most fun ones on The Thrilling Adventure. Unlike in "Sparks Nevada," these two characters are basically static and you could jump in on any random episode and probably not be missing much. (There are, however, a few episodes that make reference to an earlier one in an important way, such as the recent "Basil's Day" one.) Nevertheless, the characters and their witty repartee (not to mention whatever antics will occur with their latest nemesis) make the show interesting and compelling enough that I actually prefer this one to "Sparks Nevada" (indeed, it's my favorite segment of The Thrilling Adventure Hour, hands down). And while Frank and Sadie don't really change over the life of the show/podcast, that doesn't mean they are always the same from episode to episode. Over time, we learn more about their past lives, their friends, and their few hobbies outside of imbibing alcohol nonstop. Each episode brings a fresh new adventure full of laughs so even without a serialized nature for this segment, I still can't wait for the next one to show up in my queue. "Beyond Belief" is certainly the perfect nightcap to conclude The Thrilling Adventure Hour.
That's all for this post, readers. Stay tuned for part 2, in which I'll discuss the other segments found in The Thrilling Adventure Hour.
From that point on, I downloaded all the old episodes of The Thrilling Adventure Hour and would listen to them while doing all kinds of mundane tasks - usually housework like laundry or dishes. It's amazing how much faster and cheerfully these tedious tasks go when you're listening to something that grips your imagination and makes you laugh. The episodes are generally fairly short (about 20-30 minutes on average, with some exceptions) and come out with just the right frequency so that you are neither up to your elbows in backlog nor sitting around waiting impatiently for the next one to arrive. The monthly staged show is roughly one hour (hence the name) with three segments and some interstitial materials including advertisements for made-up products (WorkJuice Brand Coffee and Patriot Cigarettes, with the former eventually becoming an actual product). The podcast breaks each of the three segments down into its own episode, releasing them one at a time. (In the past, it occasionally had separate very brief episodes for the interstitials as well but those have not surfaced in quite some time.) The staged show always opens with the segment "Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" and ends with the program "Beyond Belief." The middle show changes from month to month, although there is a limited universe of available choices at the moment (of course, the writers could keep on inventing new programs, or spin-offs of the other segments, to fill this time slot). Lately, podcast episodes have also included behind-the-scenes interviews with the show's writers, creative team, and actors as well as an ongoing Q&A session with two of the actors.
The show is written monthly by television writers Ben Acker and Ben Blacker (writers of the show Supernatural, amongst other things) with other members of the creative team including a director, composer, and live orchestra. The staged show is performed by a standard cast known as the WorkJuice Players (who all play a set role in one or two segments as well as guest spots on other segments) in addition to a variety of guest stars (some recurring). The Thrilling Adventure Hour attracts incredible talent, many of whom are well-known television actors. As the show has gotten increasingly popular, the guests have become bigger "names" in the business. The Thrilling Adventure Hour has become so popular that it's branched out to other media, including a graphic novel that tells the further stories of the characters introduced in the staged show/podcast. In this blog entry, I'd like to talk a little bit further about the main two segments of the show, "Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" and "Beyond Belief." In a follow-up post, I will explore the other programs as well.
Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars
"Sparks Nevada" is a segment that is basically a Western-themed space opera. As the name implies, it takes place on Mars, where for some reason Earthling Sparks Nevada has been put in charge of all law enforcement. His deputy-of-sorts is a Martian named Croach the Tracker who feels he must re-pay his debt of onus to Nevada (with the onus constantly being added to or subtracted from in a balance that only Croach maintains). Each episode sees Sparks and Croach battling some new enemy of sorts, whether a literal attack by robots or something more metaphysical such as Nevada's depression when the woman he loves chooses someone else over him. "Sparks Nevada" is the most serialized of all the segments on The Thrilling Adventure Hour; therefore, this is the one that is best to start with from the beginning rather than trying to jump in now and hope to catch on to all the character arcs and in-jokes.
One of the funniest things about "Sparks Nevada" is the interaction between Sparks and Croach. Sparks is more of a "go with your guts" kind of guy while Croach tries to rationalize and reason through everything. Both have hilarious speech patterns with Sparks spluttering along and Croach coming across rather stilted. As I mentioned, there are numerous in-jokes, including oft-repeated lines and variations of them - for example, Nevada's famous catchphrase "I'm from ... Earth" and Croach constantly explaining Martian things to Sparks with "which you designate [insert English word here]." But as Marc Evan Jackson, the voice talent behind Sparks Nevada, noted in a recent Q&A session about the show, the characters in this show are more than they seem - and they are certainly growing. Jackson pointed this out particularly in the context of Croach, who can seem rather robotic, especially when the show first began, but who has come to developing a wider range of emotions.
However, the "Sparks Nevada" universe is more than just these two characters. There is a host of interesting recurring characters, including the Barkeep (who doesn't want trouble in his place), the artificial intelligence that operates Barkeep's space saloon (and does a lot of thinking on her own), Felton (an everyday citizen who is like the hypochondriac of trouble: he thinks it's there no matter what), the Red Plains Rider (potential love interest of both Sparks and Croach as well as a gunslinger in her own right), Cactoid Jim (a helpful and handsome vigilante; Sparks is often as jealous of Jim as he is grateful to him), Pemilly Stalwark (winner of the Earth's Moon's punishment soccer tournament, a riff on the very popular series The Hunger Games), Rebecca Rose Rushmore (an author of universal acclaim), not to mention all the outlaws that Nevada comes across as a matter of routine in his professional life. These outlaws and the hijinks that they cause add to the hilarity of the show; for instance, the mere entrance of Los Banditos Mutantes causes a ripple of laughter to ensue. The show is a good mix of hilarious situations caused via Nevada's work and those created by the issues in his social life. One of the funniest - and most touching - episodes of all combines both perfectly, in a musical format to boot.
Another thing that I appreciate about this program is that while Westerns as a genre (and to a lesser extent, science fiction as well) tend to be light on female characters, let alone ones that are more than just "damsels in distress" stereotypes, that is not the case here. "Sparks Nevada" may have more men than women on the show, but the female characters that are present are strong and independent. Red is a feisty character with her wits about her who seems to be faster at taking out the bad guys than Nevada is. Of course, the downside is every once in a while due to the fast pace of the show and the need to always create new tensions, Red can sometimes seem a little wishy-washy with her affections - she loves Nevada, she loves Croach, she loves Nevada, she loves Jim, she loves Nevada, she loves Jim. Sometimes it gets hard to remember from episode to episode where her affections lie. Pemilly Stalwak, as the character inspired by The Hunger Games's tough-as-nails protagonist Katniss Everdeen, is a complicated character who is physically tough and learning to become emotionally strong. Rebecca Rose Rushmore is the most stereotypical relationship-hungry woman, but she also has a steady backbone as well as a successful career of her own.
"Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars" is the story that started the whole production and is one of the most popular segments on the show. For that reason, the segment has spawned various spin-offs, including "Cactoid Jim, King of the Martian Frontier" about the further adventures of Cactoid Jim sans Nevada and crew, "Tales of the United Solar System Alliance" about a spaceship crew navigating the same universe and occasionally crossing into a "Sparks Nevada" episode, and most recently a segment featuring the Red Plains Rider in a solo adventure. As the show and the podcast both continue, no doubt we will see (read: hear) more growth in the characters populating the "Sparks Nevada" universe, other ridiculous antics, and perhaps additional spin-offs from the first thrilling adventure of the hour.
Beyond Belief
The Thrilling Adventure Hour always concludes with an episode of "Beyond Belief," which the creators refer to as a supernatural Nick and Nora. This segment's protagonists are the married couple Frank and Sadie Doyle, who'd gladly do nothing more than spend all their time locked up together in their Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment tossing back drink after drink. Sadly for the Doyles (but luckily for us), all manner of supernatural creatures have a knack for finding their way into Frank and Sadie's life. It probably doesn't help that Sadie's best friend is a vampire married to a werewolf and than Frank spent at least some of his orphaned childhood growing up in a church full of exorcists. Still, the Doyles have managed to encountered all types of unpleasant monsters and weird situations even when they don't bother to leave their apartment at all. Evil seeks them out. As the show continues, the "Beyond Belief" monsters have segued from ones we've all heard of such as vampires, genies, and so on to more obscure ones like a possessed gingerbread man, a Pinocchio-inspired boy trying to convince Frank and Sadie that they are his parents, etc. The show is never frightening though (nor is it meant to be) and despite usually being drunk at the time, the Doyles always manage to know exactly what to do in any given situation to eliminate the threat. They do this all while swigging back yet another drink ("clink!" being their catchphrase) and swapping turns on supplying the snappy sarcastic one-liners. The Doyles, especially Frank, also have a habit of lamenting about their desire to be alone with one another rather than actually being worried about the impending threat of whatever latest monster(s) they are facing.
Like with "Sparks Nevada," one of the most compelling things about "Beyond Belief" is the relationship between the two leads. The Doyles' love for each other and complete antipathy for just about everyone else they encounter would be horrible if you met them in real life, but here it's comedy gold. Paul F. Tompkins and Paget Brewster shine in the roles of Frank and Sadie Doyle, and their accents for these two characters are some of the most fun ones on The Thrilling Adventure. Unlike in "Sparks Nevada," these two characters are basically static and you could jump in on any random episode and probably not be missing much. (There are, however, a few episodes that make reference to an earlier one in an important way, such as the recent "Basil's Day" one.) Nevertheless, the characters and their witty repartee (not to mention whatever antics will occur with their latest nemesis) make the show interesting and compelling enough that I actually prefer this one to "Sparks Nevada" (indeed, it's my favorite segment of The Thrilling Adventure Hour, hands down). And while Frank and Sadie don't really change over the life of the show/podcast, that doesn't mean they are always the same from episode to episode. Over time, we learn more about their past lives, their friends, and their few hobbies outside of imbibing alcohol nonstop. Each episode brings a fresh new adventure full of laughs so even without a serialized nature for this segment, I still can't wait for the next one to show up in my queue. "Beyond Belief" is certainly the perfect nightcap to conclude The Thrilling Adventure Hour.
That's all for this post, readers. Stay tuned for part 2, in which I'll discuss the other segments found in The Thrilling Adventure Hour.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Following the Red Balloon
Unintentionally color-themed, I'm following up my post on The Yellow Handkerchief with this post on the classic French film The Red Balloon. Arguably a children's movie, The Red Balloon is a 1956 film featuring the director's son Pascal Lamorisse in the lead as a young boy (around age 6) who encounters a red balloon on his way to school one day. He happily scurries off to the school with the balloon in tow, finding out soon afterwards that this is no ordinary balloon. The mischievous balloon has a mind of its own, so to speak, and definitely moves of its own accord. It becomes a constant companion to the young boy, following him about the streets of Paris on everyday adventures. Later, the two try to escape from the boy's mean classmates/peers who are clearly overwrought with envy about the balloon.
Besides that it is considered an iconic piece of work, I had absolutely no idea what this film was about before I watched it. Add that to the stereotype of French films being depressing, I was delightfully surprised to find this movie sweet and whimsical. There was a moment toward the end I was afraid this wouldn't be so, but everything righted itself onto a uplifting course (pun intended). However, I'm not sure how much children really delight in this short movie, especially given that modern audiences of youngsters are used to fast-paced, brightly colored movies that are usually animated and often peopled with outrageous characters.
The Red Balloon is almost entirely wordless, with only a few lines of dialogue given from the boy to the balloon, generally an admonishment to stay put. It is not, however, an entirely silent film. There is of course the requisite soundtrack but there are also numerous other sound effects heard like a doorbell ringing, cars whirring by, and quite frequently the sound of pounding feet hitting the pavement. These all serve to add to the film's ambiance and heighten the comedy or drama of any particular scene.
But mostly the film's story and atmosphere are captured with the cinematography. Of course, we see a lot of the boy in his gray outfits (and adorable school book bag that looks like a miniature briefcase in my mind, making him seem so grown up) and the balloon, which is vividly red and quite large. Throughout the film, there the cityscape of Paris, with its gray buildings, narrow alleyways, numerous stone steps, balconied apartment buildings, and blue street signs. It certainly carries one right into the city - not the tourist's city, with the Eiffel Tower glimpsed only once in the very far distance and no other major monuments featured, but the city of everyday life, with the boy stepping into a boulangerie and passing by outdoor fruit and vegetable stands. Most people on the streets are minding their own business, worried about their own concerns and hardly noticing the boy and his balloon. The cityscape scenery is a reminder that parts of Paris can be quite gray, which serves as a fitting backdrop for the brightly colored balloons that enter the scene in this film.
With hardly any words and a rather bizarre plot line, The Red Balloon allows for a myriad of interpretations of its appealing visuals. The original New York Times review said of it, "It is a thoroughly simple story of something incredible that could not occur except in the bright imagination of an artist such as Albert Lamorisse, the young Frenchman who made the memorable short 'White Mane' and who wrote, produced and directed this. Yet with the sensitive cooperation of his own beguiling son and with the gray-blue atmosphere of an old Paris quarter as the background for the shiny balloon, he has got here a tender, humorous drama of the ingenuousness of a child and, indeed, a poignant symbolization of dreams and the cruelty of those who puncture them." A more recent look by The New York Times of this movie and White Mane acknowledged, "The stories are simple, fablelike; the heroes are boys; the subject in each case is the purity and power of a child’s imagination; and the tone of both films is that of open-mouthed wonder. Yet these movies are also shot through with a very adult melancholy, an awareness that life tends not to measure up to the glorious pictures in our minds." Slant Magazine has a slightly different view, pointing out that, "The honeymoon is short-lived, but Lamorisse suggests that kids are always keenly attuned to the objects of the world around them: After the boy loses his red friend, a montage of balloons across the city shows them flying to his side and, in the final shot, launching him into the sky. For Lamorisse, then, the pleasures of childhood are as fleeting as they are ecstatic." Thus, a key debate to this film could be whether children are unaware of the bitter ironies of life or whether they are just more resilient than adults in getting back up after life delivers them a blow.
Meanwhile, Brian Gibson of Vue Weekly eschews the idea of capturing childhood innocence being the only goal of this movie or its counterpart White Mane, explaining, "These are post-war stories of innocence threatened—by arrogant, selfish gangs bent on proving their superiority. ... [T]his seems a post-Occupation France happy to forget the blood and death of Hitler’s war a decade earlier. But soon people’s occasional, playful efforts to grab the floating, carefree balloon become grasping and destructive. In a gorgeous sequence, light streaming down alleys as children’s shoes clack and clatter on the cobblestones, the red globe bouncing between the walls, Pascal is hunted down for his floating pet. The film’s ballooning sense of hope and freedom is deflated by a fierce, squabbling mass. Then, fortunately, Lamorisse’s film floats off, with the breeze of magic-realism, into a feeling of escape and peace, The Red Balloon taking hold of Pascal, lifting him out of this rigid, petty, earthbound life." Given the film's date, it is not absurd to read it as, at least in part, a reaction to the horrible war that the film's director undoubtedly lived through - though his son in the starring role obviously did not. Battered but cautiously optimistic and healing is probably a fitting description of Europe a decade after the horrors of World War II and Hitler's cruelties, and the film's young lead follows a similar path when his happiness is shattered by the balloon's bursting but is soon replaced with unimaginable joy when the other balloons of Paris come to his rescue. This final scene of vindication could be seen as symbolic of the dream of Europe ascending to even greater heights than before the war. (Decades later, this is arguably the goal of the European Union.)
After its musings on childhood purity versus adult melancholy, the 2007 New York Times article goes on to note, "When the film is over, you realize that although you’ve been entirely enveloped in little Pascal’s fantasy world, you’ve learned next to nothing about the boy himself. His parents are not in evidence. He lives with a stout, black-clad, rather fearsome-looking old woman who may or may not be his grandmother. We’re given no idea whether he’s a good, bad or indifferent student, or who his friends are. The intensity of his attachment to the balloon suggests that he’s a lonely, dreamy child, living in his own head, but we can’t be sure; the movie gives us nothing solid to go on." It is true that this movie is not a character-driven one like I usually enjoy, or at least it is not so in the traditional understanding of that terminology. Still, the young boy has a somewhat universal characterization about him - he is in some ways the epitome of the underdog that we can all sympathize with and root for through his (albeit brief) journey.
At any rate, this is not your standard classic Hollywood fare! Being so very different than all those rather formulaic 1950s movie gives this film the feeling of being a more modern movie that just happens to be set in the past. The special effects are particularly surprising given the film's date. If you haven't seen this short film yet, I suggest you do. It will delight you and cause you to think about its deeper meanings and themes for some time.
Besides that it is considered an iconic piece of work, I had absolutely no idea what this film was about before I watched it. Add that to the stereotype of French films being depressing, I was delightfully surprised to find this movie sweet and whimsical. There was a moment toward the end I was afraid this wouldn't be so, but everything righted itself onto a uplifting course (pun intended). However, I'm not sure how much children really delight in this short movie, especially given that modern audiences of youngsters are used to fast-paced, brightly colored movies that are usually animated and often peopled with outrageous characters.
The Red Balloon is almost entirely wordless, with only a few lines of dialogue given from the boy to the balloon, generally an admonishment to stay put. It is not, however, an entirely silent film. There is of course the requisite soundtrack but there are also numerous other sound effects heard like a doorbell ringing, cars whirring by, and quite frequently the sound of pounding feet hitting the pavement. These all serve to add to the film's ambiance and heighten the comedy or drama of any particular scene.
But mostly the film's story and atmosphere are captured with the cinematography. Of course, we see a lot of the boy in his gray outfits (and adorable school book bag that looks like a miniature briefcase in my mind, making him seem so grown up) and the balloon, which is vividly red and quite large. Throughout the film, there the cityscape of Paris, with its gray buildings, narrow alleyways, numerous stone steps, balconied apartment buildings, and blue street signs. It certainly carries one right into the city - not the tourist's city, with the Eiffel Tower glimpsed only once in the very far distance and no other major monuments featured, but the city of everyday life, with the boy stepping into a boulangerie and passing by outdoor fruit and vegetable stands. Most people on the streets are minding their own business, worried about their own concerns and hardly noticing the boy and his balloon. The cityscape scenery is a reminder that parts of Paris can be quite gray, which serves as a fitting backdrop for the brightly colored balloons that enter the scene in this film.
With hardly any words and a rather bizarre plot line, The Red Balloon allows for a myriad of interpretations of its appealing visuals. The original New York Times review said of it, "It is a thoroughly simple story of something incredible that could not occur except in the bright imagination of an artist such as Albert Lamorisse, the young Frenchman who made the memorable short 'White Mane' and who wrote, produced and directed this. Yet with the sensitive cooperation of his own beguiling son and with the gray-blue atmosphere of an old Paris quarter as the background for the shiny balloon, he has got here a tender, humorous drama of the ingenuousness of a child and, indeed, a poignant symbolization of dreams and the cruelty of those who puncture them." A more recent look by The New York Times of this movie and White Mane acknowledged, "The stories are simple, fablelike; the heroes are boys; the subject in each case is the purity and power of a child’s imagination; and the tone of both films is that of open-mouthed wonder. Yet these movies are also shot through with a very adult melancholy, an awareness that life tends not to measure up to the glorious pictures in our minds." Slant Magazine has a slightly different view, pointing out that, "The honeymoon is short-lived, but Lamorisse suggests that kids are always keenly attuned to the objects of the world around them: After the boy loses his red friend, a montage of balloons across the city shows them flying to his side and, in the final shot, launching him into the sky. For Lamorisse, then, the pleasures of childhood are as fleeting as they are ecstatic." Thus, a key debate to this film could be whether children are unaware of the bitter ironies of life or whether they are just more resilient than adults in getting back up after life delivers them a blow.
Meanwhile, Brian Gibson of Vue Weekly eschews the idea of capturing childhood innocence being the only goal of this movie or its counterpart White Mane, explaining, "These are post-war stories of innocence threatened—by arrogant, selfish gangs bent on proving their superiority. ... [T]his seems a post-Occupation France happy to forget the blood and death of Hitler’s war a decade earlier. But soon people’s occasional, playful efforts to grab the floating, carefree balloon become grasping and destructive. In a gorgeous sequence, light streaming down alleys as children’s shoes clack and clatter on the cobblestones, the red globe bouncing between the walls, Pascal is hunted down for his floating pet. The film’s ballooning sense of hope and freedom is deflated by a fierce, squabbling mass. Then, fortunately, Lamorisse’s film floats off, with the breeze of magic-realism, into a feeling of escape and peace, The Red Balloon taking hold of Pascal, lifting him out of this rigid, petty, earthbound life." Given the film's date, it is not absurd to read it as, at least in part, a reaction to the horrible war that the film's director undoubtedly lived through - though his son in the starring role obviously did not. Battered but cautiously optimistic and healing is probably a fitting description of Europe a decade after the horrors of World War II and Hitler's cruelties, and the film's young lead follows a similar path when his happiness is shattered by the balloon's bursting but is soon replaced with unimaginable joy when the other balloons of Paris come to his rescue. This final scene of vindication could be seen as symbolic of the dream of Europe ascending to even greater heights than before the war. (Decades later, this is arguably the goal of the European Union.)
After its musings on childhood purity versus adult melancholy, the 2007 New York Times article goes on to note, "When the film is over, you realize that although you’ve been entirely enveloped in little Pascal’s fantasy world, you’ve learned next to nothing about the boy himself. His parents are not in evidence. He lives with a stout, black-clad, rather fearsome-looking old woman who may or may not be his grandmother. We’re given no idea whether he’s a good, bad or indifferent student, or who his friends are. The intensity of his attachment to the balloon suggests that he’s a lonely, dreamy child, living in his own head, but we can’t be sure; the movie gives us nothing solid to go on." It is true that this movie is not a character-driven one like I usually enjoy, or at least it is not so in the traditional understanding of that terminology. Still, the young boy has a somewhat universal characterization about him - he is in some ways the epitome of the underdog that we can all sympathize with and root for through his (albeit brief) journey.
At any rate, this is not your standard classic Hollywood fare! Being so very different than all those rather formulaic 1950s movie gives this film the feeling of being a more modern movie that just happens to be set in the past. The special effects are particularly surprising given the film's date. If you haven't seen this short film yet, I suggest you do. It will delight you and cause you to think about its deeper meanings and themes for some time.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Holmes Set Loose Upon NYC
Earlier this year, I wrote
that there were no new compelling TV shows in the fall lineup. Well, I am
here now to declare myself a liar. Recently, a friend was telling me about the
new CBS show Elementary, which
features a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, and how she was enjoying it. Previously
I had heard only a little bit about the show and didn’t think I would be interested.
After her recommendation though, I decided to give it a try.
Once I watched the pilot of Elementary, I dove right into the rest of the episodes that have aired so far (albeit there’s only been four all together). The show is on Thursday evenings, but since I watch all my TV on the web now, that means I have to wait until Fridays to watch the latest episode. I know many people love to go out on the town on Fridays, declaring it the beginning of the weekend and all kinds of fun, but I’m generally exhausted by then. I like to stay home, do some laundry, catch up other things, and watch something on Hulu or Netflix. So I’m pretty pleased that Elementary will be available to me on Fridays; I’m already sensing it will be become part of my Friday routine.
On a final note, as this has gone on rather longer than I expected, there’s a few things from the original series that haven’t transferred over to this new show that I really think should have. The first is another golden missed opportunity – wouldn’t it just be fun if Holmes and Watson lived at 221B Baker Street in New York, just like their 19th century counterparts did in London? It seems wrong to have Holmess and not have Baker Street. Maybe that’s just me. The second is that Holmes as written by A.C. Doyle was a master of disguise as suited the purposes of his cases. It would entertaining to see Jonny Lee Miller as Holmes do so also, but again I think the character may be limited by the choice of having Watson as a sobriety companion rather than army vet roommate – Holmes and Watson are not allowed to be apart more than two hours, so unless Watson also joins in the fun and games of dressing up for a case, it would be difficult for Holmes to do an extended undercover ruse requiring a disguise. And, finally, there is Holmes’s archenemy, Moriarty. There are rumors that the show will introduce such a character eventually, and I don’t think it’s necessary for him – or her – to have arrived so quickly into the series so on this particular front, I’m happy with how things stand at the moment.
And, since the power went out while I was beginning this post and didn’t come back on for days, it’s now almost Friday again and I can look forward to the next episode of this show!
Once I watched the pilot of Elementary, I dove right into the rest of the episodes that have aired so far (albeit there’s only been four all together). The show is on Thursday evenings, but since I watch all my TV on the web now, that means I have to wait until Fridays to watch the latest episode. I know many people love to go out on the town on Fridays, declaring it the beginning of the weekend and all kinds of fun, but I’m generally exhausted by then. I like to stay home, do some laundry, catch up other things, and watch something on Hulu or Netflix. So I’m pretty pleased that Elementary will be available to me on Fridays; I’m already sensing it will be become part of my Friday routine.
But less about my dull life and more about the show! Elementary, as I’ve already mentioned,
is a modern-day take on Sherlock Holmes. Holmes (Jonny Lee Miller) is a
recovering drug addict, having picked up a nasty heroin addiction while in London. In order to stay
in his father’s good graces (and thus retain residence in his New York City apartment), Holmes has been
assigned a sobriety partner in the person of Joan Watson (Lucy Liu), a former
surgeon. Having met police captain Gregson (Aidan Quinn) in the past and wowed
him with his powers of deductions, Holmes has managed to secure himself a
position as a NYC police consultant, helping with tough-to-crack kidnappings
and murders. Rounding out the cast of characters is police detective Marcus
Bell (Jon Michael Hill).
First off, let’s start by looking at the characters that
make up Elementary. One of the most
compelling things – if not the
compelling thing – about the show is the character of Holmes. Expertly played
by Jonny Lee Miller, who I have loved in the past (excepting the terrible
disappointment of Dark
Shadows), Elementary’s Holmes
is a great new take on a classic character. Sure, A.C. Doyle’s Holmes didn’t
require a sobriety partner per se, but he was indeed a habitual drug user. For
just one instance of this, in The Adventures
of Sherlock Holmes, it is noted that Sherlock spends his time “buried
among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and
ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen
nature.”
We are first introduced to Holmes in Elementary with a woman departing from his residence; Holmes
quickly explains to Watson that he has no interest in relationships but is
occasionally driven by his animal nature to seek out sex. While Elementary’s Watson later insists this
is because Holmes is afraid of commitment, A.C. Doyle’s Dr. Watson explains of
Holmes: “All emotions, and that one [love] particularly, were abhorrent to his
cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect
reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he
would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer
passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the
observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for
the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely
adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a
doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack
in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong
emotion in a nature such as his.” Doyle’s frequent references to Sherlock’s
cold and reasoning mind have lead some to suspect that he
might have Asperser’s syndrome; Jonny Lee Miller plays Holmes in this way
also – he is often brusque and unfeeling in his speech to others, particularly
potential suspects, witnesses, and even friends and family of victims. At
times, he is downright dismissive of Watson, saying things like, “Situations
like these cases require my total concentration. I talk to you, never the other
way around.” or “For future reference. When I say I agree with you, it means
I'm not listening.” But while he’s sometimes irritatingly arrogant, he’s also
lovably quirky and endearing.
And, of course, the Sherlock Holmes of Elementary is a stickler for details, observant to a fault, highly
knowledgeable, and able to draw large inferences from the slightest thing
seemingly off at a crime scene. In this respect, he is very much like his 19th
century counterpart, who has famously said such things as, “It has long been an
axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.” But,
in line with bringing things into the 21st century, this Holmes also
uses Google to make some of his pronouncements and loves the brevity of
texting. And while this Holmes does have a superiority complex that allows him
to view himself as above the police, he seems to value them more than the
original Sherlock and certainly relies upon them more as he does not (as of
yet) take in any private consulting cases. This is very unlike Doyle’s Holmes
who primarily worked on private cases, which only occasionally called for the
assistance of the police.
Elementary’s Watson,
however, does not strike me as very similar to her 19th century
counterpart. For starters, I think the show’s creators missed a golden
opportunity by not making her a veteran like Doyle’s Dr. Watson – it just seems
too absurd not to when history has conspired to make it possible to plausibly
have a modern-day Watson also be an army surgeon who served in Afghanistan. And
wouldn’t it have been delicious for Holmes’s first line when meeting Watson to
be, “You have been in Afghanistan,
I perceive,” as he pronounced upon their initial acquaintance in A Study in
Scarlet? But, I have to admit that Watson’s past, hinted at only
briefly so far, as a surgeon who lost a patient under suspicious circumstances
could potentially become more interesting and add some depth to her character.
(Of course, I could also argue that making her an army vet, perhaps suffering
from what she’s seen of war, could provide depth and an interesting back story
that continues to surface occasionally.) I do love that the creators decided to
make Watson female in this version, showing that these characters can indeed
transcend time, place, and even sex.
But, unfortunately, so far I have found Watson to be a
fairly dull character. True, I doubt many people would have devoured – and
continue to do so – the original Sherlock Holmes canon for Watson alone, but I
felt that telling the stories through his eyes always gave the reader a
tenderness toward Watson and a feeling that he had a more active role in the
cases. Making Watson a sobriety partner rather than a retired army surgeon with
times on his hands changes that dynamic very much. Instead of Watson coming
along to help unravel a mystery out of his own interest or Holmes’s request for
assistance of some sort or another, Watson is merely tagging along out of
necessity and frequently standing on the sidelines without engaging at all.
However, there have been a few times already when Watson has
provided medical knowledge or has somehow figured into Holmes’s scheming to get
information or signal the police for assistance. I hope to see more of this in
the future, with Elementary’s Watson
taking on an increasing role just as Doyle’s Watson did over time, reaching the
point where Holmes could say of his assistant in The
Hound of the Baskervilles: “I am bound to say that in all the accounts
which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievements you have
habitually underrated your own abilities. It may be that you are not yourself
luminous, but you are a conductor of light. Some people without possessing
genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. I confess, my dear fellow, that
I am very much in your debt.” Perhaps not the praise most of would want to
hear, but coming from Sherlock Holmes, that is a very high compliment indeed. Still,
the writers of this show aren’t far off from reaching this kind of level
between their Holmes and Watson, and the language they use to express it is
similar, with Holmes telling Watson, “You know Watson, I take it all back. I'm
beginning to find the chat that accompanying your companionship extremely
useful. It's like white noise. It puts me in a state where I think and obverse
better.”
At this time, I can’t really recall anything else I’ve seen
with Lucy Liu in it, but her name is a big enough draw for many viewers I
suppose. However, I’ve been a bit disappointed in her performance as Watson.
There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of nuance in her acting, and it hasn’t
served to counteract the flatness I currently see in the character, as outlined
above.
My bigger concern with Elementary’s
Watson though is that she is only contracted to remain Holmes’s sobriety
partner for six weeks. With four episodes already passing (generally considered
in TV time to be four weeks then), there are only two more weeks where she is
required to be Holmes’s constant companion. After that time, what will happen?
Will we see Watson no longer? Or will the show’s writers need to come up with
some other contrived premise to keep her around to continue to help Holmes in
his work?
Similar to Watson but to a greater degree, Captain Gregson
and Detective Bell are pretty dull and flat characters. Right now, Gregson’s main
purpose seems to be to provide the details of a given case and support Holmes’s
seemingly wild deductions based on their past history. Meanwhile, Bell mostly serves as a
sounding board for Holmes, always questioning the validity of Holmes’s
assertions, only to find out later that Holmes was indeed correct. It would be
nice at some point if we got a bit more out of these characters, although I
don’t think it’s strictly necessary that they become more fleshed out
characters in order for this show to work. Between the show’s four main
characters, there’s a fair amount of diversity in terms of age, ethnicity/race, and sex, which I'm always pleased to see on a TV show.
Next off, no discussion of this show would be complete
without looking at the cases delved into each week. So far, they have been you
standard, run-of-the-mill crime show cases: kidnappings and murders. To that
end, there’s a bit of sensationalism in some of the show’s scenes, particularly
the opening sequence of the pilot episode. But compared to the many rather gory
crime shows on TV now (think Bones, Criminal Minds, NCIS, etc.), the show is focused more on revealing the thought
process behind solving a crime than on autopsies and gun fights with suspects.
Although the crimes are typical of what you see on other detective shows, the
solutions are rather convoluted in order that the writers might show off Sherlock’s
prowess in deducting from rather insignificant clues that the obvious solution
is in fact not the right one.
While it seems unlikely at this point, I’d like a break from
all the violence and murder we see on so many other TV shows. It would be nice
to get some cases that involve more mundane – but certainly no less interesting
– events. I’m thinking of the many odd cases that A. C. Doyle created for the
original Sherlock Holmes, which varied from retrieving a scandalous photograph
for a member of royalty to tracking down the mysterious “red-headed league” and
reclaiming a member’s dues to determining whether or not a young woman should
take an offered role to be a governess for a family out in the countryside.
While these may seem insignificant, these cases are always absorbing to read
about and usually develop into something larger than they first appear. And, as
A.C. Doyle’s Holmes points out, “Singularity is almost invariably a clue. The
more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the most difficult it is to bring
it home.” Right now, Elementary’s
cases are pretty commonplace for TV crime shows and not particularly singular.
But because the show’s writers have decided to go the course of having Holmes
be a consultant for the police only and taking on no private cases, it’s
unlikely we’ll see any mysteries in the vein of the ones seen in the original
stories.
On a final note, as this has gone on rather longer than I expected, there’s a few things from the original series that haven’t transferred over to this new show that I really think should have. The first is another golden missed opportunity – wouldn’t it just be fun if Holmes and Watson lived at 221B Baker Street in New York, just like their 19th century counterparts did in London? It seems wrong to have Holmess and not have Baker Street. Maybe that’s just me. The second is that Holmes as written by A.C. Doyle was a master of disguise as suited the purposes of his cases. It would entertaining to see Jonny Lee Miller as Holmes do so also, but again I think the character may be limited by the choice of having Watson as a sobriety companion rather than army vet roommate – Holmes and Watson are not allowed to be apart more than two hours, so unless Watson also joins in the fun and games of dressing up for a case, it would be difficult for Holmes to do an extended undercover ruse requiring a disguise. And, finally, there is Holmes’s archenemy, Moriarty. There are rumors that the show will introduce such a character eventually, and I don’t think it’s necessary for him – or her – to have arrived so quickly into the series so on this particular front, I’m happy with how things stand at the moment.
And, since the power went out while I was beginning this post and didn’t come back on for days, it’s now almost Friday again and I can look forward to the next episode of this show!
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