Xixax Film Forum

Film Discussion => News and Theory => Topic started by: Scrooby on March 08, 2022, 12:28:53 AM

Title: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on March 08, 2022, 12:28:53 AM
Everything that happens in Phantom Thread takes place every day in the life of an artist : so to speak : one undifferentiated duration, sliced up any way you like it. PTA is close. As he himself says, we are all still learning.




https://www.odysseyandiliad.com/
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on March 18, 2022, 07:22:16 AM
Here on Xixax I once communicated a number of intricate linkages between PT's script and Shakespeare's plays, particularly Hamlet. Since these posts remain, no repetition of their content is here required.

But I have made a new discovery.

Back in the day, I contemplated the chilling depth of Alma's initial revelation : "Every piece of me."

Chilling, because "every piece" would, we must agree, encompass all that is bad in her as well as all that is good. Such is evoked in the all-inclusive word "every".

Now: in Hamlet (3.1), King Claudius, murderer of his brother, is informed that a play is scheduled for performance that very night in the palace; and the king is very happy to hear it.

First, this is the news he receives :

POLONIUS : "players  . . . are here . . . and have already order[ed] . . . to play tonight."

And POLONIUS continues : "Hamlet . . . beseech'd me to entreat your Majesties to hear and see the matter."

To all this, in its creepy truth, the king's response is very like Alma's :

KING: "With all my heart."

Why is this response by the king creepy? Because the performance of the players in their play will kindle in the king's heart all the horrible deeds he's done to his brother. Thus, King Claudius' cheery response, "With all my heart", is a creepy prolepsis, because the impromptu play will indeed encompass every piece of his heart—including all that is bad in there.

And this linguistic joke from the cleverest of authors is on the king himself.

And so it it that Hamlet the character, at one point, describes people in general : "Man delights not me."


Love, Scroobily.


Another link between PT(A) and Shakespeare, of which there are many.


https://www.odysseyandiliad.com/
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2022, 02:00:54 PM
Hi, folks.

In my short paper "First Thematic Lens Flare in Cinema History?" (2018), I examine the use of a rainbow-shaped flare in Eyes Wide Shut. The essay is available online, so no need to expand here. 

http://www.jeffreyscottbernstein.com/kubrick/images/thematiclensflare.pdf

Since EWS, I have seen two more uses of the Thematic Lens Flare.

Phantom Thread. In the second omelette scene we see the rainbow lens flare prominent in the frame as an omen of death.

Spielberg's West Side Story. When the lovers first meet, the film frame is ablaze with striking flares of a density and duration never before seen in a Spielberg movie. Then all lens flares virtually disappear for the rest of the film's running time. Then, near the end of the story, when one lover is searching for the other, and scans an empty street, all those lens flares from over an hour of running time earler return to fill the sky : a visual reminder of what is burning in the character's heart.



Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 09, 2022, 11:39:31 PM
Ancient Greek : μήστωρ : both pronounced and transliterated, pretty much, as "master" : this word means "adviser, counsellor" . . . and is a common Homeric epithet for Zeus (e.g., Iliad 8.22).

Other shades of meaning : "of heroes : with reference to their wisdom, or prowess"; also "raiser" (e.g., of the battle-cry); and "author".

(And recall the name of the Master's sea-going vessel, which translates to, generally speaking, "Truth", and is a major concept in Heidegger.)

Best wishes.

Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 10, 2022, 06:24:44 PM
Alma's "Let me drive" is powerfully reminiscent of Medea's appeal for "committe habenas, genitor" ("let me take the reins, father"; Seneca, 33), which, in both cases, leads to horror.

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 22, 2022, 10:59:36 AM
On Jonny Greenwood's Score

When I recently heard the first few minutes of the score of PT, my mind almost melted from the genius. I didn't notice it at the time of first release, because Debussy got in the way. The first theme, yes, recalls Debussy : but the second theme (or bridge passage) recalls, very strongly, Beethoven's Piano Sonatas. Greenwood is a massive artist.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 23, 2022, 04:33:14 PM
Another auditory sighting of "so and so" (in this instance, "those so and so's") :

Sunset Boulevard (1950) : a fitting conjunction, since this film concerns the early days of Hollywood.

Moreover, the angle of the shot of Cyril peering over a balcony down upon the woman wearing Woodcock's couture dress at a gala function, a set-up which originally recalled to me Rebecca (1940), also kinda recalls the angle of this shot (but reversed) from the climactic moments of Sunset Blvd :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/86/d3/00/86d3005a0854ca8417e1f0751ac72f2a.jpg)

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 26, 2022, 12:21:50 AM
From the authoritative ancient Greek dictionary referred to as Liddell & Scott :


" τίζω (verb) : to be always asking 'what?' "



https://www.odysseyandiliad.com/
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on May 17, 2022, 02:48:17 AM
Remember in Punch-Drunk Love when the character falls off his chair, tangentially to the scene and ensuing action? Now, Fair Reader, we can absorb this moment in various ways; here are only a few, mentioned as a trigger of thought for others : (1) yes, the falling man is a nod to the classic romps of the 1930s, and further back to the wacky antics of the silent era; (2) yes, we may read into the falling man something significant symbolically regarding the coming change of the main character (e.g., the Hanged Man tarot card conveys not especially, or exclusively, death, but, as tradition would have it, transformation). (3) Just here I'll reflect on the phenomenon of "falling over" itself; that is to say, a human being physically shifting position from upright to sprawled. "Why is this funny?" asked the philosopher Bergson. "Why do people laugh at people falling?" So Bergson wrote an entire book exploring that one question. Fundamentally (and now comes a heavy thought for Xixax and the Internet), the Falling Man may be funny because people laughing at it see in the phenomenon of Falling a violation of Reason. Reason itself is founded on nothing more than the physical sensation of standing upright. Yes, folks, one's confidence is founded on air, and nothing else, for a lifetime. Now here comes the money-shot : though most no-one would care to believe the philosopher's viewpoint just stated (which dates back to the ancient Greeks), still and all, people laugh when they see other people fall down—because of Reason's involuntary reaction of "I win! I am stronger and better! I am real! I am the Right Way! I am upright and confident! I know everything! So there!" Just as, for example, a registered Democrat votes Democrat, so Reason stumps for Reason, and laughs at the falling man.

But Bleep says : the Artist-Philosopher laughs at the upright. Thus, PTA : "People."

And so now back to the Iliad, Book XI, subtitled "Apocalypse Now".

"Man. I like the sound of that."

https://www.odysseyandiliad.com/

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: DickHardwood2022 on May 17, 2022, 04:16:41 AM
To be honest mate I was thinking the same thing  :yabbse-grin:
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on May 18, 2022, 06:43:26 AM
If you were a character in Homer, you would be honoured as "cervix-touching Hardwood".

Best wishes.

Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: DickHardwood2022 on May 18, 2022, 08:12:52 AM
Quote from: Bleep on May 18, 2022, 06:43:26 AMIf you were a character in Homer, you would be honoured as "cervix-touching Hardwood".

Best wishes.



I feel honoured
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on May 20, 2022, 04:28:50 AM
"I know him every which way." : this is an example of "big talk", because it becomes obvious he doesn't, considering the outcome of his life.

"If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?" Not only is asking the question—and now the adjective here becomes difficult to place, because much phenomena is taking place—curious (e.g., is Anton truly interested in the answer? is he being sadistic? is he mocking life? is he conveying his supremacy in thought and all else? is he spitting in the eye of Destiny? or is . . . ?), but this very question, however it is initially posed, comes back to haunt Anton in a humorous way : when he himself is hit broadside by the automobile of Destiny. His own "rule" brought him to that. Oops. And now how is much-capable Anton going to fix that?
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 10, 2022, 06:23:50 AM
Has anyone ever mentioned various significant aspects of this moment? The moment when Barry sees Lena's car pull up into the company lot that first morning?

1. This audible reaction of Barry's to an outside event, especially in its drawn-out duration, expresses Barry's claustrophobic conjunction with the outside world. (E.g., Barry might watch the car's progress dispassionately, and without audible comment.)

2. This exclamation conveys, unknowingly, the momentous change coming to him.

And so on.

(P.S. Doesn't "Egan" recall the word "again"? As in "Barry Again"? This also has many significations (e.g., repetition compulsion); also, say, perhaps, amid the tumult of meanings : Barry Lyndon, again?)

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 19, 2022, 02:34:37 PM
"Say 'what' one more time . . . !"

Humorously enough, there is a word in ancient Greek on this very characterological attribute :

" τίζω " : to be always asking 'what?' (Liddell & Scott) (derived from " τίς " : 'what' )

"Say τίς one more time, M.F.! I dare you!"

Best wishes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5IsSvqiUgM
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 19, 2022, 04:43:58 PM
Ted Bundy, in his heyday in the 1970s, was the most infamous serial killer in America, whose unthinkably horrible reign of terror spread from the west coast to the east coast. His character was forward-looking in a variety of ways : for a simple example (possibly the least important point of all) his was the first nationally televised court trial. Bundy, in fact, was treated as a celebrity, in the manner of OJ a decade later, as if he were more pop-culture icon than bone-chilling and hyper-cunning sociopath. Luckily for everyone, however (even those enjoying his exploits), he was finally caught, and sizzled to death in Florida in 1989.

Now :

(a.) At the beginning of Kubrick's The Shining, we see a yellow Volkswagen bug driving in Colorado : this would have sent shivers of abject terror down the spines of all Americans at the time of first release (1980), as a yellow VW bug tooling round Colorado was indeed Bundy obliterating victims in the worst way, and precisely round that time. The VW bug was Bundy's auto of choice for his evil work for years.

(b.) At the opening of No Country for Old Men, we hear of a stone-cold killer who killed a fourteen-year-old girl : this may be a reference to Bundy's final killing, of a girl of about that age, at just that time in history (i.e., 1980). This particular reference is especially pointed because the narrator is speaking of a new kind of criminal — and that was precisely what Bundy was : Bundy, unfortunately, was the future of serial killing in America (e.g., his unspeakably complex and inhuman psychopathology).

(Addendum : It was due to Bundy primarily that the FBI inaugurated the serial killer unit featured in Silence of the Lambs, a story itself inspired by Bundy's assistance with the authorities in their struggle to catch yet another slaughterous criminal, the Green River Killer.)

Bundy may also appear in Fargo (just as Psycho appears there, before it returns in Burn After Reading) : (c.) both the kidnapped woman under a blanket in the backseat (a usual m.o. for Bundy), and (d.), in what may be an even more direct allusion, the killers being almost thwarted due to a minor traffic infraction. Indeed, "the master criminal" Bundy himself, who somehow, and miraculously, escaped custody not once but twice, was also caught twice because of the most minor and idiotic automobile offenses in each instance, and was also almost caught a third time as well (but he successfully fled the scene).

(And one of his escapes involved an almost unthinkable patience in bringing it to term, reminiscent somewhat of Stephen King's Shawshank Redemption).

There is more. I could go on. And on. But, hey, what are the rest of the users here for, but to analyze and offer close commentary, to raise everyone's game?

Best wishes.

EXTRA : in No Country for Old Men, when Anton says "ATM", he might be referring to Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, a film which inspired the opening montage of No Country (and a sound effect from 2001 opens Burn After Reading). Regarding all the running processes that HAL-9000 is involved in throughout the film : at one vital point in the narrative, one process that keeps repeating itself is visually noted as "ATM". Have a look and see. . . .

Also, in the same scene (Anton confronting Woody) there is an instance of what I call the "extremely short pan" : has anyone ever in the history of film criticism written of this technique, which has examples leading back to the silent era? After Anton dispatches of Woody, he turns his attention to the telephone, and the camera pans to the left, but travels only a very short duration : this technique is used to powerful effect in many of the greatest films, including, surprise, 2001 : A Space Odyssey, when the bone-wielding "hero" is revelling in his successful kill and power (and yes, the extremely short pan is to the left, as in No Country). But I'll let the honorable others here compile a list of memorable "extremely short pans" in cinema history.

Once more, best wishes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hB5vzKWI3RM
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 02, 2022, 06:18:45 AM
Woody says : "I remember names, dates, faces." His eidetic memory is a manifestation of his character's general fastidiousness (but then recall the one time he does forget something, later in the film : he forgets his own meticulousness. In letting his guard down, the one thing he forgets is himself). His memory skills are a not uncommon trait among "psychopatic killers" : their full-blooded recall for their exploits, however detailed and expansive these may be in space and time.

See, for example, Capote's In Cold Blood : "He [Dick Hickock] talked [to the police] for an hour and fifteen minutes" . . . "summoning his talent for something very like total recall." Or Ted Bundy's meticulous description of the terrain of his crimes, even a decade later. (E.g., Keppel's book, The Riverman (1995) : "Ted described the Issaquah site like he was replaying a videotape in his mind.")

Coincidentally, in the same book, Bundy says : "If a guy has, for whatever reason, insulated himself from the reality of what he did, but can discuss it in the third person or better yet, in the first person without getting specific, you're getting gradually closer to the truth. I mean, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, including the names, dates, and places—everything he knows." This phrase recurs I think six times in a small space of pagination. Also coincidentally, one phrase Bundy uses more than a few times is "There's no doubt in my mind." (E.g., Tommy Lee.) Coincidences abound. (See an earlier post on No Country and Bundy.)

Bonus item of dubious merit : the concept of the "transponder"—and its central position on 9/11. (E.g., "Didn't think a car would burn like that." (Steel aflame that melted from the heat and three skyscrapers collapsed : the WTC; and the 47-story Building 7 at 5:20 p.m.))
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 02, 2022, 11:38:07 PM
Does Michael Madsen not say, referring to his gun, "I feel naked without it"?

This is the very use of the word in Homer's Iliad : "γυμνός" means both "unarmed" and "naked".

See Iliad, XVI, 815.

There are many correspondences between Hateful Eight and ancient literature (see an earlier post). A compendious study is required. Who's willing?

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 04, 2022, 11:38:38 PM
The Queen says to her warrior son, at crunch time :

"spes tu nunc una" (Bk XII.57) :

"You're my only hope."


https://allpoetry.com/poem/16080232-Grimwood--Episode-1-by-Scroobily
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 04, 2022, 11:50:05 PM
The Argives surged against the Trojans till the two armies
struggled by the high stone wall surrounding the city of Troy.
Patroclus looked ready to take Troy on his own command;
and ragefully he reached one colossal corner of the wall,
which ran up high into the clouds, where Apollo Shooter
took his stand. When Patroclus put his foot against the wall
(a sign that the city was threatened with imminent ruin)
while spearing Trojans dead all round him, and his Myrmidons
advanced on the city gates, leaving a widespread carnage
in their wake, then Apollo placed a silver arrow on his bow,
and let fly at Patroclus. And the arrow slammed against
his shield, knocking his foot off the wall and leaving him shaken;
and three times Apollo shot at Patroclus, his arrows
hammering Patroclus' shield with three gigantic blows,
the god shoving away the man from the wall with certain aim
and immortal bow. And Patroclus concluded a god
now was helping the Trojans, yet charged at the wall a fourth time;
and with one hand holding his spear and the other on the hilt
of his sword, he made ready to continue killing, then stopped
cold. And all the Myrmidons saw their leader on the battlefield
begin to take steps backward, retreating from his offensive,
and the Myrmidons were mystified. But they did not know
that Apollo had just spoken into the ear of Patroclus,
saying :

"Zeus-born! Go back! Fate shall not have you obliterate Troy
with your hands. Nor will Achilles either, with his stronger hands."


At that, the voice of Apollo, Patroclus retreated
from the sky-high wall of the city of Troy.

Meanwhile, Hector's quick-galloping horses approached
the Scaean gate, and there he slowed his chariot, mystified
in mind. Should he lead the entire army within the walls
of the city, or turn round and drive back into the fight?

So Apollo spoke into the ear of Hector too, saying :

"Hector, why retreat now? Slinking away from the battlefield
is abominable. That's not you. You are not weak, but strong.
So turn the chariot round and make straight for Patroclus,
and if you kill him you shall win the admiration of Apollo."


Thus Apollo Hunter; and as the high sun broke through the air-
borne dust, so Hector, his bronze armour glinting in a sunbeam,
looked all around him for enemy Patroclus. And again,
but this time so close to their goal, the Argives met resistance
from the Trojans, as Apollo flew over the battlefield,
and loosened the order of the Achaean lines, and dissolved
their offensive into confuséd motion and failure, yet
again, so that Hector and his army might win glory.
So a panic blazed through the heart of the Argive warriors
while they fought in the shadow of Ilium's sky-high wall,
as Apollo of Health and Harm flew over the battlefield. 

Hector then saw Patroclus in the midst of the fight, and turned
to his charioteer, the combat-wise Cebriones, and gave
order to lash the horses into battle, and charge forward
straight to Patroclus. Apollo, meanwhile, watched from above.

And Patroclus saw Hector racing at him; he saw how Hector
ignored the fight around him, and let the other warriors
be, as in single-minded pursuit he closed in on his goal.

So Patroclus readied himself to face off, and raised his spear
—but in his left hand; for in his right he held a stone, jagged
and crushing, that he kept hidden in his fingers. So he stood
in perfect balance, and kept his eyes on Hector's chariot
as it came close; then Patroclus threw the rock, a perfect shot
that hit between the eyes of Cebriones, a half-brother
of Hector's. The rock hit him with such force that the driver
dropped the reins and tumbled backward out of the chariot-box,
and Hector grabbed the chariot rim for support while his
horses ran free and wild, and he ground his teeth at the loss
of Cebriones.

Now Patroclus' rock hit the hapless Cebriones
so hard that bone shattered, and by the time the charioteer
hit the dirt, both his eyeballs had spilled out of his head.
He hit the dirt, but kept falling, down into the blind darkness
beneath the earth, for he was already dead; so his body
lay there, limp and spiritless.

And Hector leapt out of his out-of-control chariot,
and came down hard in his shining armour with a rattle.
Breathing heavily, he glared hatefully at Patroclus,
who was about to shout out to him, then thought better of it.

Instead, he sprang at the fallen body of Cebriones
with the fury of a lion with an arrow in its breast
yet ravaging the farmyard regardless, and his own courage
invites his ruin, and brings it. Just so did Hector spring at
Patroclus, like a second lion fighting for the dead deer
at their feet, both terribly hungry and hell-bent on fighting
for their prize, battling together up on the mountain heights.
The two warriors Patroclus and Hector battered each other
ruthlessly with their swords while stepping carefully round the body,
lest one fall and face certain death at the blade of the other.
Meanwhile, some Trojans had grabbed hold of Cebriones' head,
and some Achaeans held his two feet firmly, and neither end
would let go; but all this neither fighter noticed as they clashed
in mighty combat. And their terrible passion for each other's death
caught fire in both armies, and spread swiftly outward. No one
thought of retreat, only destructive advance, and both armies
contrived cataclysmic havoc as they sprang on one another,
as the South and East Winds combine in a deep forest to tear
all the trees apart—the long-stretched beech, ash, pine—and the clamour
of hissing leaves and snapping branches and falling tree-trunks fills
the stormy sky : so around Cebriones' body came an
aerial assault of spears and arrows, some mauling men, some
fixing in the earth, some sticking in the hapless corpse : and the
feathered arrows kept flying off the bow-strings, and many huge
rocks came soaring in to shatter indefensible shields and
flatten men; and all this while, as they fought round his body,
the dead Cebriones lay motionless in the whirling dust,
a shadow of a magnitude; and with his death much knowledge
of the art of driving the war-chariot was lost forever.

Now the sun had reached the zenith of its daily round.
And back and forth flew the arrows and spears, many reaching their
mark, and the warriors on both sides kept falling. But at
the hour when the oxen in the fields are liberated
from the yoke, and the farmers savour their early afternoon
meal, then the balance-scales of fate weighed toward the Achaeans,
and they proved themselves to be the better men. So they dragged off
Hector's half-brother Cebriones, and stripped off the armour
from his body, as war-spoils, while the noise of battle
thundered round them. And Patroclus rushed (now here, now there), as he
charged on the enemy, and brought down many Trojan warriors
to the dust with his quick-moving spear, a very  Ἄρης   
in human form, and he killed twenty-seven men. Then, after
a moment's rest, Patroclus charged again, like a god, but this
time he was to face actual gods, who bring men beginnings
and endings : for the god Apollo, not here the Far-Shooter,
not here the Healer, not here the Averter of Harm, not here
the Rescuer—not to Patroclus : to him Apollo came
as the god of awful sacrifices. And he came in a sudden
blast of blinding sunlight that obscured Patroclus' sight,
and the battlefield whirled before his eyes : and someone (it was
Apollo) knocked the very helmet off his head, and it clanged
on the ground in the midst of the galloping feet of the horses :
Patroclus' plumed helmet, dishonoured in the dust, its horse-
hair stained with blood. Never before had this helmet hit the dirt,
but had ever protected the graceful head of Achilles,
who have given it for Patroclus to wear : but now Zeus Orderer
had granted it to Hector to lift and put upon his head.
And in the storm of battle, the spear in Patroclus' hand
broke apart, just like that, however heavy, massive, and strong
it had been, with its lethal sparkling bronze-point. And his shield
fell away from his shoulders when its buckled strap was cut, and
it clattered in the dirt at his feet : and when Patroclus looked
down, then Zeus' son himself, Apollo of the Mice, undid
his clutching breast-plate, thereby exposing his vulnerable
chest. And all these things—the blinding light, the snapped spear, the helmet,
the loosened corslet—all these things happened simultaneously
to Patroclus, whose only response could be incredulity,
and momentary bewilderment. Then it turned worse for him,
when a spear entered his shoulder. It was a successful cast
by Panthous' son Euphorbus, who surpassed all his Trojans
in the spear, and in chariot-fighting, and in speed of action;
and already he had picked off twenty Achaeans when they
had come too close in their chariots to Euphorbus, master
of war. So now he had injured the wondrous Patroclus,
who came to his senses when the spear-point entered his body.
Enraged beyond telling, Patroclus reached behind him and yanked
the spear out of him; and when glorious Euphorbus, master
of war, saw this, he fled back into the thick of his army,
unwilling to face his opponent any more in any way,
regardless of how exposed Patroclus now stood in the fray,
and with a bloody wound besides. Patroclus, too, retreated
back among his men, completely baffled, and fearing terrible
fate.

But Hector had kept his eye on Patroclus the entire
time and sprang onto him now, and the two fell onto the ground,
Patroclus in Hector's quickly-crushing arms. And the two men
were almost nose to nose, they heard and felt each other's breathing
and their eyes bored into one another's : and Patroclus tried
to extricate himself but Hector's arms would not budge. Then he
saw a dagger in the air, rising in front of him, and he
grabbed at Hector's arm, but Hector pushed down, strenuously,
and the dagger point pierced Patroclus' chest : and he breathed out,
and heard Hector speaking to him, softly now :

"Patroclus, you came to destroy our city and take away
our freedom, and our women back to whatever hellhole
you come from, whatever 'dear, native fatherland'. But I have
destroyed you. You lose. In front of everyone you have now met
Hector. And this dagger proves that I am leader of the war-
loving Trojans. I defend them from this fatal chance of yours.
You, meanwhile, will be eaten by the vultures piece by piece.
Where is Achilles to help you? Where is the great Achilles
now? This dagger of mine you feel proves his love. And I'm sure
he commanded this before you entered the field : 'Don't come back,
Patroclus, master warrior, until you have soaked Hector's
tunic red with his blood.' This, I think, he said to you, while you
came here, and he waits behind. And now he will wait forever.
And all the confidence you came here with, has brought you to this."


And Patroclus felt the dagger continue its slow killing drive
into his flesh, and his struggling ceased, for his energy
was gone. But still you spoke, Patroclus. Answering Hector, he said :

"Celebrate while you can, Hector. But you're mistaken. The gods
undid me in a moment. If they'd never come I'd've killed
twenty of you. Apollo killed me, not you. And at that time
some other Trojan wounded me. So you've come to me a bit
late in my killing. So I wouldn't feel so victorious.
But remember I said this when the right moment comes :
Achilles is going to kill you."

And so by this time Hector's dagger was in Patroclus'
heart, and death took him away into the darkness of Hades,
leaving behind a body of exceeding strength and beautiful
youth. But his soul was gone. Yet δῖος Hector spoke anyway :

"So you say, dead man. Some prophesy of death came true for you
at least. I say Achilles will lie dead at my feet. I will take his life too."

So spoke Hector, and slipped his dagger out of the dead body.
Then he turned to destroy the charioteer Automedon,
but he was gone. His fast-footed horses, the immortal ones,
given to Peleus by the gods, had taken him away,
those very beautiful gifts.


End of
Bk XVI


Title: What movies can You think of?
Post by: Scrooby on August 08, 2022, 10:19:16 AM
Both Euripides (in ancient Greek) and Seneca (in Latin) wrote plays called Trojan Women. Both plays deal with the same general situation : the cataclysmic hours after the initial fall of the city of Troy.

Seneca, writing many hundreds of years after Euripides and his Greek world, begins his play in a manner pretty much identical to Euripides. Both plays begin with a sombre song (or songs?) sung by the protagonist and Chorus. Act 1 of Seneca is, generally speaking, an intentional rewrite of Act 1 of Euripides, with a Senecan spin to it.

But after that, the two plays are completely different. The Senecan play, after fifteen minutes or so, shifts full-blown into a completely different structure. Seneca severs the cord with Euripides, and puts him aside for the duration.

So, "here's the thing" (e.g., House of Games) : why does Seneca structure his play in this way?

It's a cool thing to do, for one thing. The opening of the Seneca is akin to a sort-of psychedelic reminiscence of a massive past. It puts the audience into a freaky dream state, then shifts them abruptly into another state, a more traditionally-ordered state, for the rest of the play. The evolving structure shifts the audience into the present, so to speak, and the narrative kicks into high gear.

So, generally : Seneca begins his play with an atmospheric set-piece, then after fifteen minutes or so, cuts to a completely different way of telling his story. Initial commentary : Act 1 of Seneca could be sliced off, so the play begins with Act 2, yet there would be no alteration to the story. . . .

What movies can You think of with this sort of structure?
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 11, 2022, 04:08:10 AM
What sort of building does that resemble?

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/27/cc/3c/27cc3ce326232ffef5a0aeecc1e24ec7.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/83/3c/ad/833cadaa7421968a93f3e91485addbce.jpg)
Title: "Hear me baby, hold together."
Post by: Scrooby on August 12, 2022, 09:16:28 AM
"Hear me baby, hold together."

Han Solo to Millennium Falcon; or young director to film.
Title: Anton and Ted
Post by: Scrooby on August 14, 2022, 03:14:53 AM
Anton : "The coin got here the same way I did."

sounds very similar to a comment that Ted Bundy gave to two journalists in 1989 :

Bundy : ". . . This is why this Ball girl found herself to be the next victim."

Ah, the perspective of the phrase found herself.
Title: Amazing eye-lights
Post by: Scrooby on August 15, 2022, 06:46:38 AM
Three amazing eye-lights in cinema history.

From one of PTA's favorite films :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e9/0f/a9/e90fa9fb828a3e72bbc20150b507ab9f.jpg)

The Bitter Tea of General Yen (1933)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7f/ad/5b/7fad5b4652f5dc62fb15edf0c143aaa5.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e6/f8/ab/e6f8ab863552131b63cd5afa27467e29.jpg)

What will you discover today?
Title: Carla Jean vs. Anton
Post by: Scrooby on August 16, 2022, 05:26:32 AM
Carla Jean vs. Anton

Llewelyn Moss is a man with above-average intelligence but no intuition. (As demonstrated in the inside-the-bus scene.) Hence, he had no way to win. Reason alone doesn't bring a person to the "Big Win." (FMJ)

His wife, however, does have a "bad feeling" : and in the end, because she's clued into things, she wins, somewhat. Because by not "calling it", perhaps she skews Anton's world? If she had called it, thereby absolving Anton of all personal responsibility, perhaps he would have fled without incident? This is one way of an infinite number of ways of looking at "it". Thinking this way complexifies matters at this critical point in the narrative.

Can we agree that it is because Anton is following his "rule" that he appears before Carla Jean Moss?

If so, then we need go no further, if we like, and simply say : "By following his rule, Anton messed up. Destiny itself came up against another destiny! (As in the Oresteia and Iliad.)"

An artwork has a theoretically infinite number of significations, depending on the time one devotes to it. But a Story, a type of artwork, must have a Foundation : a foundation simple enough so that the audience "has no doubt in their minds" moment by moment of what is generally going on.

If we move further from the Ultimate Foundation, so to speak, of Anton "following his rule", and complexify the final Carla Jean Moss sequence, then many things happen, one of which being : her character takes on weight. She has the last word in their encounter.

She, the dead woman, has the last word in their encounter, because she was connected in some intimate way to things : hence her intuition was correct. Correct was her "bad feeling".

And a participant might think of whatever else.

A participant is not a viewer, not a watcher, but a maker of meaning beyond the Simple Foundation. The more concentration, the sharper the thought, the more multitudinous the understanding = the more powerful the Being.

Art is Freedom. And if your thoughts are interesting to others : "fine, wonderful, marvellous." (Brazil)
Title: Anton Tarantino
Post by: Scrooby on August 16, 2022, 07:16:37 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c4/d0/81/c4d081b673bd73807240e9357092dd82.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e0/54/88/e05488e8777897db501ff12bf6e74535.jpg)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Reel on August 16, 2022, 12:20:26 PM
Is that really how her face looked in the film?! Haven't seen it for awhile...
Title: Putting No Country into Iliad
Post by: Scrooby on August 17, 2022, 03:46:02 AM
Thus spoke Zeus, who then sent powerful inspirations of spirit
down into the hearts and minds and legs of the two marvellous
horses. So the pair shook their heads, sending the dust from their manes
down onto the ground by their massive hoofs. Then they leapt forward
in a gallop that left their charioteer Automedon
gripping the rim for support, and entered the field of battle.
In this way good Patroclus' chariot rushed back into
the fray, as the immortal horses of Achilles, galloping
with colossal strides, joined the fighting Trojans and Achaeans.

And Automedon, occupying the chariot-box behind
them, raised his spear and fought, though the death of Patroclus troubled
his soul. His grief made him stronger. So he attacked the Trojans
on his way back to the ships, and felled many a warrior
with his spear as he swooped in like a vulture attacking geese,
taking them one by one before they even knew what was what.

But the horses kept increasing in power, the beautiful
immortal horses of Zeus, and finally Automedon
realized he had to drop his spear and grab the reins, or expect
to tumble out of the chariot-box! Never had these horses
required so much of his strength to steer them. Never had they
run so magnificently. So with reins in hand Automedon
coaxed the horses to slow the pace, so he might remain upright
and inside the chariot-box, and not tumbled out onto
the dirt, where he would be an easy prey for the enemy.

And as he slowed down a friend rolled up beside him in his own
chariot, even Alcimedon, son of Laerces, who
was Haemon's son. And he spoke out to Automedon, saying :

"Automedon! What god has stolen your wits? Have you no mind?
What are you doing here, fighting the best fighters they have
on your own, with no warrior to wield the spear beside you?"

Then answered Automedon, son of Diores :

"Payback," he said. "Alcimedon, Patroclus is dead. One of
the smartest of us all, is gone. He could hold these fierce horses
and kill with the spear at once, when he was beside me. But Fate
is Death, and in answer to everything I am taking many lives."

And Alcimedon answered Automedon, saying :

"Then step aside! I'm coming to join you!"

And as their chariots moved side by side
Alcimedon jumped from one to the other.
Then he took the shining reins in his hands,
and the whip; and Automedon raised bronze.

During this, δῖος Hector saw them break through the swirling dust,
coming toward the fighting raging round the valuable corpse;
and he turned to Aeneas, who was fighting nearby, and spoke :

"Aeneas! Look at that coming at us! That's dead Patroclus'
chariot pulled by Achilles' very-pissed-off horses!
But the men look weak and tiny behind them. I'll take them myself,
both of them. But if you assist me we'll kill them faster."
Title: Amazing thematic telephoto effect in EWS
Post by: Scrooby on August 17, 2022, 09:57:34 AM
Since 1999, I have watched EWS something like 300, 400 times. My Notes on Eyes Wide Shut, written in autumn 1999, demonstrated that my mind was in close synchronization with the film. But (and call me a slow learner), it took until earlier today for me to notice something . . . mind-bendingly amazing.

Back in 1999, in my Notes on Eyes Wide Shut, I wrote about the "Rainbow Dots Motif" : those shots of EWS (few in number) with multicolored Christmas lights blurry in the background (telephoto effect) to visualize characterological interiority and to convey something thematic. Two examples follow : the final shot of the Marion sequence (the dots convey her "upset"); and Dr. Bill in the Sonata Cafe saying, "You're a long way from home."

In the last shot of the daytime Somerton gate scene, in the right third of the screen, the trees in the background, due to the telephoto effect, are generating the "Rainbow Dots Motif"
: the dots are moving, not frozen as in a jpeg : they are mutating (recalling Seneca's "obscura nutat silva"), wavering like a man's mind mystified : an effect similar to the wavering effect in Fassbinder's Angst vor der Angst (1975), but, here, in the background.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/dc/22/20/dc2220e912db5d3eefb1846de69eadc0.jpg)
Title: No Country Order
Post by: Scrooby on August 18, 2022, 06:47:12 AM
The human perspective : order in Nature.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d9/fa/fd/d9fafd88b19233acd55dd4655d05d007.jpg)

"Wouldn't think a car would burn like that." (i.e., 1.42.06)


Title: Ancient No Country
Post by: Scrooby on August 19, 2022, 01:18:11 AM
ἐπιλίγδην : "glance shot"

Iliad, XVII, 599.

Wait! In the same sentence is the phrase γράψεν δέ οἱ ὀστέον ἄχρις : "cut all the way to the bone", which recalls :

"Mister, you got a bone sticking out your arm."
Title: Country Transitioning Apocalypse Now
Post by: Scrooby on August 19, 2022, 04:10:46 AM
transitionary.

Apocalypse Now (Final Cut) 35.50–36.15
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/71/93/8b/71938b2a32f55e28def9301b46774630.jpg)
similar moment and vibe :

No Country 18.50–18.56
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/86/77/4e/86774efa64ed3b2bd335f111574a4a38.jpg)

Sudden stark contrast from clamorousness to dreamy dawning.
Title: Elevation
Post by: Scrooby on August 23, 2022, 08:00:46 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/81/0f/1f/810f1fc19609173dfea6191d663f12cb.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/73/4b/f2/734bf23a117d449ff7d6f472cfdd98ec.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/74/c8/9b/74c89bad9662847eec58cb9d217e1d03.jpg)
" . . . to the elevator."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a0/c9/17/a0c917b0cd89ac80ef2d8f8bb90ac408.jpg)
". . . Scared."
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on August 25, 2022, 01:19:33 PM
No Country (29:45): "You can see the sipes real clear."

Ovid, Metamorphoses (Bk II.133) : "manifesta rotae vestigia cernes"
Title: perspective ever-evolving
Post by: Scrooby on August 30, 2022, 07:22:46 AM
Imagine, reader, the present subject of 'Fundamentals' as the shape of an arc printed in a mathematics textbook. The treatment of this theme, just here, will be located at the initial start of the arc, and nothing more than that.

Changing the metaphor : random fundamental particles of commentary herein ensue.

On Storytellers : No matter the degree of detail, whether it be a word in a text, or an element in a film frame, the storyteller will, during the duration of creation, have concern with that detail, to some degree or other.

Thus far so obvious. Now let's look at No Country.


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7a/22/f9/7a22f92a4a7081dc90d46a6b48b69c39.jpg)


Aggressors, armed with weaponry, have entered the vicinity of the protagonist.


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2d/4c/1f/2d4c1f819857d0178fc958664a3861d7.jpg)

The aggressors get off two rounds. Here is the first detail I am concerned with. At first glance, the two rounds are off-target : the protagonist successfully transits the space between the two vehicles, and arrives safely behind the vehicle up ahead.

In the 'actuality' of the film, however, the aggressors have precision marksmanship, as we will come to understand as the scene plays out.

What the audience at first may think about this moment (whether it be "okay, they missed", or, "okay, he dodged those bullets"), the audience has been engineered by the storyteller to think it.

The audience has been manipulated to interpret wrong. Like a magic trick. This is no small subject : the entire duration of No Country is intensely aware of the relationship between story/character and audience.

During the duration of a finely crafted narrative, the audience is sometimes ahead of the game, sometimes in alignment, and sometimes the audience is behind the game. The more artfully the storyteller manipulates this relationship reveals the 'first-rate' from the rest.

The reader here may ask, 'If the aggressors are precision marksmen, why don't they just waste the protagonist Moss?' Obviously : because if they kill him, he takes the location of the money with him. They must not then kill him with bullets, but only hobble him. So we can say that the bullets are not wildly shot, but precisely placed : the bullets are aimed for the legs, not the easiest element of a long-range moving target—hence they miss.

The reader may ask, 'Why conclude these aggressors are precision marksmen?' These two shots :


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9e/0f/43/9e0f431e5b19848291e872606023f253.jpg)


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f6/f8/5a/f6f85afb792c455244d99d526a05062c.jpg)

Takeaway : "ever-evolving perspective".

BONUS for the glorious ones : Interested in storytelling of your own? Contrast and Conflict. Good luck and best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on August 30, 2022, 01:52:17 PM
Stitching a film, not only sequencing it but threading secret craft in the fabric ~ I appreciated this last post! If I had a blu-ray player, I'd rip some higher quality grabs myself to complement the analysis. But best I can manage at the moment follows:

magnifying the detail/particlez

(https://cdni.fancaps.net/file/fancaps-movieimages/6681266.jpg)

(https://cdni.fancaps.net/file/fancaps-movieimages/6681281.jpg)

(https://cdni.fancaps.net/file/fancaps-movieimages/6681305.jpg)
Title: Woody Knox as "Day-Labourer"
Post by: Scrooby on September 03, 2022, 12:47:42 PM
ἔριθος = "day-labourer" (Iliad, XVIII, 551, 560)

Bonus
:

The Armour of Achilles (1)

Then the artist, his body hobbled at birth, a drab inheritance,
spoke out solemnly in answer, and said :

"Be eased, dear Thetis. Your wishes are no longer a worry.
If only I had power to turn him away from bitter death,
when sombre fate falls, just as the armour I shall provide him
with will be a marvel in the eyes of men, whoever it
may be who see it. Zeus may always have the final word, but
I will fight for you, dear Thetis, until the last day there is."

So saying, immortal artist-god Hephaestus left her there
with Charis, his darling wife, and went forward to his bellows.
These automata, twenty in all, obeyed the turn of his thoughts;
so now all twenty swivelled toward the fire, while he watched them,
standing with his colossal physique hard-by the dancing flames.

So all the bellows blew upon the crucibles, and their strong-
blowing breath came from all angles round, and in a variety
of strengths, so that the very fire itself was sculpted, like
all the exquisite hand-work to come, by the mind of the god;
and as he worked, now this one, now that, would breathe fiercer
and harder; and when he paused, all paused; so in every way
his bellows worked for him spontaneously without him turning
his head, so that his hand-work could come to completion at speed.
On the fire he put adamant bronze, and tin, and precious gold
and silver; then, with his massive arms, he lowered an anvil,
huge and heavy, onto the anvil-block. Then in the one hand
he took up an enormous hammer, and in the other he held
the fire-tongs.

First he hammered out a thick, round circumference of a shield,
embellishing it cunningly in every way; and every part
of the surface was covered over in brilliant adornment.
Round about the whole he fit a shining rim, triple-layered,
and bright enough to blind; then he fashioned and attached
to it a silver shield-strap. This shield was heavy, five layers
thick. And its surface was exquisite with carven adornment
from his artful, careful fingers.

Thereon he incised out the earth; thereon the heavens; thereon
the waves of the sea; and the indomitable sun, and the moon
at fullest round; then he touched the picture with the heavenly
stars, and the constellations that crown the heavens in serene
encirclement : the Pleiades, and the Hyades, and mighty
hunter Orion; and the Bear, that people down below also
call the Plough, and the Bent Plough, and the Big Dipper,
and the Great Wagon, and the Great Wheels and Carriage,
and many other names, all for these magical seven stars,
which ever-circle in place and watch hunter Orion, and
never sink into the waters of Oceanus, and leave us.

Thereon he carved two cities of men and women, beautiful
mortals, all. In the one, he arranged marriages and holiday
feasts; and, by the glow of blazing torch-light, they were bringing
the bride from her chamber through the city, awaking the loud
bridal song. Young men in the dance spun round, and among them
the lyres and pipes sang continuously; and each woman
stood in her doorway and smiled. But, not far away from this,
the people at the place of assembly were quarrelling :
two men were contending over the price paid for a dead man.
The killer declared he had repaid the debt in full, and spoke
out his cause to the people; but the other denied he had
received all that justice demanded. So both demanded
arbitration, and a fair decision of authority.
Meanwhile the people around them were shouting out, pleading
for one side or the other, and the officers held them back.
There, then, sat the elders, gathered upon the polished stones,
and, in a solemn circle, with staffs of office in their hands,
they deliberated on the dispositions of the people.
And a loud-voiced herald stood nearby, to deliver judgments
to the people, each contention in turn. And in the middle
of the circle lay two pieces of gold, for he who delivered
the most admired decision of wisdom.

But circling the other city were two armies of men
in glittering armour. Now the one army was debating
whether to obliterate the city and be done with it,
or to gather up all the property first, and divide it
out justly among the warriors, all the lovely treasures
gathered inside the city. But the city was having none
of this, and had armed themselves in secret, and planned to ambush
the enemy. Women and the little children stood on the
city wall, as a last defence, beside the men of old age;
but all the others had gone, led by  Ἄρης and Athena.
These gods herein were fashioned of gold, and over their figures
the artist had put golden garments of wondrous detail.
Beautiful and strong were the two gods in their armour, and stood
out from the rest, for all the people at their feet were smaller.
So when the company had come to the place that seemed perfect
to execute their ambush, a river-bank, which happened to serve
as watering-place for all sorts of herds, there the men sat down
in their flaming bronze. Then, hidden in the carving, were two spies,
sent by the army to scout out the flocks of sheep, and herds
of twist-horned cattle. And all these came, followed by herdsmen
playing on pipes. There were two of them, and suspected nothing.
 
Title: On Wealth in Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on September 04, 2022, 03:24:01 AM
The protagonist and his sister must come from a wealthy family, because there is no way in any universe that the fashion establishment, with such a small workforce, would generate much income after covering expenses. So we may conclude, if we wish, that the protagonist's fashion house is as the production company of Eyes Wide Shut : "Hobby Films".

The Armour of Achilles (2)

Now the state of things was the following : those men lying in wait
saw the herdsmen coming. Straightaway they intercepted them,
cutting them off from the herds of cattle and flocks of fair sheep;
then without much ado they killed the two of them. Meanwhile
the enemy army, gathered together at their speaking-place,
heard many groanings coming from those herds of cattle;
so straightaway some men swung onto their horses, and set out
on the way, and soon came to the full weight of their opponent.

Both sides, then, assembled into lines, and fought beside the banks
of a river, and cut each other down with bronze-pointed spears.
Chaos and Discord descended on unfurléd wings, and joined
the battle; with the Goddess of Death, a visitor of Fate
who swoops in, to carry away souls in her arms. Now she laid
hold onto one man alive but just wounded, on another
wholly unhurt, and on one more, a third, who was dead, and she
dragged all three by their heels through the tumult around them, leaving
track-marks with their heavy bodies, while the Goddess' robes
ran dark with the blood of men, all the way up to her shoulders.

And the careful artist placed soft, deep-soiled earth, rich, fertile
fallow-land, three-times turned up by the plough, there on the shield.
Thereon were many ploughmen driving their yokes this way and that,
up and back. And whenever they came to the limit-fence, they
spun round. Then a boy would run up with a cup of honey-sweet
wine; and the ploughmen would drain their cups to the lees,
then eagerly continue to turn the soil up to the next
limit. And the field grew dark under the plough—though, truly,
all of it was made of gold. This shading-work behind the moving
ploughs was a wondrous touch of the artist's hand.

Thereon he also incised out a king's royal domain, to
complement the common field of the community. There, day-
labourers were reaping, bearing the sharp sickle in their hands.
Handful after handful of grain were tumbling to the earth
in ordered lines, along the swathe they cut, while the binders
of the sheaves followed close behind, gathering up the riches
with plaited ropes of straw. Small boys would pick up all the handfuls,
then hand the armfuls to the trio of binders, over and over;
and this process went quickly. And, standing among them, the king,
his sceptre of authority in hand, watched the growing swathe
with joy in his heart. Nearby, his ministers were preparing
a feast under an oak tree, and were seasoning a great ox
felled in sacred sacrifice; and the women sprinkled white crushed
barley over all of it, for the labourers' afternoon meal.

Thereon he also placed a vineyard, its trailing vines weighed
down by heavy clusters of grapes, a beautiful golden spot.
The grapes were bunched dabs of black, while the vines hung on silver
poles, in a line surrounded by a trench elaborated
in a beautiful blue; and he put around that, as if hammered in,
a fence of green-tinged tin. One lone pathway led to this spot,
where the bearers of the grapes proceeded to and fro, when they
harvested the vintage. Maidens, light-hearted virginal girls,
skipped beside the youthful boys, as they carried the wickerwork
baskets abundant with honey-sweet fruit. Then among them came
a child with a many-stringed lyre voicing itself clearly,
and he moved his fingers along the parallel strings, singing
the song of Linos, a mythical minstrel from long ago.
To his charming voice, all together they stamped their feet,
and with cries of joy they followed on, and frisked in the dance.

Thereon he also carved in a herd of straight-hornéd cattle.
The cattle were made of gold and tin, beautifully composed;
and with their deep lowings they processed from cow-yard
to a grassy place of pasturage beside a rushing river,
its current joyfully rushing through swaying thickets of reeds.
Golden were the herdsmen, who marched in ranks together
with the cattle. There were four of them, and nine frisky dogs
came with them. Terrible, however, to look upon were two
lions at the front of the line of cattle, holding in their jaws
a loud-bellowing bull. The lions proceeded to drag the bull
away, and the dogs pursued with the young men. The lions'
teeth had pierced the wall of bull's hide, and were greedily gulping
up, and swallowing down, the innards, and the dark blood, while
the herdsmen set the dogs on them. But the dogs slunk back :
sometimes lurching forward to bite, then stopping themselves.
They kept away, though every lost bite stung them at heart.
All they did was bark and howl and keep back from the monsters.

Then the artist, his body hobbled at birth, a drab inheritance,
carved thereon a beautiful green place of pasturage, in a fair
place : and inside the farmyard were shining white sheep;
and huts, some open-aired, some covered over; and also pens.

Then the artist skilfully fashioned a dance-floor, recalling
the one that Daedalus in Cnosus had made for fair-haired
Ariadne, all those years ago. Youths were dancing; and girls,
their fathers rich in cattle, had joined themselves each to each,
with fingers dropped lightly upon the next one's wrist.
These ripe maidens wore fine linen garments, while the boys
wore tunics, well-spun and scented faintly of oil, which gives
clothing a shine. The girls wore wreaths upon their charming heads,
while the boys wore daggers dangling from silver belts.
Now, with knowing feet, they danced in place exceedingly well,
in a round; just as in the open palms of a potter,
sitting over his wheel, just then he makes test of equipment
and skill, and all runs well, as if with the talent of the gods.
Now again the lines of dancers would run to one another;
and a great crowd had gathered round the passionate dance to watch,
and took great pleasure in the sight : and two acrobats tumbled
this way and that, up and down, as authors of the dance's pace,
whirling in the centre of the bodies.

Then the artist placed atop the uttermost band of the rim,
that was layered in dense order round the well-composéd shield,
the mighty stream of strong Oceanus.

And when the shield, strong and dense, was done, then the artist made
the corslet with breastplate, both shining with the light of fire.
And the helmet, too, heavy and strong, and made to fit snugly
to the temples of its wearer's forehead (just that so skilfully
wrought), and marvellous to see, for it was beautifully
decorated with a terrifying crest of horse-hair, fixed
in a socket of gold; and he made the leg-armour to follow
the contours of the hero's long and mighty legs.

So when the immortal artist had completed his work,
all that shining armour, he limped with it back to the goddess
Thetis, mother of Achilles. So she soared down from the white
peaks of Olympus, and raised up all that glittering treasure,
and carried off the beautiful art from the house of Hephaestus.


End of Book XVIII
Title: The Feet of Anton
Post by: Scrooby on September 05, 2022, 12:27:35 AM
Anton : "It will be brought to me and placed at my feet."

This phrase is very common in Homer. Such as :

"θεὰ κατὰ τεύχε᾽ ἔθηκε πρόσθεν Ἀχιλλῆος" (Iliad, XIX, 12–3)

[goddess] - [down] - [armour] - [to place] - [in front of; i.e., at the feet] - [Achilles].
Title: Mirror : Face : Door : Window
Post by: Scrooby on September 05, 2022, 04:47:06 AM
Imagine this image as a Renaissance painting, in which each element is symbolic, by virtue of being in the frame.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/35/f5/34/35f534b3c06bc74959d9dff6cf90f98c.jpg)

A mirror : a face : a door : a window.

What happens if a person begins to think about all that?

Every shot in a first-rate film is its own canvas. All depends on the concentration devoted to the process.

Best wishes.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on September 16, 2022, 06:09:41 AM
Domino, doomed youth financing university as prostitute, in EWS : "I'd rather not put it into words."

Oedipus, whose every move he could ever make was wrong from the start, regardless of his great-hearted efforts, in the first lines of Seneca's play : "eloqui fatum, pudet." (19)
Title: The Dude by Sophocles
Post by: Scrooby on September 20, 2022, 04:11:09 PM
Brandt to The Dude : "Her life is in your hands."

Oedipus to Tiresias : " ἐν σοὶ γὰρ ἐσμέν " (Sophocles, 314)

      reply:

The Dude : "Oh, man, don't say that . . ."

Tiresias : " φεῦ φεῦ, φρονεῖν ὡς δεινὸν ἔνθα μὴ τέλη λύῃ φρονοῦντι " (316–7)

[ Tiresias : "Damn, man, why must I know what I don't want to know?" ]
Title: Alma pouring afar
Post by: Scrooby on September 24, 2022, 03:30:57 AM
Alma's habit of pouring from afar?

Recall the accord between the dense drawing on New Year's Eve and "All Work and No Play Makes Jack a Dull Boy" : the artist's racing, associative mind is always heated to nuclear.

Alma's pouring of the water, however, is : slow. One must do this slowly, or one spills, or burns. One must concentrate on the one thing.

So, to do this with precision, one must play it cool.

(Too cool, though, might end with icicled Jack.)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: HACKANUT on September 25, 2022, 07:42:46 AM
Quote from: Scrooby on September 24, 2022, 03:30:57 AMAlma's pouring of the water, however, is : slow. One must do this slowly, or one spills, or burns. One must concentrate on the one thing.

So, to do this with precision, one must play it cool.


Anton's "one right tool".
Title: The one right tool.
Post by: Scrooby on September 28, 2022, 05:55:59 AM
ὄρσεο κυλλοπόδιον ἐμὸν τέκος: ἄντα σέθεν γὰρ
Ξάνθον δινήεντα μάχῃ ἠΐσκομεν εἶναι:

(Iliad, XXI, 331–332)

ἠΐσκομεν = "the one right tool"
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on October 14, 2022, 01:44:06 AM
ἀμφήριστος : "the issue is not certain."

Iliad, XXIII, 382.

The chariot race!
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on October 15, 2022, 07:36:47 AM
μύθοις λαβρεύεαι : "big talk"

Iliad, XXIII, 478.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on October 18, 2022, 10:42:54 AM
Note the conjunction of the fine antique wood with the profile of the Mysterious Woman.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/76/d8/14/76d8147d6412e77e98bf55d8cddb7c53.jpg)

After Somerton, the Mysterious Woman is the fundamental item on Dr. Bill's mind. Hence, the wood filling the frame.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b2/f5/c1/b2f5c10486ada83acdb86be061f0cc9a.jpg)

See the wood grain in shot 2? Notice the horizontal bars here (just after the scene above).

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bb/d6/6a/bbd66a151c0ef2ec103b2252702beba6.jpg)

Then here (just after the scene above).

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0e/2e/97/0e2e972524adf941a77b77994f9126ed.jpg)

Then vertical bars (just after the scene above).

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/57/04/19/5704195594b12221ca2683512bf4d1e5.jpg)

Mutations. Resonances. Making Connections. Art.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on October 24, 2022, 07:16:36 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/90/cf/c8/90cfc807922b2af66bdc8285c5f904bf.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5f/07/90/5f07903ab225e57b7c1d21efcc4bc781.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e4/02/1a/e4021a205d22a903801ab3e0fbe12480.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1f/b7/43/1fb7433631f3a6b23dfba8217f8a640f.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/68/0f/e7/680fe756d3bff8c1a8b16276972dddde.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e2/81/a3/e281a3341c4dc6d0c839dc40c2ac5937.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f6/03/e2/f603e231dda6bd7193a2010acda49e5a.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/30/0b/e7/300be73d8459802ddd51532ab6e0b6e3.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8e/76/ae/8e76ae8e83e3855ac8aae617cf9d043a.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/56/6e/ae/566eae1f234524938b7a710e93bcb435.jpg)

Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on October 25, 2022, 09:03:59 AM
 " ( θεοὶ ) εἰσορόωντες "

(The gods) : "We'll look into it."

Iliad, XXIV, 23.
Title: Full Metal Homer
Post by: Scrooby on October 27, 2022, 02:21:38 AM
Full Metal Jacket :

Hartman : "Disappear, scumbag!"

King Priam : "Disappear, wretch!"

" ἔρρετε , λωβητῆρες ! "

Iliad, XXIV.239.
Title: Homer, Iliad, Book 24 (Part 1 of 2) (Nowhere else online)
Post by: Scrooby on October 30, 2022, 02:12:49 AM
Book XXIV

Thus the funeral games ended. And the people scattered back
to their tents, each man to his own precious ship, as at seedtime
the air delapses with pollen. They thought of supper and sleep
as light processed from sky, obeying the departure of the sun.
The season of the Trojan War was a-coming to an end,
though no-one down below on miserable earth yet knew it.
No one but Achilles, who knew not what, but resurrecting
his beloved in his head kept him tossing and turning this way
and that all the nights long in bed. He did not know how many
nights long he lay in bed, longing for the noble Patroclus,
loving with deep regret his goodness and courage and power
and manhood. The earth had taken away the good and the brave.
All-taming sleep unable to subdue him, he'd think of all
the odyssey of hassle they experienced together,
the many outrageously accomplished triumphs,
as they fought their way through men's wars and the omnifical waves.
Achilles thought with yearning on all this, turning himself from
one side to the other under the stars. When he considered
the hard way Patroclus had taken, and of himself as well,
everything revolving in his mind like a whirling Xanthus,
then tears dropped from his eyes and drowned his heart,
as he tossed and turned this way and that all the nights long in bed.
He lay even full on his face, frantic with pain, sounding out.
How could he put a limit on a loss of one so beloved?
So then he would get to his feet and go his solitary
way to the shore by the massive wavering sea,
in the darkest hour of night, as rest wearied him; alone,
untouched, fretted with grief all over, possessed of Patroclus
caught in pale immortal death, he wandered the lonely shore,
the sea acceding glistening up the sand, then retracting
back into the wild unconfined. Where his mother was,
who had not told him the truth of things, though she knew how things were.
Though Dawn came gliscent over the sea and the sands, revealing
herself fully to him, to give her light, he didn't notice.
With heart infracted he'd put his horses to, no matter the time,
and tether the body of Hector to the back of his car,
to drag him : and quickly galloping in circles three times round
the tomb of Patroclus Achilles dragged Hector, face downward,
so that he might scrape away every last bit of flesh from the bones.
Then, having brought new tears to Hector, Achilles would leave off,
and return to his tent, and let the body lie where it was,
lying low outstretched in the dust, face downwards.

So in this way ferocious Achilles disfigured the corpse
of δῖος Hector; and elsewhere and everywhere the gods,
convened in their open space, looked down on this maltreatment,
and the happy gods actually pitied the fallen Trojan hero.
So they encouraged sharp-sighted Hermes, slayer of hundred-
eyed Argus, to steal the corpse out from under crazy Achilles.
This plan the gods found agreeable, but for the faction of
Hera and Poseidon and the gleaming-eyed girl. The women
in this triumvirate persisted in antagonism
because of some distant indiscretion that goddesses never
forget. Back at the first they had come to Priam,
to stop the war before it began. The war was an answer
to the sinful idiocy of Alexandros, but each
action has more than one answer to it; hence the goddesses down
inside the lofty palace of Priam. Now the story is
fuzzy here, but it was possible Priam humiliated them
by showing favour to the cataclysmic Helen, and blaming
them, actually blaming Hera and Athena, for Helen's
rebellious behaviour. The goddesses left Troy wondering
why a man would choose a whore over a goddess.
Up in the heavenly bodies they nurtured their animosity
even to this day. And so explains the faction of the gods
against Priam and Troy. As for Poseidon, they let him follow
his impulses, which offered others occasions for laughter.

Then Hera spoke to Hermes :

"You who spread your tricky arts from heaven down to Hades,
shall you not find it funny to confuse the rage of Achilles?"

And Hermes was up for it. But such disputes in Heaven durate
for ages. So Dawn suffered coming for the twelfth time without
Achilles noticing her body of light, before Healer Apollo
responded, saying :

"Ah, loving stepmother, sweet rose of virtue and gentleness,
richest of us all in abundance in charm, but also in mercilessness!
You goddesses are wicked workers. What has Hector ever
done to you—but give you the best pieces of spotless sacrifices?
You'd save him now, and have his wife look onto him now? Cruel
sight for her to see, too cruel for mortals to endure. Only now,
after you got him dead, you want to celebrate his honour
with a monument over his bones, and the due obsequies
for heroes, with Priam, Hecuba, and the people
mourning in solemnity. No, this is too perverse to keep putting
into words! Meanwhile, you celebrate crazy Achilles,
who seems lacking in a single sensible thought in his head!
Worse, he's adamant against deserting his erroneous ways.
He's simply evil, a death-fated mortal with a mind crazy
and stubborn, a mad dog without sense of measure in his heart.
This man, whom the swarming Achaeans hail as their hero,
drags a dead body behind him from the back of a chariot!
The man actually bends down and fastens the corpse tight, with care.
What good can come from a man like that? And why encourage him?
I say he should start fearing our displeasure at his actions,
which have nothing good or pretty about them. What obtusion!
Continuously he drags behind him a bundle of senseless dust!
This is the mortal man you want all of us to get behind?"

Such words incensed Queen Hera to great anger, and she replied :

"So you say, Apollo, but your words aren't nearly as accurate
as your famous silver bow. If you would be so solicitous
with the dead Hector, why not allow one and and same respect
to the living Achilles? Hector is all mortal (as far back
as I can remember), while the mother of Achilles
is a goddess! And if mortals please you so well, his father
was a mere man, too. You, whose fingertips strum the curvaque
lyre, speak such rubbish sometimes! All this talk of Achilles
you should know, Apollo Seer, since you attended his father's wedding!
You sat there at the feast, that lyre in your hands! Obviously,
then, you're a friend to wickedness (ah, wicked Achilles!)
and not to be trusted."

And at this, Apollo replied that he had no memory
of any mortal's wedding, and refused to speak any more.

Gleaming-eyed Athena then spoke out, saying :

"Apollo, I will recall it all to you; and with these words
you may come to understand Achilles a little better.

Our Queen Hera's fondness with Achilles began when Zeus Father
restrained (for once) his passion for the mother, thereby granting
disgnissima Hera a victory. At first, his warmth outran his reason,
until he overheard (for Father hears all) a prophecy
delivered to Thetis from the shifty Old Man of the Sea.
He told her : 'You shall bring forth a child stronger than the father.'
When Zeus heard this, hot though the fires of love were burning in him,
he demurred from further interaction with Thetis, famous
for her free-spirited nakedness as her common, so-to-speak,
day- and night-wear. But for reasons only our father knows of,
he put the goddess into the hands of his son Aeacides,
and advised him to allow heaven's own grandson, Peleus,
to take his chances with the curvaceous aqueous goddess.

Now sparkling Haemonia-on-the-sea, its shoreline curved
outward like a bow, was an accustomed place to find Thetis,
for there was a cave there, obscured in a grove of olive trees,
where she was wont to rest. So Thetis came, astride her bridled
dolphin in all her shapely nakedness, when out jumped the bold
Peleus, who wrestled with her, at first playfully, then more
and more strenuously as Thetis resisted the mere man's
advances. Inside her cave, its curvature glowing with green algae,
she shape-shifted to a bird, but Peleus held firm to the feathers;
then stood stolid as a tree, but Peleus held her fast in his arms;
then, third, she came as a dappled tigress. It was at that point
that Peleus quit and fled. But her beauty was such that he
sought out a soothsayer, who gave him subtly-snaring cords,
which, he promised, would hold tenaciously anything they gripped.
He also gave advice : 'O sir,' he said, 'though she may imitate
through a hundred feigned forms and figures while caught on the bed,
keep hold, for finally she will metamorphose back to herself.'

So he returned to the cave in the olive grove by the sea,
and the beautiful goddess was asleep when he tied her up;
then he meant to have his way with her. And Thetis imitated
a hundred forms in his arms, but he held on; and finally
she stopped, and said : 'Curious as this sounds, you being here
on me was meant to be, for only a god would allow this.'
And so Thetis then meant to wrap her arms around Peleus
and yield to love, only to notice her arms and legs were still
spread out and fastened by the magical bonds. And Thetis said :
'Darling, don't untie them.' That's the story of the conception
of Achilles."

Thus spoke Athena.

Then came the orderer of all things, Zeus. Nothing did he dread,
but was ever dreaded. He answered his gleaming-eyed daughter,
and his wife, and all of them in Heaven, saying :

"My Immortals, here and now, cease this divisiveness! I will
decide : The respect we show to each man shall not be equal.
Hector was as decent as a man can be down there in Troy.
He knew right from wrong in his heart, and not from rote.
And he often sent out wondrous fragrances from the flames
of his altar, up to all that is ours, as appointed by
Destiny. His devotion I'll remember with affection.
But as for stealing any dead bodies, no, this will not do.
I, though, have an idea, that shall be followed to the letter.
Perhaps someone shall summon goddess Thetis here to my side,
so I may speak some words of wisdom into her ear, namely
that Achilles acquiesce, and accept gifts from King Priam,
and give the body back."

Thus Zeus; so air-crossing Iris goddess sprung to it, and sped
away down to earth, bearing a message from the Orderer.
And somewhere in the sea between island Samos and rocky
Imbros, with Helicon shining in the distance, goddess Iris,
dewy with living hues, dived down into the immersive dark
of the sea, and the waters roared over her, sealing her in.
She sank as fast as a pillar of light implants the sea, or
as a lead sinker, joined with an ox-horn, plummets at speed,
bringing treacherous death to the gullible and the baited. 
Indeed, Iris brought quick destruction to all fishes and sea-
monsters who came too close with their sharp teeth bared.
So she came to a luminous cave where many naked nymphs
of the sea were assembled together, consoling Thetis
in their midst, for the mother shed many a tear for her son. 
Of his destiny there in Troy, she knew, but had no answer.
The wonder Thetis felt was something she never felt before.

And wind-swift Iris, among the glowworms and weedy algae,
came close, and spoke to her, saying :

"Up! Up, Thetis! Zeus Ineluctable summons you to him!"

Then the goddess, low in variegations of silvery
foam, spoke out through her weeping, to reply :

"What does he want from me now? To see the shame of all my griefs
up close and plain on my face? And to be seen among them now,
considering what my son is doing—no, that's not a pleasant
invitation. Yet I must go. What can one do, when the God
has spoken His word?"

Thus Thetis. So, to match her mood, she wrapped her shapely body
in one long wind of dark linen, and straightened a dark veil
over her wondrous face, then hastened to go, following
swift, wind-walking Iris on the way. And the sea, drawn onward
and back, according to the hour, now withdrew down themselves
while they streamed up the depths of the sea and came to the sands
of the shore. Then they shot straight up into the open space of heaven.
There, they entered the presence of all those who shall live forever.

So while the gods were enjoying forever, Zeus Father
spirited Thetis away (under Hera's watchful notice)
to a private spot of space. And he sat beside the grieving
goddess, and offered her a golden cup of ambrosia,
delivering subtle lines of sympathy while she drank;
then she returned the cup to her long-ago would-be lover
Zeus, foremost of gods and men in all things, who looked into her
eyes with heart-breaking sympathy. He sidled ever closer
to the tender, shapely goddess; and her grief made her sorrow
sadder, and it grieved him sore to see her weep. Then he began
to speak, using words courteous, mild, meek, and well-devised :

"Be still, my darling, rest awhile; and when we're done, perhaps
sweetly smile? Sweet Thetis, I know full well why you sit this way
on Olympus. I, too, grieve terribly for your Achilles.
And though your grief may be comfortless, perhaps I can comfort
you in some manner? Do you hear these words I whisper? I know
your heart (which is why you are here). All this trouble down below
has brought itself up into heaven. For a barely endurable
duration of time the Immortals have set to quarrelling
on a subject touching the body of the other, and on
your Achilles, heroic wrecker of cities. The others
would snatch that abominable body from your Achilles,
and encourage Hermes to bring off their pleasure.
My affection, though, sweet Thetis (and you may come
closer), is with Achilles. And I treasure the affection
and the love that you and I feel for one another! Deeply
I do, my enchanting fresh-faced goddess, scented of the sea.
So hear now what I can do for you. Straightaway go down (but
not yet) to the Argive army, and deliver to your son
the following helpful aid. Explain to the hero, the wrecker
of cities, that all the other gods are aroused in their hearts
with anger at his passion, and would have him punished, but Zeus,
however, has a care to make things straight for all parties concerned;
and suggest in your way to the wrecker of cities that he
return the body to its rightful place. With this Word, we shall see
if he fears me. And goddess Iris I will send to Priam,
to seek release of the body by bearing an endowment
of gifts to Achilles, which may bring your son satisfaction."

Thus spoke Zeus, king of men and gods.

And goddess Thetis sped like fleeting years down from the summit
of gods to the battlefield, and to the tent of her son. Inside,
he sat sighing in a desolate air, and his friends were quiet
around him as they briskly prepared their breakfast.

His mother sank ladylike down by his side, and took his hand,
and called him by his name, and said :

"Child, how long will you weep this way? How long will your soul
stay troubled? You think neither of food nor of sleep. And no woman
lies by your side. Achilles, I'm sorry I did not tell you
all I knew of fate invulnerable. I thought it for the best."

And Achilles spoke out, as if he hadn't heard her, saying :

"Ah, God. If my love were in my arms, and I in bed again.
Could you do this for me, Zeus, if you wanted to? But you won't.
Piety is powerless against death, isn't that as it is?"

And his mother answered him :

"Listen now to what I say to you. I come with a message.
The gods you're now scorning are already in a state of hate
for you, and Zeus himself is, shall we say, taking an interest.
Come now! It will be best for everyone if you quit your rage,
and stop all this with Hector by the ships. Give the body back.
Hear me. Son! Give the body back, and accept some recompense."

And Achilles answered :

"Okay."

Thus, in this way, mother and son spoke together by the ships.

Meantime, Time itself brought Iris Wind-Walker to sacred Troy,
for Zeus had a plan :

"Up!" he said, "Up, Iris! Go from the open space of Olympus
down to strong-standing Troy himself, Priam, and enlighten him
that the better way to proceed from the present is to give
gifts to Achilles, if Priam and Troy would have Hector back.
Let him go, if he determines that his gifts are such that will
mollify the heart of Achilles. And he will go alone.
No Trojan shall walk beside him. But I have no care if he
chooses a helper, an older man, to work the wagon, and
steer the mules, so that the bodies of the dead may be brought
back to the city, all those men killed by δῖος Achilles.
We shall have Hermes, who knows all the ways, accompany him,
till Priam is brought near to the mighty presence of Achilles.
And when the old man is led into the tent of Achilles,
and the two men look into each other's faces, let us see
how much wisdom may be inside our beloved δῖος Achilles.
If I am correct, dear Iris, the boy is not senseless, not
aimless, and not wicked. I say he will spare old King Priam."

This was the word of Zeus. So Iris rode in with the storm clouds
to Troy, to bring the Word of God to the old man. She entered
the palace and heard all its halls echoing with wailing,
men and women weeping, and their mingled outcry was chilling
to hear. She wandered down to the outdoor courtyard, where the sons
sat round their father, all with heads bowed, and tears dropping to earth.
Priam sat in the centre wrapped up in clothing made filthy
by all his rolling and writhing in the dust. And now he sat
spent, with a handful of dust in his lap, and his eyes fixed some-
where. And coming from the house all round him were the wailings
of women : his daughters and his sons' wives mourning the good men
gone down under the earth, destroyed by the hands of the Argives.

And then it was night, and Priam sat where he was, even there
under the stars, in his filthy garments. His sons, too, were there,
but they lay asleep variously round him; and he, too, slept.
It was then that Iris goddess stepped to the king, and whispered
into his ear, and as she spoke, a trembling took hold of him,
for she delivered the message, and a part of him expected
an ill welcome from the Achaean warriors.

"Courage, Priam!" said Iris, who entered his mind as ever-
reshaping colours, then disappeared; and the old man awoke
with a grim foreboding in his heart. Still and all, King Priam
followed his night-thoughts, and requested of his sons to prepare
the four-wheeled wagon and the mules that pulled it, and specified
that the wicker basket be placed on the bed of the wagon.

Then old man Priam led Hecuba his wife down under the
palace to the storeroom of treasures, a private spot with wide-
arched ceiling and air scented with cedar, where much jewellery
was kept. And he spoke to his wife, the Queen, and said :

"Good lady, my sleep brought me a Word from the gods. I'm to go
now to claim the body of our great son, in the hope that I
may mollify the murderer's heart with gifts. What do you think?
The idea to me is exceeding strange, but my heart commands
me to cross the plain and enter into the camp of the Achaeans."

And Hecuba cried out when she heard this, and answered him with :

"Disaster. What of that man whom men in places all over
speak of as a master of masters? And what of the people
you rule? It will be said you chose to go on your own, to see
with your own eyes the man who has stripped you of so many sons,
strong and courageous sons. Your sleep has shaped your heart into stone!
If you catch his eyesight, he'll kill you. He won't show you pity.
He is a cruel and wicked man. We might almost say a beast
of prey. This faithless man will show you no mercy.

Let's you and I leave everything for all the others to work.
You and I must mourn, as we can, here in the house,
far from our son. That was Destiny's work, who laid out the thread
of his life when he came from inside me. How can we know why
Destiny would leave him to the dogs? I would bury my teeth
in that man, if chance allowed for it. I would feed as the dogs
feed till not one particle was left. Then my revenge were done.
For our son fell with honour, standing firm, defending our Troy,
protecting the women and the men. He stood firmly in place,
mindful only of protection, with not a thought of escape."

And her husband answered her :

"I cannot be held back, so please allow yourself to trust me.
Please no twittering like a caught bird of omen in our halls.
I seem to have no choice, and that is how it will be. I wasn't
made to believe from the words of a priest, or the visions
of a seer. I saw the goddess myself, and heard her voice.
So I will go. For how will we fare if we leave her word undone?
If my fate is to be cut down by those damned Achaean ships,
then that is what it will be. Achilles himself can have me,
if only after I have one last embrace of my son."

Thus was the word of Priam, the king of long-enduring Troy.

And then he went among his cherished treasures, lifting the lid
of one chest after another, and gathered together twelve
garments exceptionally beautiful in hand-work, each weighted
with personal meaning to the king. These elaborate robes
he placed, still squarely folded, in a pile beside the chests;
and all this before him expressed memories of his lifetime
with his wife, and his family, and his people, and his city.
The selection of the gifts followed an uncommunicated
sense in his heart, for better or worse, rather than following
his reason, and choice. So, alongside the splendiferous robes
he lay twelve simple cloaks; and twelve coverlets, which could be laid
over thrones, to warm them, adding comfort. And twelve tunics were
placed atop the cloaks. Carefully, then, he weighed out ten measures
of gold. And to the glittering gifts he added two delicate
pitchers; and four very beautiful cauldrons, looking a-blaze
with light; and also a cup, that the men of Thrace had given him,
when he had gone there on an embassy : a great item to the king.
There was nothing in his Halls that the king would not have added
to the gifts, for his one thought now was to reclaim the body
of his son.

Then he came out to the light of the sun, and stood in his court,
and saw Trojan men standing everywhere, and the king attacked
them with abusive words, saying :

"Disappear, all you shameful spectators! What do you see here
that appeals to you so much? Would you rather no one lead you?
Haven't you enough grief of your own to suffer in your own homes?
Yet you come here to see every step I take. A light matter,
you think, that one should lose the best of oneself? Because of the
decision of our god? A light matter, that the best of you, too,
is gone? He who saved many a person standing here? How much
easier do you think it will be for Achilles to strike you down
now? This is the word of your king you hear, what you deserve
to hear, and to have : I hope I step into Hades with my back
to the fall and slaughter of Troy."

Thus Priam. Holding his staff of office he stepped toward the men.
In reply the men scattered busily out of the courtyard
and away from the palace of Troy. Then the king summoned
his sons, who gathered by him : Helenus τε Alexandros
τ᾽ Agathon τε Pammon τ᾽ Antiphonus τε Polites,
τε Deiphobus τε καὶ Hippothous καὶ goodly Dius.

The old man spoke to these nine men, and gave command :

"Get going, all of you failures! I have you all at the price
of Hector. Ah, God. I am utterly ill-fated in all ways,
yet never knew it—till now. I brought the best sons into Troy,
into great Troy, and not one is left behind. Mestor, Troilus,
Hector—he who seemed the son of no man but of a god—
 Ἄρης has destroyed them all. Who survives now are the weak ones,
the cowards, those worthy of disgust : fake men, great at the dance.
You have no care but to ruin all that is best of your city
to satisfy your own sorry selves. You rob the kids from your
own people! Common robbers of lambs! You harm the prosperity
of your many Trojans for your own low selves? It's atrocious
to think on any further. Quickly now, use your feet, prepare
a wagon, and put in it all the treasures piled in our storeroom."

Thus was the word of the king. So, for a time, all of these men
worked in harmony together, and created a fine sight to see.
As they worked, they also remembered, with terror, their father's
threatening tone, which contributed to their exacting care.

They brought out a four-wheeléd wagon meant to be mule-drawn.
It was a handsome piece, newmade. The wicker basket was put
inside. Then they took down the yoke for the mules. Of box-wood
was the yoke made, and fitted with rings to receive all the reins
prevailed to guide the mules. This yoke they tied to the pole
of the wagon—polished, smoothed, glazy—with a securely-stitched
yoke-band nine ancient cubits long. They wound the band three times round
till it was tight, then took in the slack with a knot underneath.
Now the yoke for the mules was tied to the pole of the wagon.

Then up from the underground storeroom came the many treasures,
too valuable to quantify, meant as ransom for the body of Hector;
and the brothers placed everything into the well-polished wagon.
Then they yoked the strong-hoofed mules, serene-working in harness,
which long ago the Mysians, famed for their wondrous animals,
had given to the king for his own private use, a kind gift.

And Hecuba stepped up to her husband, sorrowing at heart.
She held out in her right hand a golden cup of honey-sweet
wine, so that he might pour to the gods before his departure.
So she stood by the animals, and voiced an out-of-the-ordinary
question to her husband :

"Come! Come and pour for Father Zeus, and pray
to return home from there, from those hateful creatures,
those demons. All this work is strange to me, yet resolutely
you continue, so I shall say no more but pray to the God
of Time, the son of Cronos, the manipulator of clouds
from Ida's peak. From there he sees all of us down on the plain;
pray to him. Ask him for a sign; let us see what he shows us.
Let his bird of omen come to us, the bird of prey, his strength
coming up on the right hand, and by that you shall know safety
along your passage to the ships of the extreme Achaeans.
But if the god who hears and knows everything decides to show
us nothing auspicious, then I call on you to turn around,
and even in your eagerness to go forth to the Argives,
do not go."

Then Priam, king of Troy, answered his wife, saying :

"My good wife, you ask me to bend the knee to the god who took
everything from us, and will keep doing so, until we're no more.
Why things are as they are does not bear looking into closely,
for fear of what might we discover of ourselves in our hearts.
Yet, perhaps we might receive everything that happens to us
as a testing, which demands us to face suffering with strength,
or live with the consequences of what we've chosen to be—
weak. If we allow life to beat us down to nothing, what were we
worth in the first place? Through suffering we come to know what we are.
Along no other path do we come to Truth. Like it or not : as the gods will it.

So I shall obey you. I will lift up my face to the one
who took everything, Zeus, and pray for him to show us mercy."

Thus spoke Priam. He requested of his housekeeper to pour
water over his hands. So she came with the pure, clear water,
and stood by him with pitcher and silver basin in her hands.
And the basin was carven all round with imagery of Troy,
memories of the duration of its glorious history.

And so she poured the water and he washed his hands.
Then Hecuba his wife poured the wine-offering on the earth.

Wife and husband then took hands, and knelt, and looked up to the sky,
and the man began to pray aloud for all of them, saying :

"Origin and orderer of all things past, present, and to come,
who looks down on us, who sternly keeps us in our place,
whether we remember you or not—and it is Sin to forget you,
you whose power makes a toy of ours;—To you I pray we come
to Achilles unharmed. And, inside his tent, we are welcomed,
and respected in our low position. If you hear me now,
Zeus, bring confidence to our way, show us all is not lost, yet;
may the sky bring us the bird of omen, your beloved bird
of the infinite air, the mighty bird of prey with outstretched
wings and great strength, rising in the east, and I see, with my
eyes, that my way forward will be the beginning of my return.
I will survive the galloping tread of the strong Achaeans."

Thus was the prayer of the husband, knelt beside Hecuba,
in the open-air court, bound within colonnades of pillars.

And Zeus Counsellor heard, and an eagle came up clear and sure
with fully-outstretched wings : dark hunter whom men call Black Eagle.
Its wings stretched as wide as the door of a storeroom, the hand-work
well-confining, with the strong bolts barring the treasures inside;
just so wide were the open wings of the eagle rising on
the right. And the whole city saw, and all the hearts were softened.

Then, briskly, with single-minded purpose, the old man stepped from
the court, and walked beside the wagon to the palace front gates,
and the front gates blazed in the sun, they glowed like stargates,
and they went through, out onto the plain, Idaeus his helper
managing the stride of the animals. Priam urged himself on,
his mind like a whip that spurs the fast horses, from the city,
and walked forward toward the plain. Behind him, back in the city
walls, the women wailed with ululations, thinking himself
walking to his death. But when he reached the plain, his sons left him,
and all the wives, and turned back, to re-enter Troy.

Zeus, who is everywhere, saw the old man, and would show mercy;
so, while Priam walked on the plain, Zeus faced his beloved
son Hermes and spoke, saying :

"Hermes! Guide of the Blessed, it pleases you to associate
with men as well. Go, then! Go bring Priam to the Achaean ships.
You lead men down all pathways, including the last way forward.
Use your wiles to contrive a way for Priam to reach Achilles."

Thus Zeus. And Hermes eagerly obeyed. The runner fitted
to his feet his golden ambrosial sandals, which lifted him
along the waves of the sea, and over vast distances of earth,
quick as the breezes of the wind. And with him he brought his wand
of sorcery that lowers some eyelids to sleep, or rouses
others awake. Holding the ῥάβδος indescribable in words,
he came to the mouth of the mighty Hellespont, where the ships
stood arrayed in a black square on the sandy shore at land's edge.

So came to Priam the splendid, luck-bringing god, the giver
of good things : a child at heart, with the extent of a child's
guile, even when deceiving—such as now. For just now,
having passed the ancient tomb of Ilos, its stone discoloured
and crumbling, Priam had halted, and the mules drank from the river.
By now darkness had come down to earth. And Idaeus leaned close
to Priam, and said :

"My king, look there. We must consider things, and act with caution.
I see a man, a young man who looks well in my eyes, handsome
and secure; there is a radiance about him that makes him
easier to see in the dark;—he may be about to kill us."

And old man Priam watched as Hermes walked up to him, and all
the hair on his arms stood on end, and he stood up onto his
weak limbs and waited. And the god stood by him, and took his hand,
and spoke to the old man, saying :

"Why, father, are you up so late in the dark, when all people
else through the infinite night are asleep? Have you no fear
of the Achaean strength coming in on the breezes here?
You know there are monstrous enemies—strange, implacable—
hard-by here, don't you? If a single man of them came here
and saw this pile of wealth utterly hidden in the darkness,
do you think your words, or your hopes, would help you then?
You have no youth about your body, and your friend here is older
still; so how are you to stop a man from working his will
on you, come what may? I'm to be trusted, though. You are lucky
you met me. Not only will I not hurt you, I will defend you
against whomever other. For you remind me of my own dear father."

Then old man Priam answered him :

"Is it as you say, dear child? Perhaps the god holds his hand
over me now, since I meet such a traveller as yourself,
here in this dangerous place. An auspicious sign,
and so admirable in look and stature. And wise at heart,
besides. Your parents much be very fortunate. Blessed ones."

And tricky Hermes replied to him :

"Indeed you speak rightly in all things, old sir. But come, tell me,
truly now, are you off for a foreign land, and taking all
that is yours, in the hope of keeping yourself safe and sound there?
Are you turning your back on sacred Troy in fear?
For the best man there is now dead, your son.
He never stopped fighting the Achaeans."

And Priam answered him :

"Who are you? Which great family is yours,
that you speak so well of my son?"

And tricky Hermes replied to him :

"You would have me answer that? That would be
some doing. I have seen your son, δῖος  Ἕκτορα ,
with my own eyes, many times, fighting man-to-man
in war, in war that wins men glory, many times,
pushing the enemy back to their ships in a rage,
splitting Argives down the middle with the sharp bronze.
All we could do was stand and look on with wonder.
For Achilles would not allow us to fight, on account of
his anger for son of Atreus Agamemnon. I am one
of his warriors, and I came here to Troy on the same ship.
I'm a Myrmidon. Polyctor, a wealthy man, and as old
as you are, is the name of my father. He has six sons, and
I'm the seventh. Of all my brothers, it was my luck with the
pebbles to come here. Now here I am on the plain by the ships.
At dawn, you should know, the Achaeans are preparing to go
encircle the city, and make war with accustomed rapacity.
Sitting idle has become too much work for the lot of them,
and the leaders can no longer hold the men back from battle."

And Priam answered him :

"If it is as you say, that you are one of Achilles' men,
come then! I ask you to tell me plainly. Is my son still by
the ships? Or has he been cut into pieces by Achilles,
and all the parts thrown to the dogs?"

And tricky Hermes replied to him :

"Old sir, neither dog nor bird has yet feasted on the body,
though it lies by the black ship of Achilles, where all our tents
have been from the first. Twelve days now your son has lain
where he is, yet his skin shines with a freshness that startles one
who looks on it. All the other men believe the body should
be rotten by now. No squalid worms are able to nibble
into his flesh, such as flourish in the dead on a battlefield.
If you want the absolute truth, Achilles drags the body
around in a circle, tethered to the back of his chariot,
round and round the tomb of his dead friend, always at the first light
of dawn. But if you see the body now, good sir, you'll see it
fair as it ever was, and marvel. He lies as fresh as the dew
that gathers on him in the mornings. There is no blood, there are
no wounds.—Though many bronze spears passed through his body.
In this way the gods on high protect your son (though waited till
he was dead to do this). Yet, for all that, your son pleased the gods,
when alive."

Thus Hermes, and the old man nodded, then replied, saying :

"Child, take this cup. You see its fine workmanship, its value.
It's yours. Protect me on the way to the tent of Achilles."

And Hermes answered him :

"Good sir, you endeavour to test my faith, as I am a much
younger man than you, and you wish to know my character at heart.
You cannot persuade me through gifts or through any other way,
without Achilles coming to know of it. I fear the man,
and look on with wonder at the man, and would die for the man.
So I will do no little thing that might be called betrayal.
But I will bring you to the man, if that's what you want. I will
bring you to Achilles. Do you want to stand before Achilles?"

And old man Priam nodded, and Hermes took that as a yes.
Title: Homer, Iliad, Book 24 (Part 2 of 2)
Post by: Scrooby on October 30, 2022, 02:14:10 AM
So Hermes Luck-bringer darted up, and before the old man
knew it, they had swept past what was left of the collapsed trench,
and what was left of the demolished wall, and had passed unseen
by the watchers at their look-outs, for as they were preparing
their suppers, the full number of them fell asleep when Hermes
came near. Then the god unbolted the gates, which swung open
on their hinges, and Hermes escorted the old man inside,
along with all the shining gifts in the four-wheeled wagon.

Then they came to a lofty, high-beamed tent, Achilles' tent,
that his faithful Myrmidons had built for their master, having
hewn thick trunks of cut-up fir trees into shape, and roofing it
with a spiky thatching of reeds gathered from meadowlands.

Surrounding the tent stood close-packed spikes upright in close order,
also built by his men for their master. The door had one solitary bolt,
a thick piece of pinewood, but it took the strength of three men
to move it (Achilles alone could draw it back with one hand).

Here at the tent Hermes slid the bolt aside for the old man,
and brought all the gifts from the wagon through the opened door.

Then he spoke :

"Before I go, old sir, know that I am Hermes, sent to you
by my father, to escort you to this very spot. So now
I have done this, so now I can go. But you step inside.
Wrap your arms round his knees, and beg him however you can,
beg him by his father and his mother and his child.
Perhaps you may soften his heart."

Thus busy Hermes Luck-bringer, who darted up and away,
returning to the open space of infinite Olympus.

So Priam stood there where he was, at nightfall; then stepped forward,
leaving Idaeus behind him with the animals. He went
to the tent where he would come to find magnific Achilles,
beloved of Zeus. Inside, he saw the man with some of his
friends; but Achilles sat apart, sitting over the remains
of his supper. Warriors Automedon and Alcimus,
meanwhile, attended to him carefully and quietly,
standing behind him at table. Unseen of any of these,
the old man stepped further inside, and looked upon the sorrow
darkening the face of Achilles, whose mighty head was bowed low.

So now the old man took another step. And then Achilles
raised his head, and saw the King of Troy standing weak before him.

Then Automedon and Alcimus took some steps forward,
but their master raised his hand; so they obeyed him, and stood still.

So the mighty king of Troy sank to his knees, and wrapped his arms
round the legs of Achilles; and he kissed the hands that had killed
his son. He kissed the terrible, man-killing hands that had taken
all of his good children. 

And Achilles looked on with bewilderment ever-sinking
deeper into his eyes; and his friends turned to one another
in astonishment, but said nothing, in fear of Achilles.

The Trojan king lay low before the Achaean champion,
just as a man, whose many terrible mistakes in his homeland
leads him to flee elsewhere, and hopes for assistance from someone
of wealth, anywhere, and everyone looks on him with wonder;
just so did Achilles look down on this person with wonder.

And old man Priam was likewise amazed to be where he was,
and likewise amazed to be meeting the eyes of Achilles.

So Achilles waited for the old man to speak. Thus, Priam
now began his prayer, and said :

"Son of Peleus, godlike Achilles, think of your father.
He who cared for you is of such an age as mine.
He faces what last years he has left without his son
by his side to protect him. So his neighbours may
bully him, and he has no one to defend him
against ruin, and then death. But, in his hardship,
he rejoices at heart, when he thinks of his son,
his heroic Achilles; and hopes for the day
when the boy returns to come live with the father.
This dream of his he hopes for day by day.

And now I come here to see you. I have come far
only to lose everything I made. I tell you
all my good sons are dead. You look down on a man
ruined in all ways, with nothing left for his heart.
Fifty sons I had with me in indomitable Troy,
when the Achaeans came in their ships. Nineteen of my
sons came from the same mother's womb; the others by
the women of my Halls. Of all these sons, a great many,
insane  Ἄρης has taken far the best of them, and left me
with the weak. The one last hero, who with his solitary
strength, defended his city and his people, he, too, you have
taken from the father, even Hector, famous Hector.
You, Achilles, have proven stronger than my son.
I come before you at the ships of the Achaeans to ask
for his body, and I bring an abundance of gifts of honour
for you, too valuable to price. Think of the gods,
and show mercy to me, and remember your own dear father.
I am more alone even than he; and have endured beyond
what any man should; and now I reach out my hand, in kindness,
to the man who killed my children."

Thus spoke Priam. Achilles glared at him, and felt inside him
a longing to drop tears for his own father. And he reached out
and took the warm hand of the old man, and gently removed it
from his own. But they stayed together, each thinking of the dead,
and tears gushed down from both; the one, for magnificent Hector,
while bent upon his face before the feet of Achilles;
while the other wept for his father, and for Patroclus;
and their mingled lamentations filled the tent.

Then when all his tears were shed, δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς got to
his feet, and raised the old man up from the floor, feeling pity
for his ancient frame, the grey hair and the grey beard;
and he spoke to the king, and said :

"Ah, luckless man! You have tolerated much; and have much yet
of horror for your heart to take in. You had the grace to come
on your own through the Achaean ships and stand before me,
and look into the eyes of the one who took all your many sons.
How is this possible? Your heart is as stone. But come now! Sit.
You and I together will let our disasters lie quiet
in our heart. Somehow we will sit quiet through all the sorrows.
For what good is there in endless grief? This is how it is for us,
all of us. We each of us have a miserable destiny given us
at birth, a destiny to live in pain in a hateful world,
which no god truly cares for, not enough to brighten it all.
Zeus writes everything into the surface of space and that's that :
some men have blessings whether they earn it or not;
while others the lover of lightning is happy to see
luckless and maltreated wherever he wanders, and the world
leaves him crazy, and drives him on in that way, then is reviled
by both gods and men. I would not call that fair, and yet we pray.

As for my father Peleus, the gods gave him all the luck
he would want, for a time. At birth he was given many gifts
that would serve him well among men. He became wealthy, and a king,
the master of the Myrmidons, and though a mortal he won
as his wife a goddess of the sea. But all that now I know
means nothing to him, as he thinks on his son destined to die
here, his only son. My father grieves far away in a land
I will never see again. For I have come here to bring you
and your children and your people a misery without end.
But when I was a young boy I heard all about distant Troy,
about grand King Priam, most blest of men, who brought together
Lesbos and Phrygia and everything in between by reason
of your wealth and your sons and your wisdom.
All men everywhere know of you and your glory; your name has
sailed down the Hellespont into places beyond our knowledge.

But the gods had ideas for you, just as they had some for me.
So we traded our good fortune for war, for slaughter of men.
What are we to do now, but hold ourselves, till there's nothing left
to hold. Endless tears in our heart won't bring back what we have lost.
And, if you don't mind me saying so, we'll all be dead in Hades soon."

Then old man Priam replied to him, saying :

"Achilles, beloved of Zeus, for all those reasons you say,
I cannot accept your invitation and sit. No, not while
my son lies unburied. Please now, return my son to me,
so that I may see him one last time. All the riches I brought
with me are yours to keep, treasures beyond price. (Or so I used
to think.) May all its wealth serve you well when you return to your
homeland. They're tokens of your kindness in sparing my life,
to allow me to let be in the light of the sun, at least
for one more day—which is more valuable than any treasure."

Then δῖος Achilles, glaring at him from under dark brows,
answered him, saying :

"Irritate me no further, old man. I give you your Hector
of my own decision. As it is, all this was meant to be
just as it has fallen. I am sure of it. For there's no way
any man, even one young and strong, would dare
enter into an enemy camp alone and unarmed.
Somehow you escaped the notice of the watchers.
Somehow you drew back the bolts of our doors.
It is clear that some god led you to me.
Now say no more, old man, unless you wish to move
my heart to raise my hand and kill you where you stand,
regardless of the gods and any of their Words."

Thus Achilles; and the old man, pale with fear, obeyed his command.

Then son of Peleus Achilles sprang up quick as a lion
and went out of the tent, followed close by his two attendants,
Automedon and Alcimus, now his closest friends, now that
Patroclus was dead. They released the mules from the yoke,
and brought old man Idaeus into the tent and had him sit
in a chair. Then they removed the shining ransom for Hector
from the bed of the wagon. But Achilles left two richly-
embroidered robes behind, and a simple tunic, so that he
might wrap the corpse, thereby making its transfer decent for all,
and a gentler sight for his mother when brought back to his home.
So Achilles summoned the handmaidens and requested of them
to wash the body and anoint it, arranging for this work
to be done out of Priam's sight, so the father might not see
his son, and lose himself in anger and rage, because Achilles
would have to kill him if this happened. So the handmaidens bathed
the body and rubbed in oil, then draped it in a fine cloak
and tunic. Achilles then lifted it up, and lowered it
down onto the bier. Then, he and his two attendants carried
the body out to the four-wheeled wagon, and set it inside.

Afterwards, Achilles sighed sadly, and cried out to his friend :

"I beg you, Patroclus! Show no anger if down in Hades
you come to hear that Hector has been given to his father!
All this has been done rightly, and in honour of your good heart."

Thus δῖος Achilles, who then turned back and re-entered his tent.

Inside, he lowered himself onto his chair, a beautifully-carven
piece, ornamented with imagery of myths of his homeland,
a past and a place he had no chance to ever return to.
This chair was set across the space from Priam's, and with all that
distance between them, Achilles began to speak to the king,
saying :

"Your son is now set free, as you wished. He lies upon a bier,
and when Dawn comes you will see him in the light, and take him home.
But for the moment we should consider some supper for you.
Think of Niobe of the infinite tears. Even she kept
herself alive with food, even after all that she suffered.
Her twelve children made her believe herself the most fortunate
of mothers. Not her husband's arts, not his or her own
magnificent families, not the kingship they held : none of this
gave her pleasure at heart the way her children gave her pleasure.
Then, one day, graceful Niobe in her woven robe of golden thread
stood before the people, and proclaimed the precedence of her
children over all others, even those of goddess Leto,
which would mean Apollo and Artemis. So the gods killed them all.
Apollo, in his anger, aimed his silver bow, and took down
the six brothers in their Halls. Then, arrow-shooting Artemis
destroyed the six daughters, each in the eyes of the others,
as her arrow-points came in and ripped through their flesh,
there in their beloved house, beside their beloved brothers.
Niobe had begged the gods for her youngest girl to be spared,
but even as she prayed, her youngest child died in her arms.
And so the gods took all the children of Niobe away.
For nine days they lay in the shambles of blood over the floor
and walls, for Zeus had turned the people of the city to stone.
I suppose the story means that we should stop thinking so much
of ourselves. As any rate, on the tenth day the gods above us
buried them; and Niobe thought for the first in all that time
of food, for all her tears had wearied her down past endurance.
Even she took in food, although she had thought herself past taking
in anything more. Nowadays, they say, she, too, has turned to stone,
and sits atop Sipylus, where she broods endlessly on her cares.
No blood runs through her veins; and her tongue does not move in her mouth;
but from the peak of the mountain her tears flow as a fountain
spring down and forever. Thus, good king, think on food for yourself;
then afterwards you may bring your son back within your city walls,
and mourn him with all the tears a desolate heart can produce."

So δῖος Achilles rose, took hold of a silver-white ram,
and cut its throat, as a sacrifice so that men might live on.
His companions flayed it, then prepared the meat excellently,
slicing it, and spitting the pieces, and roasting them well.
Then they drew off all the flesh and put it onto a platter.
Automedon then filled beautiful woven baskets with bread
and placed them on the table, while Achilles served the meat.
So they reached out their hands to the goodness set before them.
Then when they had eaten, they sat in a momentary peace,
and Priam, king of Troy, looked on with wonder at Achilles,
admiring the sort of man he was : handsome in aspect
and poise, and wondrous with words. So, when each was satisfied
with his contemplation of the other, then the old man
begin to speak, Priam, the godlike king of Troy, and he said :

"I shall lay myself down now, if that is acceptable to you,
master Achilles, faithful friend of God. Is there a bed here
for me to rest on?—so that in sleep I may release myself
of all my troubles for awhile? That is sleep's sweetest gift.
For I have not closed my eyes since your hands took my son from me.
Ever since, I have sat in my courtyard in mourning, in the dust,
thinking on my many sorrows. And now I have tasted bread
and meat for the first time as well; for in all that time I sat
careless of my own life and death, and let nothing pass my throat."

Thus Priam, and mighty Achilles nodded. He requested
of his friends and handmaidens to prepare two beds
within the tent, and to furnish them with soft purple blankets,
and to spread coverlets over them, and on those a layer
of cloaks of thick, fleecy wool, to keep old Priam warm at night.
So straightaway the handmaidens left with flaming torches in
their hands, to get on with their domestic work in quiet haste.

Then Achilles addressed the old king with a smile, saying :

"Good Priam, you should know that on any ordinary night
one or another of the Achaean leaders or ministers
are wont to come to me to talk strategy and devise plans
against your city. If now one came out of the dark and saw
you here in my tent, it wouldn't take long for Agamemnon
to find out, and my own life might end even faster than that.
As for you, I wouldn't have any better expectations.
But let us see if we can get to the coming of the dawn.
If we pull this off, please tell me now, and be straight about it :
How many days do you have in mind before you bury your son?
Because for all that time I'll do my best to hold the army back."

And Priam answered Achilles :

"Friend, if you are willing to do this for me as you promise,
and allow my good Hector his rightful burial, if you,
mighty Achilles, indeed grant me this wondrous kindness,
then please obey these words. You know my people have shut themselves
inside the city, where resources are scarce now. The forests
are far, and though my Trojans are terribly afraid to show
themselves just now, we will travel to the mountains, and carry
back the wood we need. For nine days we shall weep in the palace,
and wait. And on the tenth day we shall honour my son with burial,
and the people shall assemble and feast. Then, on the eleventh
day, we will raise his tomb. And on the twelfth we fight, if we must."

And Achilles answered Priam :

"Great king, it will be as you say. I will hold the army back
for all the time that you have specified to me."

And so the two men clasped each other's hands,
right on right, a pledge for Priam to feel no fear.
Then they laid themselves down to sleep, Priam
and his attendant Idaeus, and their wise hearts
beat through the silence of the night. But Achilles
stayed awake a while longer, lying in bed
with a very beautiful woman at his side, Briseïs.

Now, under the stars, the people of earth slept all the night through,
and even some gods, too, but not tricky Hermes Luck-bringer.
The wily slayer of hundred-eyed Argus was wide awake,
contemplating how to get old Priam away from the ships,
past the sharp-eyed gate-keepers, and back safely to his city.

So Hermes came up close to the king and whispered in his ear :

"Good sir, why are you sleeping so peacefully among enemies?
Achilles has spared your life, but too many dreadful ones won't.
You came across the plain for your son, and have set Hector free :
but what if Troy is obligated to gather a ransom
for you, if you're found where you lie, and Agamemnon is told
of this? The price to be paid for Hector's funeral will rise
to an unimaginable value, if you're taken captive here."

Thus Hermes. Suddenly Priam awoke and got to his feet,
and stirred his attendant, Idaeus. The tent of Achilles
was dark and quiet, and the two old men made their way outside,
where their four-wheeled wagon stood ready, with their mules yoked,
and the body of Hector, enrobed on his bier, in the back.

So Hermes watched over them as they drove through the starry night,
following the paths of the broad Argive camp, yet no one saw them go.

Dawn, then, lifted her veil, and revealed all of her beauty
to the people of the earth. By this time the two men had come
to the crossing of the fast-flowing river, the whirling Xanthus.
There, splendid Hermes left them to care for themselves, while he
stepped up to the open space of high Olympus.

So the two men crossed the river, and continued down the plain,
with Idaeus driving the mules, and old man Priam walking beside
the wagon, and the lifeless body of his son in the back.

As they neared the lofty city of Troy, neither man nor woman
noticed the approach of their king. Only one of all the Trojans
saw—Cassandra, daughter of Priam, and as beautiful as
golden Aphrodite. Hearing her god-given intuition,
Cassandra had rushed up the high tower by the Scaean gate,
and looked out onto the wide plain, and saw her father. She saw
him walking beside Idaeus driving the four-wheeled wagon.
And then she saw her brother's dead body lying in the back.
At that she shrieked in the night, and all the city heard her cry :

"He comes! Hector comes home from the battlefield! Troy!
Come see your hero return to your city!—the great glory
of all you men and women when he was alive, and fighting
for you!"

Thus Cassandra. Then no man nor woman was left within the city,
for all the people came streaming forth through the opening gates.
All the Trojans fell weeping when they saw Priam returning
with his dead son, their hero, the incomparable Hector.

Hector's wife Andromache cried out, and took hold of the body,
and would not let go; while his noble mother tore at her hair
and garments in a mania of woe; and all the people
crowded round the rolling wagon, and walked along beside it,
dropping tears all the while. So all day long until the sun
went down the people of Troy would have mourned their fallen hero,
weeping beside the gates of the city, had not King Priam
spoken out for all of his people to hear him :

"Make a way, good people, for a hero to pass through into
our city. When I have brought him home where he belongs,
back in Troy, then you may weep your every last tear."

And so, at the word of their king, the people spread out, making
a way for the mule-wagon to move forward.

Then, when δῖος Hector was brought to the glittering palace,
he was laid on a curtained bed. And the poet-singers came
to lead the threnody, and all the women joined in lamentation.
And among them was precious Andromache, low-sunk in tears,
holding her powerful husband in her arms all the while.

She said :

"My husband, they have taken you from me, so young. You have left
me a widow in your halls. You have left your son, just an infant.
You and I brought him into a world of everlasting woe.
Terrible to say it, but I don't think he'll come to manhood,
for the city will fall to dust long before that. You are gone.
You have left us, you who watched over the women and children
and kept us safe. I fear all these I speak of will soon be sailing
the black ships, to be brought who knows where; and I and your child
shall be slaves to a hateful master, and forced to labour at
disgraceful things. Or some Achaean, angry at you for all
your killing, will lift up your baby and throw him from the wall,
a miserable death. Ah, child, your father was never gentle
with the Achaeans! Now they want their vengeance, and the weak
will have to pay. Hear all the sorrow that fills the city air;
nothing awaits any of us now but pain and misery.
Your parents suffer as I suffer, as your one son suffers.

If you had died in this bed, you might have reached out with your hand
and held my own, and given me words to remember for life,
to think on night and day, with tears; or you might have simply said,
'I love you', one last time."

Thus unhappy Andromache. Then the mother of Hector,
noble Queen Hecuba, took the lead in the lament, saying :

"Hector, most beloved of all of my children, my spirit,
my very soul, ah, no! Let it not be so! The gods favoured
you while you lived, and they watched over you and all that's yours,
and yet they still took you in your prime. But that wasn't enough
for the gods. That crazed murderer kidnapped many of our sons
and sold them across the sea in foreign places, to Samos
and Imbros and Lemnos. That wasn't enough for him, either.
No evil is ever enough for the worst people on earth.
After he robbed you of life with the horrible bronze, he had
to rob you of your dignity, too : insulting your body,
dragging it round the grave of his friend Patroclus—
though all that effort will not give him one more moment of life.
And how strange it is to look on you now, my son. You lie here
as if freshly gone away, still full of colour, as if taken
painlessly, by one of the gentle arrows of Apollo.
If only you might open your eyes, and see your mother here."

Thus Hecuba in lamentation, and all the women wept.

Then, third to lead the lament, was Helen, saying :

"Great Hector, kindest of all Trojan men! Dearest to my heart
of all my husband's brothers! Twenty years ago your brother
Alexandros led me from my homeland and took me as wife,
and I left behind me a family of my own, which brings me
many scornful words from the people of this city. If I
had only sunk to the bottom of the sea before my foot
touched Troy! Then everyone here would know happiness.
As it is, the city has lost its gentlest soul. I never
heard a word of unkindness from you, not a word of distaste;
if such came from others in the palace, who also wish me dead,
you'd turn to them and say, 'Be gentle, be kind-hearted, be good.'
(Noble Priam alone is as gentle with me as you were with me.)
And so with these same tears I mourn for you and mourn for myself,
for I have lost a great friend and ally. No one else in Troy
looks at me without a shudder, and needless words of cruelty."

Thus spoke Helen in lamentation, and all the women mourned.

King Priam, meantime, stood before the men and spoke :

"All good Trojans, hear me! Bring firewood into the city.
And none of you men shall dread the Achaeans along the way,
for Achilles gave me his word, when I came from the black ships :
They will do us no harm until the twelfth coming of the dawn."

So the men of Troy yoked the oxen and the mules to the carts,
and gathered themselves together, and went forth from the city.
For the space of nine days they hauled in a vast supply of firewood;
but when the tenth Dawn came with light to bless the peoples of earth, 
then they lifted Hector up to the summit of the pyre,
weeping all the while; then they flung onto him the fire.

Then, at the time when Dawn came to spread her rosy fingers wide,
and light fell gently to earth, the people came from the city
and stood round the pyre of fearless, stout-hearted Hector.
First they quenched the fire, pouring the red wine over the flames
that were left. Then his brothers and his friends collected the bones,
and all the while tears trickled down their faces, yet they neglected
to wipe them away. They laid the remains in a golden urn,
wrapped up in soft, sea-purple robes, then lowered the memory
of the man into an open grave, and covered it over
with heavy, well-ordered stones, and raised the tomb of their hero.
During this the Trojans stationed watchmen all around, in case
any bronze-armoured Argives came skulking over to ruin things.
Then when the tomb was complete, they went back into the city
and shut the gates, and bolted them tight; then gathered together
in the palace of the king, where Priam hosted a glorious
feast for his fallen son, while Zeus Father watched from above.

Thus was the funeral for Hector, hero of long ago.


The End
of
The Iliad of Homer

22 January 2022 – 29 October 2022
Title: Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on October 30, 2022, 06:08:07 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c8/66/f9/c866f9b9b0ca6cfa639ad5d9ce0ede05.jpg)

Requiescat : last great telephoto shot on film . . . ?
Title: The Master : the secret marrage
Post by: Scrooby on November 02, 2022, 02:44:14 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c5/d7/4f/c5d74f405f945be7472b6df9f701e0eb.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d7/37/40/d73740020afe270052fe31b69d0c39a6.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/48/04/0a/48040af05c34a31f064f15217bcf51a4.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/01/59/b9/0159b975f4681c9fed2ec418ae629e8b.jpg)

The Master's daughter Elizabeth, at the moment of betrothal, turns to look Freddy in the eye. She is prompted by an inkling, seemingly inexplicably so. What does she see? 

Is it random, what Elizabeth does? Or something other? (Recall Freddy and the Master, at their first meeting, both noting the strange connection they already share.)

In this most consequential moment of her life, Elizabeth and Freddy are joined. To some degree in her memory, Freddy is now forevermore imprinted there ("You may kiss the bride")—and therefore also imprinted in her heart.

This otherworldly moment is a creepy capture of a highly-charged unspoken.

In the midst of joy, Elizabeth gazes into the darkness of a foreboding.
Title: "Thread Phantom Thread" : origin
Post by: Scrooby on November 05, 2022, 03:18:58 AM
Oedipus the play begins :

Οἰδίπους :
"ὦ τέκνα, . . .


1.

Oedipus the king steps into view of some citizens of the city he rules, Thebes. Oedipus the king begins with addressing the people : "ὦ τέκνα" : " O children". Oedipus is the father. Oedipus is the ruler—the right measure. Oedipus is Reason and Control. Oedipus is the State. Oedipus is Right.

Oedipus the man is confident, sure, reasonable; practical and trustworthy; helpful and caring; utterly responsible. Oedipus is certain on his feet.

In approximately sixty minutes his entire Self collapses from the highest height to the lowest low. Oedipus the character is a surrogate for the audience. Thus, what a wild ride for spectators to experience the continuum of Oedipus!

Isn't it funny that Oedipus the character is entirely, ingenuously with his whole heart, committed to tracking down, uncovering, and curing the Problem of the State, and spends the duration of the play employing Logic and Reason to follow the tracks of the Situation to its Origin, only to discover that He is the problem? Now, isn't that funny? (e.g., "First to go, last to know.") The tone of Oedipus the play, as devised by its playwright Sophocles, is a continuous mix of the dead-serious and the perversely funny : the sickest mix—considering the Situation. The play's tone is a fusion of colossal contrasts. This fusion is simultaneous at all times in the narrative. The play is not now-and-then funny, then now-and-then serious : the play is both, simultaneously and continuously.

Here, we must remember to hear the word "funny" as "the most perverse humour possible"; and the word "serious" as "the most serious Situation imaginable".

Mixing with virtuosity—fusing like Brundlefly—these two hyper-contrasts, these Opposing Poles of Perspective, the Serious and the Funny, is the mark of a first-rate narrative. The two-tone tone of Oedipus the play is matched, for example, by Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut.

This virtuoso tone is what Phantom Thread is after.

1b.

In fact : Oedipus the play has for its continuous tone a triple mix of contrasting-yet-homologous elements : (1) the dead-serious, (2) the perversely funny, and (3) the Most Horrifying, Sickly, David-Lynch-Strangely-Surreal, Stomach-Queasy Shockingness. This triple mix might make Oedipus the play, arguably, the greatest technical feat ever realized by a storyteller. Oedipus the play has the most complex tone of any story ever written.

1c.

How close does Phantom Thread come to this triple tone? Let's look.

2.

Οἰδίπους :
"ὦ τέκνα, . . .
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on November 07, 2022, 09:38:22 AM
2. The Perverse in Oedipus

Οἰδίπους

ὦ τέκνα, Κάδμου τοῦ πάλαι νέα τροφή,
τίνας ποθ᾽ ἕδρας τάσδε μοι θοάζετε
ἱκτηρίοις κλάδοισιν ἐξεστεμμένοι;
πόλις δ᾽ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει,
ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων:
ἁγὼ δικαιῶν μὴ παρ᾽ ἀγγέλων, τέκνα,
ἄλλων ἀκούειν αὐτὸς ὧδ᾽ ἐλήλυθα,
ὁ πᾶσι κλεινὸς Οἰδίπους καλούμενος.

O children, freshest raised of long ago Cadmus,
why have you gathered here, and sit before me,
holding appealing olive-branches crowned with leaves?
Why is the city air heavy with incense, why is the air heavy
with hymns and sighs? Judging it right to come to you
myself, o children, and not hear second-hand of things,
I am here, a name well-known to all, Oedipus.    

Thus the first 8 lines of the play. By the end of line 14, the State, Religion, and Self-confidence are all already fatally undermined by Sophocles.

3.

ἁγὼ δικαιῶν μὴ παρ᾽ ἀγγέλων, τέκνα,
ἄλλων ἀκούειν αὐτὸς ὧδ᾽ ἐλήλυθα,
ὁ πᾶσι κλεινὸς Οἰδίπους καλούμενος.

Judging it right to come to you
myself, o children, and not hear second-hand of things,
I am here, a name well-known to all, Oedipus.

Line 7 : "ἐλήλυθα" ("to come to"). Oedipus enters the play at an elevated pitch, at the height of stature. Falling downhill is the only direction he follows from here. The continuum of the narrative as devised by Sophocles is one long surreal fall. Reason is applied until Reason reveals the Absurdity of the Origin. But, just here, in his first words, Oedipus is at his highest position, the lofty starting-point of his long fall. Here, at the first, the speech is on the grand scale : Oedipus the play opens akin to the sound of the Big Bang; and progresses to a mostly empty darkness. Here, already, is perversity : "ἐλήλυθα". The grand-scale effect that Sophocles engineers in lines 6–8 (a broad, open-mouthed exclamation belted out with supreme confidence) includes, as a component, the ululatory use of six "L" sounds. "ἐλήλυθα" evokes "ἀλαλητῷ" in the use of the double "L". The ululant ἀλαλητῷ (from ἀλαλητός) is a war-cry or "shout of victory" (dictionary definition (dd)) and is "usually a triumphant outcry" (dd) in the Iliad (e.g. XII.138). It's one of those words in Ancient Greek that imply an improvisatory phonemic stream, such as "ἒ ἔ, παπαῖ παπαῖ" (Aeschylus, Agamemnon 1114); or "ὀτοτοῖ" (Aga., 1076), which appears elsewhere as, for example, "ὀτοτοτοτοτοτοῖ" (Euripides, Trojan Women, 1294). Oedipus stands before the people triumphantly ululative, not realizing he's already lost.

Later, Oedipus affirms his total commitment to tracking down the source of the Situation : a pestilence is ravaging the city. A fact is relayed to him : the previous king of Thebes, Laius, was murdered. On this subject Oedipus says (ll. 139–41) :

"Whoever killed him might possibly come to me
with hands raised in similar violence—so by
helping him, surely I am helping myself."

but—he himself—Oedipus—killed "him". Oedipus is the culprit Oedipus is after! Eventually, the man who raises up his hands against him is—himself!

In "helping", Oedipus is actively, zealously, and unwittingly, destroying himself.

Example : later, his fingers tear out his eyeballs from their sockets.

So is it an understatement to describe his encouraging pronouncement of faith as spectacularly wrong?

4. State vs. Religion : both spectacularly wrong

Oedipus speaks his opening words, then invites a Priest of Zeus to respond on behalf of the people. The Priest speaks (ll. 14–57). By line 58, the Situation has been exposed as Ridiculous.

The Priest of Zeus has no idea what Zeus is doing. (e.g. "Whoa, let's say you have no idea and leave it there. No idea. Zip, none.") Funny? The Priest appeals to Oedipus to save the city, unaware that Oedipus is the problem. Worse, the Priest speaks confidently of the Gods—he even parades his erudition with a cringeworthy joke. The Priest of Zeus is a silly oblivious idiot, yet a supremely confident man.

State vs. Religion : examples : (3) Oedipus invites the people to "rise" (ἵστασθε 143), but the people remain, until the Priest bids them "rise" (ἱστώμεσθα 147). (2) The Priest endeavours to educate Oedipus before the people. (1) The Priest delivers to Oedipus a monumental opening speech of 33 lines—then Oedipus responds by ignoring him completely.

By line 58, State, Religion, and Self are caught in pestilent darkness. By line 87, all three actors in Oedipus the play so far are "wrong about everything"!

Creon, the most trusted friend of Oedipus the king, returns from a fact-gathering trip to the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi, and his very first word is spectacularly wrong.

Oedipus to Creon : "What is the Word of the prophetic god?" (86)

Creon : "Good." (87)

In retrospect—considering an eyeless Oedipus exiled; his incestuous mother dead; his daughters traumatised; his sons dissolving into chaos and long war—this prediction is inaccurate.

Creon adds : "I say heavy suffering, if things chance to turn out well, may lead to some good." (87–8)

5. The Priest's cringeworthy joke

"πλουτίζεται" (30).

In the midst of his monumental speech, the Priest of Zeus remarks : "Hades grows rich in corpses  . . . !" πλουτίζεται : "make wealthy, enrich" (dd). Πλούτων : "Pluto", another name for Hades, God of the Underworld. πλουτίζεται / Πλούτων. The Priest of Zeus makes a stupid pun. Why? Because he is a moron. There is also a crucial technical reason for this dumb joke. Sophocles foregrounds a joke, one so obvious it's unmissable, and thereby sets a benchmark of humour for the Spectator. Since nothing else in Oedipus rises to that dubious level of obviousness, the Spectator might completely miss the (perverse) humour, and remain in the depths of a profound seriousness. This dumb joke is a key element that Sophocles uses to bring the triple-fold tone into being.

6. Undermining Reason

Oedipus is the most intelligent person in Thebes, the man who solved the riddle of the Sphinx. Sophocles conveys Oedipus' Reason reasonably. Example : Sophocles has Oedipus speak in "either-or" sentences (e.g. 11; 89–90) to convey that Oedipus sees many sides of Situations, and condenses his Thought succinctly and well.

But about himself Oedipus knows nothing!

Oedipus : "οἳ δ᾽ εἰσὶ ποῦ γῆς?" / "Where on earth is the murderer?" (108)

7. Plainly Perverse

"μίασμα χώρας" (97) : "miasma in the land".

Earlier, the Priest addresses Oedipus as "ὦ κρατύνων Οἰδίπους χώρας ἐμῆς" ("O Oedipus, king of my land" 14).

Creon returns, and delivers the oracular news : because of the murder of the king, there is a miasma in the land.

Since Oedipus is equated with the State from the start (Oedipus = χώρας), obviously the Oracle is speaking obviously : miasma = Oedipus. But nobody hears it this way.

Funnier, Creon says :

ἄνωγεν ἡμᾶς Φοῖβος ἐμφανῶς ἄναξ
μίασμα χώρας . . . (96–7)

"Apollo Seer commands us plainly (ἐμφανῶς) . . ."

8. prophetic ashes (μαντείᾳ σποδῷ 21)

As Oedipus progresses, Truth continually clarifies until the Spectator sees it clearly, and Oedipus blinds himself. Sophocles engineers this "shimmering slow-focusing knowledge" effect through technics, including word-repetition; double-meanings; strangely-apt metaphors. Key themes recur in the manner of alarm bells—(e.g. eyes, feet)—apparently unheard by the characters. Yet, as Oedipus progresses, a suspicion ever-increases that somehow, somewhere inside him, he already knows his Fate, but only intuitively, so cannot yet recognize the truth inside his own words.

(With his every word, one part of himself is speaking to another part of himself : a call from afar to afar.)

9. Seeing

The first 150 lines include many references to seeing (e.g. 15, 22, 45, 105). Example :

ὦναξ  Ἄπολλον, εἰ γὰρ ἐν τύχῃ γέ τῳ
σωτῆρι βαίη λαμπρὸς ὥσπερ ὄμμα τι ! (80–1)

Oedipus : "Apollo Healer! May He come as saviour, brilliant as an open eye!"

Not the most apt metaphor in retrospect?

10. Line 100.

Creon : "ἀνδρηλατοῦντας . . ."

Oedipus asks Creon : Did the Oracle reveal the cure to end the pestilence?

Creon's first word in answer: "ἀνδρηλατοῦντας . . ." : "to banish from house and home" (dd).

Oedipus has now heard his Fate. With another 1,400 lines to go!

11. ὀλωλότος

Creon says : "Λαΐου δ᾽ ὀλωλότος
οὐδεὶς ἀρωγὸς ἐν κακοῖς ἐγίγνετο." (126–7)

"After Laius' ὀλωλότος, no one helped us when the pestilence came."

ὀλωλότος = death / murder.

ὀλωλότος  (126)
ἀλαλητῷ (shout of victory)
ἐλήλυθα (7)

12.

Oedipus welcomes Creon's return from Delphi, saying :

τάχ᾽ εἰσόμεσθα: ξύμμετρος γὰρ ὡς κλύειν. (84)

Oedipus : "We shall soon know (what's going on) : he's within fit distance for hearing." (dd)

ξύμμετρος = "within fit distance" = "he's close enough to hear him speak the truth of things."

The perverse humour here recalls the last lines of Double Indemnity : the truth is actually : "closer than that."

13. Sick-footed

Just as with the repetitive theme of "seeing", so : feet (e.g. 50, 128). The Origin of the Situation involves Oedipus' feet—indeed, his name means "swollen foot" (dd). 

14. Repetition

Oedipus the play is mystic and incantatory early on. Techniques used by Sophocles to maintain the mystic mode include : hypnotic repetition of words or themes. Examples :

πόλις δ᾽ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει,
ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων (4–5)

φθίνουσα μὲν κάλυξιν ἐγκάρποις χθονός,
φθίνουσα δ᾽ ἀγέλαις βουνόμοις . . . (25–6)

γνωτὰ κοὐκ ἄγνωτά (58)

τίν᾽ ἡμὶν ἥκεις τοῦ θεοῦ φήμην φέρων (86)

ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ τοῦτ᾽ ἀποσκεδῶ μύσος (138)

πρός τε Παλλάδος διπλοῖς : to the two temples of Athena (20)

15. What is the message?

Oedipus : "ἔστιν δὲ ποῖον τοὔπος?" (89)

Oedipus : "What is the message?" (of the Oracle). Or : What is the Word? What is the Truth?

τοὔπος is virtually a homophone of τόπος ("place").

So Oedipus is also saying (unwittingly) : "What is the place?"

The place—where his Reason hasn't arrived at yet—is "τριπλαῖς ἁμαξιτοῖς" (716) : "where three ways meet". The place where the murder took place. The murder he committed. The murder of his father.

ἁμαξιτοῖς : ways, paths, roads, pathways.

In retrospect, isn't the following metaphor strange?

Oedipus, to the people :

"ἀλλ᾽ ἴστε πολλὰ μέν με δακρύσαντα δή,
πολλὰς δ᾽ ὁδοὺς ἐλθόντα φροντίδος πλάνοις" (66–7)

"Know that I have shed many tears, and have wandered many ὁδοὺς of Thought."

ὁδοὺς : ways, paths, roads, pathways.

16.

Oedipus and his birth mother are separated at his birth. Later, they meet, marry, and have children together, all unwittingly (apparently). How disturbing, that Nature didn't engineer-in safeguards against such behaviour!

17.

Oedipus is Mind. His first line is a question. His Mindfulness is referenced at 6, 58, 67, 73, 132, etc. The Priest of Zeus remarks that Oedipus solved the riddle of the Sphinx "οὐδ᾽ ἐκδιδαχθείς"—"without any instruction from us". (38)

In Oedipus, questioning leads straightaway to cataclysm.

18. The Best Intentions

Grandly before the people of the city Oedipus says :

τῶνδε γὰρ πλέον φέρω
τὸ πένθος ἢ καὶ τῆς ἐμῆς ψυχῆς πέρι (93–4)

"I care more for all these people than for my own life."

Later, he will be forced to worry about himself.

Funny? Serious? Horrible?

Phantom Thread : Part I of Film

THE COMIC

Alma enters the film and promptly trips up. "I simply don't have time for confrontations" : i.e. "I don't have time for life" : a perverse paradox recalling paradox-play in Sophocles and Henry James. The way "my old so-and-so" Cyril slides into her breakfast chair recalls the ghost of an actress in a 1930s movie (4.52–5); her immemorial grace returns at the fashion show (43.54–9). "I make dresses" : the amusingness of the naive-sounding experienced-one (e.g. Alice saying "Thank you" at Ziegler's party). "Confirmed bachelor . . . incurable" : perfectly amusing dialogue for, say, Cary Grant or Robert Montgomery or Clark Gable in the 1930s. Blue is "bit serious", then Cyril promptly walks in wearing blue. (Throughout the film Lesley Manville has the 1930s look all over her shape.) "She told me she wants to be buried in a dress that you make" : a nexus moment—the marriage of comedy and death : an absurd joke, a "foregrounding" joke, like the Priest of Zeus' πλουτίζεται ! Breakfast is a locus of the light-hearted throughout PT. Woman wants the man sexually, "I'm working" (41.39)—a comic moment in any narrative. The comedy swiftly continues as "the other woman" sweeps in : Cyril with tea. The fashion show involves a comedy of degree : 'tis a very proper meltdown : "Let me do it. Let me do it. . . . Let me do it, let me do it. Damn it. You're no good to me just standing there, Pippa! I need your hands on this. . . . Just go. Go, go! I'm sorry." End of Part I of PT.

NAZI GERMANY

"Do you look very much like her?" "I don't know, I think so." (17.44) Does this exchange suggest Alma's family was lost to the Nazis? Alma doesn't seem to like very much any type of control. Woodcock invading her personal space to remove her lipstick, or to work on fashion, generates some anxiety for her (e.g. the CU at 24.22–47). The depersonalization, being reduced to measurements, a physical object occupying a space, doesn't seem to appeal to Alma very much. "Just jump up on the box for me" : the man could be ordering just anybody (24.12). Alma also doesn't find appealing her personality being forced down to zero; nor the sadistic monster Nazi overtones of "You have no breasts. . . . My job to give you some, if I choose to."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9e/50/7d/9e507d9de66d58e02ba203421190c18c.jpg)

(39.52) Concentration camp wear? Note the face : light and dark.

THE CREEPY

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/47/da/45/47da45422098f968721260f8610444a6.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/a9/af/0da9af295e898371458979d1bd3c6adb.jpg)

"ashes . . . fallen to pieces." μαντείᾳ σποδῷ !  (21.26)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/17/2a/9f172aa32587ae95041efdb4c5272d05.jpg)

This shot marries silent film (tint) to Clockwork Orange : as directed by Murnau (11.10–19).

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/67/22/b2/6722b2dfc5a46ba971ac5d47c0a25948.jpg)

(9.18) Cyril flicking the napkin hard (like Jack sweeping junk into the lens in Shining) in a "get away" motion and signal. It is also aggressive : evocative of pent-up energy : finely-channelled energy. Cyril : the "I". Reason. "Cyril is right. Cyril is always right."

This quick "flick" movement is recalled in Woodcock's head gesture here :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/dc/3d/c6dc3dc4e99bf579573b33e1a8511aa8.jpg)

"And where's the dress now?" Small talk is large intrusion. Woodcock's quick head gesture returns at "I think I don't like the fabric so much" (35.02). Patterns, resonances.

"And who's this lovely creature making the house smell so nice?" (27.18) : Silence of the Lambs motif. "My little carnivore" (33.16) Also evokes a fairy-tale motif : e.g. "Then l'll huff . . . and l'll puff . . . and l'll blow your house in!"

Bullying and dissent : "Yeah, you didn't say that" : correcting him (29.21). "but you do now" : correcting her (39.32)—which recalls Grady in Shining : "Did you know that?" : same off-hand power-games.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7a/8d/ba/7a8dbad07bc521eb4330e11de145c0d6.jpg)

30:32–40 : "You have the ideal shape" : Fassbinder : the dolly-zoom. (An intrinsic tool in Fassbinder's technics.) Ominous. (The dolly-zoom returns in "Alma, will you marry me?"—but now includes Woodcock as well).

Fairy-tale element : Alma is nature caught in the castle like Danny in the Overlook. The fairy tale of the orphan child who works her will among bullies who think themselves gods.

EYE

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/16/4a/65/164a65cb80a49427f2183f656df5dd8f.jpg)

The mad eye of the artist (a 1920s German-feel : Caligari etc). Oedipus : "like a bright eye".

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/98/ff/de/98ffde7dd206d1cf3e48c6ba565dbe97.jpg)

The summit. "like a bright eye".

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c4/25/5b/c4255bd01d86a47cca8d86e3604849e1.jpg)

See Psycho (1960).

"That's your room" : similar in affect to Norman Bates and the "b-b-b-b-bathroom" (33.50). 

"I very much hope that she saw the dress tonight. Don't you?" : he sounds here uncannily like Hal-9000 (10.29).

MAGIC CIRCLE MOMENT

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cd/03/94/cd03946f0acf3a042100a3fe3d77fd41.jpg)

MOTHER

Wedding dress : equated at the first with Mother (her second marriage /cf. Παλλάδος διπλοῖς). Marriage = Mother. Keeping Cyril close keeps mother close. Women work for him and help him create. The art produced is for women to wear. His sister runs the business. All women judge him.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

"It's comforting to think the dead are watching over the living. I don't find that spooky at all." (10.40)

SERIOUS

"No one can stand as long as I can" (34.49) has an epic sense, Homeric : the sense of "endure".

FASHION SHOW

Judgment Day.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2c/d4/d7/2cd4d73274018b722ff15a1413ae0222.jpg)

End of Part I of Phantom Thread.

Conclusion : Thankfully, PTA is reaching far.


Title: Seneca / Thyestes : Scene 1
Post by: Scrooby on November 22, 2022, 11:43:39 AM
Seneca / Thyestes

Unearthly light. Umbrageous cosmopolitan opulence. The ghost walks, looks, speaks :

TANTALUS
Who has raised me out of the underworld,
unbound me from that hell of misfortune,
where food torments my eager grasping mouth?
Which horrible god shows me these hateful
homes to look on again? Perhaps a worse
torture's been found for me? Worse than dusty
thirst in water? or a mouth endlessly
gaping in hunger? What horror can outdo
Sisyphus hauling a rock unsteady
on his shoulders? Or what about one's limbs
spread out on a speedy spinning wheel? Or
the torture of Tityus, whose guts lie
open for greedy birds to feed on—then
night restores everything eaten by day,
and he lies as a fresh banquet again
for the fiends. What horror is it am I,
Tantalus, being written into? Ah,
whichever cruel administrator of hell
invents torments to bring upon the dead,
whoever you are with the power to judge :
whatever you can add to make even
the prison-keeper tremble, and make even
Acheron tremble, and make even I
myself tremble, give it to me! For I
know that as I say this, my family
is germinating a plot to outdo
its own past, to make me look innocent
by comparison, as they attempt things
unattempted yet in horror. Any space
unfilled with pollution I will supply
to the full! At no time, while the house
of the Pelopidae stands, will Hell's keeper
sit idle.

FURY
Go on then, you detestable creature!
Invest a fury in this wicked house.
Let them struggle to outdo each other
in crimes of all kinds, and unsheathe the sword
by turns. Let them know no limit to rage—
nor shame. Stir up in their minds blind fury,
and let the parents' frenzy persevere
and the long evil grow through the children!
Let there be no time to detest old crimes—
let new ones come constantly, and never
singularly—and while punishing crime,
let it flourish! In the magnificence
of their kingship let the two brothers fall,
only to slither back onto the throne.
Let the fortunes of this pestilent house
dither in uncertainty between the kings;
let the king be ruined, and the ruined
become king. Let their mettle thrash along
violent rapids. Banished for their crimes,
when god allows them their homeland again,
let them come for more crime; and as hated
as they are by all, let them loathe themselves
more. Let their rage think nothing forbidden.
Let brother fear brother; parent, the son,
son, the parent. Let children die horribly,
but come to birth even more horribly!
Let the wife menace the husband : in this
atrocious household let adultery
be the most trivial of villainy!

Let trust, and justice, and law all perish.
Let them bring war across the seas, and spill
a flood of blood over the lands; and let
the great kings who lead the peoples exult
in boastful debauchery. Not even
the sky shall be immune to your evil.
Why are the stars glimmering over us
now, preserving the honour of Heaven?
Bring on new night! Let day fall from the sky.

Throw the house into a confusion of self-
disgust, and slaughter, and death—fill the house
full of Tantalus! Ornament the high
doors and columns with cheerful laurel leaves,
let the hearth fire burn bright to welcome
your coming—then all old evils outdo!
Why are the uncle's hands empty? Not yet
the adulterer weeps for his children?
And when will he lift them up to his face?

Now, let the cauldrons boil on the fires,
and drop in them body parts, piece by piece,
letting their blood foul the ancient home,
as you prepare a banquet. You will sit
at table with the brothers and witness
a crime, one you will not find new to you.
You have been given a day of freedom,
and your hunger is ready to be filled :
so fill it! Watch while the wine is mixed
with blood, and drunk. You have come to a feast
that even you would run from. Stop! Why are
you running? Where're you going?

TANTALUS
To the swamps and rivers, and the waters
that taunt me, and the tree that tricks my lips.
Let me go back to my gloomy prison,
if allowed. And if I'm not too awful,
may I change rivers? Let me stay in the
midst of your channel, Phlegethon,
surrounded by your fires! Whoever
anywhere is suffering punishments
of Fate; whoever lies long terrified
and hidden in caves, and fears the mountain's
coming collapse; whoever anywhere
is entangled in ravenous lions
and disgusting stinky-centred Furies;
whoever waves off with half-burnt body
all the flaming torches pitched at them,
hear Tantalus speak and what he tells you,
trust my experience : love punishment!
So now may I get down off this high ground?

FURY
First you must disturb the house. Your presence
must bring war. Bring to the great kings the love
of the sword; make their hearts shake in insane
tumult—

TANTALUS
It's right for me to suffer punishment,
but not to be one! You will let me loose,
awful like sickness breathing out a crack
in the earth, to burden people with ruin
filling up the air? You would have a grand-
father drop horror onto his grandsons?
Great God! (Indeed, Zeus, worker of evil,
is my true father—to my shame of course!)
Though I suffer a terrible penalty
for bold speech, and am tortured endlessly,
let my tongue punish me more! I won't keep
quiet about this! Hear me, my family!
Do not dip your hands in outrageous blood!
Do not let it stain your inner altars!
I stand firm to prevent this wickedness.

(to FURY)

Ah! Why are you snapping my mouth with that
wild lashing whip? Ah! The hunger infixed
in the marrow of my bones ignites again!
You set my heart a-blazing with thirst again!
Your fires nips my innards through my charred flesh!
Ok, ok, I follow you.

FURY
This! This fury of yours; fill up the house
with this fury—and burst it to pieces!
This! Just like this they must be driven on!
You must make them thirst for each other's blood,
turn by vile turn. Go inside! . . . The house
senses you enter : it shook around your
abominable presence. Good. Very good.
Now go away. Get back to the dark below,
and to the river you know! . . . . Ah, look there!
He makes the earth heavy with his sad step.
His presence sends the springs rushing backwards,
and the waters disappear at their source.
The rivers are empty between their banks;
and a burning wind takes the clouds away.
All the forests grow pale. The fruits drop,
and the branches hang naked. Waves crash on
the sides of the Isthmus, a thin landline
dividing facing gulfs, till the waters
recede into the distances; and in the
silence, sounds from far are clearly heard now.

The Lernan Lake has evaporated;
and Phoronides, the River God's son,
and all his rushing veins have gone away;
while another son, holy Alpheos,
denies the earth his water; and mountain
Cithaeron stands bare at its heights of its
deposit of snow; and those in Argos
who remember the past are filled with fear.

Look! The Sun-God, mighty Titan himself,
hesitates whether to bring forth daylight,
to take the reins, and bring it to its ruin.
Title: The Master's forward stitch to Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on November 25, 2022, 07:52:29 AM
At the colossally horrific reveal of Oedipus at l. 1297, one of his first colossal phrases is "οὐ γάρ με λήθεις". = "You are not hidden to me."

The word λήθεις is very close to ἀλήθεια .

λήθεις = "to escape notice".
ἀλήθεια = truth, reality, unconcealment.
(ἀ–λήθεια)

"You, the chorus, are not hidden to me."

and

"The truth is hidden no longer."
Title: Phantom Blondie
Post by: Scrooby on December 03, 2022, 01:27:34 PM
Has anyone ever mentioned the distinct connection between the boisterous New Year's Eve party in Phantom Thread and this similarly designed scene in Blondie of the Follies (1932) starring the ultimate 1930s Hollywood insider Marion Davies?

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/83/b0/74/83b0740920ce6db933a26afb42407f01.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3a/cb/33/3acb33188a9550a847c3ac7d3c07da0a.jpg)

Best wishes.
Title: Blondie Thread
Post by: Scrooby on December 05, 2022, 08:16:20 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/51/ed/6b/51ed6b172b783fef5ae51bd964f24d37.jpg)

With Scroobified Subs. Please ensure to activate subs!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuQvB3qOvhQ

Best wishes.

Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on December 05, 2022, 02:05:11 PM
Hell yeah ~ will bookmark
Title: "Whatever you do, do it carefully."
Post by: Scrooby on December 07, 2022, 04:16:00 AM
PRIEST OF ZEUS
O Oedipus, master of our city,
you see here seated in assembly
before you the years of these suppliants :
some here have not yet strength in wing to rise,
while others are all too heavy in age.
I, a priest of Zeus, shall speak on behalf
of all these unmarried youths and old men
gathered here. Know that the other cityfolk
sit in the city-centre by the two
temples of Athena, holding their sacred
olive branches in hand beside the banks
of Ismenus, who gives us divinations
(if read rightly) in the ashes of fire.

Our city is overcome, as you see,
helpless to lift its head up from the depths
of bitter death. Withering is the fruit
inside their rinds, wilted on their branches
in our land. Withering are our cattle
in our fields. Our women, too, bear stillbirths
only. Some hard god has set a hateful
plague on us and carries off the city
person by person, decimating us,
the ancient race of Cadmus,
and granting Hades the wealth of our lives.

I and these children sit here before you
not as before a god, but as before
the first of men, as master of affairs
between earth and heaven. You came to us
and freed the city from the Sphinx's terrible
song, though having no knowledge beforehand
of this, and with no instruction from us.
Men say a god helped you; in any way,
at that time you straightened out our city.

Now, o most excellent king Oedipus,
we come here to your hearth to beg for help.
Whether you find strength through the word of gods,
or know the truth in your own mortal heart,
in my life I have seen how experienced
men are the best counsellors of people.
Please now, o best of men, save our city!

But whatever you do, please be careful
about it—for your sake, you who are sung
in songs of praise as saviour of our Thebes!
Let it not be written that you lifted us
back to our feet only for us to fall
back down. Let all men remember your reign
as the city's restorative to health.

Once before you gave us prosperity,
a good omen for our present troubles.
Be that good man again! You must not rule
over a wasteland emptied of people.
What is a high city, or far-reaching ship,
without men there to work? It is nothing.
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on December 07, 2022, 11:41:14 PM
"I'm incurable."

μίασμα χώρας, ὡς τεθραμμένον χθονὶ
ἐν τῇδ᾽, ἐλαύνειν μηδ᾽ ἀνήκεστον τρέφειν. (ll. 97–8)

ἀνήκεστον = incurable

a. μίασμα χώρας = "miasma in our land"
b. χώρας = Oedipus

so,

c. Oedipus = incurable.
Title: an Xmas movie 4 u
Post by: Scrooby on December 12, 2022, 05:15:00 PM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gpewn8wDPxw

Please turn on subtitles. Enjoy.
Title: Spielberg Pizza Odyssey
Post by: Scrooby on December 17, 2022, 02:33:01 PM
When Gary walks into the trade exposition, the camera's aperture opens a split second or so before entering into the building (32.03).

(1) In spirit, this lensing moment recalls the amusingly allusive "power surge" effect (from 2001: A Space Odyssey) when Barry's stride switches to slo-mo while boarding the airplane in Punch-Drunk.

(2) This lensing moment recalls how PTA requested of his cinematographer to (paraphrasing) "not be so precise" in Barry's phone-sex scene; thus Robert Elswit intentionally added the "lurch" that the fine folks here will know.

(3) This burning-in-of-intentional-foible is artist's code for, "I'm taking this so seriously I'm even undercutting it." This is Fassbinder's strategy in Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss : while the camerawork is technically magnificent throughout, Fassbinder lays on music in a ludicrously slapdash manner in the second half of the film to intentionally undercut the visual precision : perhaps to undercut everything.

Bonus : Need I mention the thematic use of lens flares in Spielberg's new film? For a few times in an otherwise sedate production, Spielberg conjoins lens flares with the mother. (Thus, as with West Side Story, lens flares later in the film bring the character back to memory). At one moment, in a flare only film can capture, Spielberg evokes the inspiring last shot of 2001 : but instead of the fresh-eyed Baby, here the bubble holds mother and child. (Kubrick originally envisioned Saturn, not Jupiter, for Part IV—notice how Spielberg's flare recalls the shape of the wondrous ringed planet.)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9c/14/a7/9c14a78251964c9211d6b53b41eb5e49.jpg)


Will this be the last great lens flare of note ever? Will PTA respond . . . ?

Happy holidays.
Title: PTA among the Greats
Post by: Scrooby on December 19, 2022, 03:37:24 PM
Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey into Night :

MARY (teasingly) : Oh you! You expect everyone to eat
the enormous breakfast you do. No one else in the world
could without dying of indigestion.

These remarks occur in the opening exchange of husband and wife on the morning of the play. In every response the mother gives at this time, as at all other times at day or night, a kernel of negativity is transacted to her interlocutor, however pleasant the appearance of her outward vibe. Her character is the proverbial "conversation killer" : an everflowing spring of negativity. The mother is a product and symbol of her environment. Perversely comically (in the manner of Sophocles and PT), her husband and sons unwittingly caused, and still perpetuate, her fall and subsequent escape into morphine addiction; and as they suffer the consequences of the family disaster, they determine her, while they heartily drink their whisky, the criminal in the Situation.

But in PT, Alma is associated with the life-giving nature of food, and praises with wonder the hunger of the artist whose rapid mind burns energy as fast as light.

This aspect of Alma is a positive. As is PTA's association with the world's foremost playwrights.

Best wishes and happy holidays.

Title: Complete Holiday Reading 4 U : Oedipus Maximus
Post by: Scrooby on December 20, 2022, 06:28:31 AM
Oedipus Maximus : a Reboot

Note : This play follows line 862 in Sophocles' Oedipus Tyrannus.

Jocasta and Oedipus. Daytime pillow-talk in bed after sex.
   
JOCASTA : I've been waiting for us to speak.

OEDIPUS : About what?
 
JOCASTA : What we know, and fear to say, even in a sigh—for the slightest breath might bring disaster upon us.

OEDIPUS : And so you would have us speak of this now?

JOCASTA : Just now we're safe here inside our knowledge. No one can hurt us.

OEDIPUS : What knowledge?

JOCASTA : I think you know.

OEDIPUS : I don't.

JOCASTA : Be a man!

OEDIPUS : As opposed to your child?

JOCASTA : You do see.

OEDIPUS : Today I see.

JOCASTA : And so? What shall we do with this new knowledge? Destroy ourselves, or fight? I for you, and you for me. Together we must fight for us!

OEDIPUS : As mother and son? Or husband and wife?

JOCASTA : I love you all in all. I cannot discriminate my passion. Not now. As sweet as it is to know my son is alive, sweeter still is the loving touch my husband gives. This, I think, is what I would suffer most in losing.

OEDIPUS : You would have us love as husband and wife before the eyes of the city?

JOCASTA : Nothing was said that those people would understand.

OEDIPUS : But Tiresias—

JOCASTA : The old man who revealed his apathy for the city? Loftiness in the low is derisory. He won no supporters with his words. You came away the victor.

OEDIPUS : Yet he said—

JOCASTA : The truth only we three know! And no one will believe him.

OEDIPUS : Only three? And the gods? Do you not think of the pestilence?

JOCASTA : Inside the house, or out?

OEDIPUS : What are you saying?

JOCASTA : I'm saying your skepticism is infuriating, in husband or son! You see the truth yet would deny your responsibilities. You have a marriage to protect, and a parent. Yet you fret, like a child.

OEDIPUS : When one knows what one is doing, responsibility is the good guide. When one is lost, responsibility is a tangled maze.

JOCASTA : A maze? Who better to navigate a labyrinth of thought than you, Oedipus, known to all everywhere as master of men in mind, champion of the Sphinx! You heard that horrible priest—he kindly reminded the people that you required no help from them to find the solution. You have the people's love. You impress them.

OEDIPUS : Yet they're dying and beg for help.

JOCASTA : I beg you, show me no more weakness! Rats enter into even the least opportune gap.

OEDIPUS : You speak of protecting ourselves? Do we even have the right to go on?

JOCASTA : You speak of "right"? What right have you not to protect us?

OEDIPUS : Shall I say it?

JOCASTA : What we know is inconsequential. Everything is permitted—if we allow it.

OEDIPUS : Is this love you defend for me, or for yourself?

JOCASTA : You mock the love of a mother for her son?

OEDIPUS : No. But I'm skeptical of the love of a wife for a husband.

JOCASTA : If we stay firm we shall survive this.

OEDIPUS : But you spoke before the people of summoning the witness of the king's murder. Soon they'll learn I'm the reason for the city's sickness.

JOCASTA : What I said before the people is inconsequential! What else do you say before the illiterate mob but empty promises? You and I shall ask no further questions about our past. You shall seek out no further clues. As for Creon, the theatre of sending him to Delphi allows us a pretext for punishment. Call it lies and sedition.

OEDIPUS : Not even your own brother escapes your hand?

JOCASTA : Would you rather we sacrifice ourselves to Creon?

OEDIPUS : Who won't fall before your glorious lies?

JOCASTA : If lies keep us living, why obey deadly truth?

OEDIPUS : You put me in three minds at once. (to himself) I must focus on the most vital question.

JOCASTA : You mean, How do we get away with this?

OEDIPUS : (hesitating) Yes.

JOCASTA : You see? Our thoughts are still each other's. This proves our love remains strong.

OEDIPUS : As mother and son?

JOCASTA : No more of that! What do you want? To persuade me to hang myself? This is how we were meant to be—as man and wife. Now that we've faced facts, now we must protect ourselves. To do anything otherwise is imbecilic. You'd sacrifice ourselves to morality, when no one knows the truth?

OEDIPUS : Three people know. And the gods—that's one side too many.

JOCASTA : And if there are no gods? Then no one can stop us.

Enter CREON, with sword.

JOCASTA : How boldly you step, my brother! What motivates this audacious intrusion?

CREON : This is how I greet a man who would have me dead.

JOCASTA : Rubbish! Take no notice of chatter in public!

CREON : You would have me ignore a death sentence given me?

OEDIPUS : Leave us.

CREON : Would you rather I speak my mind before the ear of the city?

Oedipus rises from bed and stands before Creon.

OEDIPUS : Speak what?

CREON : I come armed with the truth, which will protect me.

JOCASTA : What does he want? Enough riddles; speak out clear!

CREON : I know the man in my sister's bed is the plague killing the people.

OEDIPUS : What is this?

CREON : Abusing me with threats of the word "traitor" came, I think, from fear. Of what?

OEDIPUS : Not of you. That sword sharpens your tongue. Careful.

CREON : Oedipus, how perverse is the humour of the gods! Delphi spoke plain to us! μίασμα χώρας, I was told. Think of it : χώρας is Thebes. You are Thebes. The oracle's message was so simple you missed it clear in front of your eyes! For your sake I explained nothing to the elders. Oedipus, I come not to hurt you. I come bearing a sword to say I held my tongue for you.

OEDIPUS : A drawn sword is no requirement to speak your mind.

CREON : I will not lift it without provocation.

OEDIPUS : Have I reason for that? As it is, you deliver no news. I heard the truth as you spoke it.

CREON : You admit you killed Laius, yet sleep in his bed beside his wife? How solid is the blood inside you! This shameful union may be lighter than the prophecy you fled from, but is questionable.

JOCASTA : Questionable how? Say what you mean.

CREON : The king promised the people that the murderer of Laius must leave the city.

As Jocasta speaks, she rises from bed and stands before Creon.

JOCASTA : The city's heard riddles from oracles, nothing more. Speculation is plentiful, rendering all words useless.

CREON : Hence my sword? Don't fear me, sister.

OEDIPUS : We don't.

CREON : What have you decided? Everyone in Thebes must die so you two may live?

JOCASTA : Would you rather we die? You may live, too.

CREON : I live yet!

OEDIPUS : You live now.

CREON : You said you would summon a slave from the fields for questioning. Why?

OEDIPUS : Creon knows all else yet asks why?

CREON : Okay. The place where three roads meet. The roads coming in from Delphi and Daulis. Why is that spot so important for you to think on?

OEDIPUS : You question your king?

CREON : Not the king—my sister's husband.

OEDIPUS : You said you would not raise your sword.

JOCASTA : Creon, you well know that spot was where my first husband died.

CREON : It's where Oedipus killed him.

OEDIPUS : All know the story by now. I was defending myself.

CREON : A second time you admit you were there!

OEDIPUS : The king died there. Now say your words and go!

CREON : If you were there, at the place where the three roads meet, why do you seek testimony of that bloody work from the mouth of an ancient slave?

Oedipus, master of mind, pauses.

JOCASTA : Creon, what is your concern here? The king speaks to placate the people. Here in Thebes, crooked words straighten things out.

CREON : Crooked words—in this room, too?

OEDIPUS : Enough! What do you want?

CREON : The pestilence is punishment for some other atrocious act, isn't it? Some other shameful work of yours. What other reason is there for you to root through the past, except that you're searching for some other answer?

JOCASTA : What of it?

OEDIPUS : I would speak to him no more, dear wife.

JOCASTA : He has angered me. (to Creon) Aren't you ashamed of that spectacle before the people, begging those imbeciles for their faith, as if honoured to be among them? Perhaps you wish to be their foremost man?

CREON : Forgive me, queen, but your husband is our foremost man.

JOCASTA : Speak your desire!

CREON : I have one question to ask—

OEDIPUS : Whose side you're on?

CREON : I take no side. I defend truth.

OEDIPUS : (smiles) Uncle—

CREON : Uncle?

OEDIPUS : That's the truth.

In an instant Creon is writhing on the ground, mouth gushing blood, his tongue severed.

JOCASTA : My brother!

OEDIPUS : His lack of loyalty has left him at a loss for words.

JOCASTA : He writhes in agony! Creon! You lost your way in the maze of the city, when all the time your home was here, where you would have been safe. But you were a blind boy.

OEDIPUS : It's done. He shall breathe out his treason no longer. Darling, while my hands worked, a thought entered my mind. The oracle that led me on the way to where the three roads meet—said nothing of this. Perhaps the oracle reaches a limit of dark, as we do, beyond which nothing is clear. How is it I have come to know this only now?—The world I live in is mine to create. Nothing that is not my own shall have dominion here. And the bright light here shall be of you, Jocasta!

JOCASTA : Come to me now, on the body; this warm soft foundation.

OEDIPUS : Ah, the blood! Kiss me!

JOCASTA : Mmmm, to be fucked as gods! Let them all rot! Let them die in their filth down to dust! No one left here but us! The whole city, our own palace! Ah, son! Our love has made us stronger than Fate! Time has bent to our will! We've won!

Darkness.

CHORUS
O may I convey
what must be heard seriously,
in all my words
and in all my acts;
to set before all
the laws of high-footed Heaven,
whose duration is forever,
there where solitary father lives.

Our nature must not be a forgetting.
We shall not be a place of oblivion
where one passes the night.

Let me instead enter into the completion of Divinity.

Confidence is the parent of tyranny.
Confidence, when overstuffed idly
with nothing beneficial, high in the head
moves forward into a sheer fall
from compulsion into anguish.
There, one is subject to unstable footing.

I pray that God does not undo our city.
I know I must not fall,
but preserve and protect fairness always.
No one must keep me from preserving the Word.

Please may I enter the completion of Divinity.

May the unrighteous know Justice;
otherwise why stand by in patience and pray?
But faded in the air is the ancient knowledge.
The living fail to see value,
and the god-words are followed nowhere.
Gone is the worship of the Word.

But may I enter into the completion of Divinity.

Oedipus stands at the window by the marriage bed.

JOCASTA : Come back to bed, son.

OEDIPUS : Soon.

JOCASTA : Look how your chest hair sticks to your sweat on my body. When we're making love you remind me of your father. You're as strong as he was. Stronger. How happy I am! You've taken the hands of silence from around my neck. I breathe free again.

OEDIPUS : Free?

JOCASTA : What do you mean?

OEDIPUS : (turning to another subject) We must remove the dead from the palace.

JOCASTA : Listen. You shall tell the city that Creon went to consult the oracle a second time. He'll vanish along the way, never to return—just as Laius.

OEDIPUS : Were you born so treacherous, mother, or did life teach it you?

JOCASTA : You would have me apologize for showing a survival instinct for my family?

OEDIPUS : I myself might feel shame for a heart colder than stone.

JOCASTA : Says the man who murdered my brother! I say you should think me warm indeed. Did you not feel it inside of me?

OEDIPUS : I wonder.

JOCASTA : We must stop this bickering! Consider what's next.

OEDIPUS : When I sharpen my eyesight everything blurs.

JOCASTA : What's that doublespeak?

OEDIPUS : Tiresias lives.

JOCASTA : But who would brag of listening to him? Those who don't scorn him show him ridicule. He's chosen to live outside the city, so why would any citizen lift a finger to protect him? Who loves the person who insults them? No, son, Tiresias cannot hurt us. Why do you speak of him?

OEDIPUS : (silent)

JOCASTA : If you love your wife you will lift that sword and run it through the old fool.

OEDIPUS : I wonder how a man may sneak up on someone who knows he's coming.

JOCASTA : How aimless you sound!

OEDIPUS : My eyes are sharp.

JOCASTA : Mind your mother!

OEDIPUS : Mind your husband!

JOCASTA : Darling. What would you have me do?

OEDIPUS : We must know what the old man knows. Till then what we know is nothing.

Tiresias is there, led by the hand of his young daughter, Manto.

TIRESIAS : I come to answer your plea.

OEDIPUS : Which one?

TIRESIAS : "Save me, save us."

JOCASTA : You've limped here on your cane to help the murderer?

TIRESIAS : I would say the "motherfucker". (to Oedipus) Do I hit the mark now?

OEDIPUS : What help can you offer?

TIRESIAS : None to Creon. Did I not tell you he wasn't your trouble?

OEDIPUS : What help?

TIRESIAS : Hear the deaf begging to hear!

OEDIPUS : Healing is needed here, but of a different sort from the city.

JOCASTA : (to Oedipus) Why do you say that?

TIRESIAS : (to Oedipus) You see now I've no care to be you?

OEDIPUS : (pauses) The king agrees.

TIRESIAS : Ha! To how many people am I speaking?

JOCASTA : What is going on here?

TIRESIAS : Oedipus, mother calls you.

OEDIPUS : You said this day would be destructive. I'm sure you didn't come here to watch.

TIRESIAS : You need not reach for that sword.

OEDIPUS : Speak then! What on your tongue is so pleasurable to my ears?

JOCASTA : (to Oedipus) I demand to know what's happening!

TIRESIAS : (smiling) Who may obey quicker—son or husband?

JOCASTA : I cannot abide the man. I am burning down this bedchamber after this. The air has been poisoned today.

Silence.

JOCASTA : I am utterly lost.

OEDIPUS : (to Tiresias) You didn't answer the Sphinx's riddle because you wanted me here. Why?

JOCASTA : What?

OEDIPUS : Stop talking!

TIRESIAS : You've schooled yourself since morning, but you're still an imbecile.

JOCASTA : This is unbearable.

OEDIPUS : Tell me then—you blind bastard—what don't I see?

TIRESIAS : One answer.

OEDIPUS : One answer?

TIRESIAS : The one answer to three questions will answer yours.

Darkness.

Oedipus alone.

OEDIPUS : What does that blind bastard see? Three questions, he said. Why didn't Tiresias answer the Sphinx's riddle himself? He left it for me to solve, and thereby win the kingship, who had no care for it (let the gods be my witness!). I am sure of the second question, too : Why did she give me up? Mother didn't want me—but my wife does. Is there any solace at all in that? Ah, gods! Why must I speak aloud, as if to an audience? What is happening? Who of me is speaking, and who is listening? Then there is the third, the third open eye, who watches the other two, and sees the split. And there are three of us : I, Jocasta, Tiresias. What is going on here? Continue, Oedipus, continue. What is the third question, the question you must ask yourself? Approach the problem in a different way. Which one answer answers the two questions I now know? The answer to the second is clear : Mother gave me up because she had no care for me. And the first answer may be just as clear : Tiresias didn't answer the riddle because, simply put, he didn't care to. So the answer to the three questions is "Care". (pause) So what is my question I must ask myself, the question that answers everything?

Darkness.

Jocasta is there, in bed.

JOCASTA : My king, you look unhappily lost in thought.

OEDIPUS : No, mother, I found my way back—after you gave me away.

JOCASTA : Yes, you came back to me.

OEDIPUS : Earlier you celebrated an empty heaven. I say shudder at it. For which is more absurd—order or coincidence? It doesn't matter—either one brought us to this. Confidence makes us a motherfucker.

JOCASTA : My goodness, this is the longest day I've lived through! So what if gods populate the sky. Are they worthy of us? There's nothing to them but self-interest. And they take pleasure in our idiocy!

OEDIPUS : They may yet take pleasure in our punishment.

JOCASTA : Punishment for what?

OEDIPUS : For anything.

JOCASTA : You rave on like that old fool. (pause) Do you know the answer he spoke of?

Oedipus gets into bed beside Jocasta.

OEDIPUS : I'm getting closer. (kissing her neck) The answer we seek is "Care".

JOCASTA : Mmmm. "Care". What do you think that means?

OEDIPUS : I don't know what thinking is anymore.

JOCASTA : (pushes him away) Then here's a word of education for you. How long did you think it would be before the news that you sought out one of our fieldhands was heard by all? Did you think the one we wanted would have stayed silent about what he knows?

OEDIPUS : What does he know?

JOCASTA : Nothing. He's dead. Along with the shepherd I gave you to.

OEDIPUS : Whose tracks are you covering, exactly?

JOCASTA : For one so lost in thought you're terribly thoughtless!

OEDIPUS : Am I? You gave me to a shepherd, who gave me to a slave, who gave me to my foster parents, Polybus and Merope. Is that thought strong enough for you? You made me fear them. My entire life, I feared what was kind to me, while everything I desired was poisonous!

JOCASTA : I made? I say it was your questionable interpretation of the oracle that decided your fate.

OEDIPUS : Questionable? (puts hands around her neck) My fate?

JOCASTA : Stop that! Let me go!

OEDIPUS : Let you go? Go where? Where do you want to go?

JOCASTA : Son! Husband! Oedipus! Stop!

OEDIPUS : First tell me I fuck better than father!

It dawns on Oedipus, breathing hard, that Jocasta is dead.

OEDIPUS : (loudly) Servant!

SERVANT : Yes?

OEDIPUS : Bring the children here.

SERVANT : Yes, sir.

Darkness.

Oedipus
What is this life that I am living through?
What plan works through me, decided long ago
and meant to motivate generations to come?
If this is true, what is a person worth
if there is no idea where it all leads,
regardless of a concentrated gaze?
So what is it to be responsible,
when everything known is wrong from the start?
And Destiny? No matter what direction
I took, my route would always have ended
here? So all my vaunted intelligence
are indeed thoughts of an imbecile. But
now I'm awake, and my eyes are so wide
they're liable to fall out. Don't make me
do it. Who says that inside me? No, no.
I don't know. Now you know you never knew.
Destiny took me where I had to go,
for obscurities I will never know.
So we the living sacrifice ourselves
for a future we know nothing about.
I'll show you how much you care, you bastards.

Oedipus blinds himself with Creon's sword.

Oedipus
Ah! Now I have rooted out the poison
from my body—the light of the sun, gone!
Now I'll educate myself. I will grope
my way like a very Tiresias
until I learn to see again. Inside
of me something cared enough to use me
to live, and it lived on light. It's dead now.
Known to all, understood by none, Oedipus
has left this body vacant, and is gone.
This has no name; "I" was lost with the light.
This now goes haltingly to start again.
Destiny wants This alive. To do what?
For what thing in the world is This to—care?
Perhaps the one saviour we have to save
the powerless from Destiny, is Care?
When I learn what care is, I will know This.

Darkness.

A spark of flame. The Chorus and Tiresias stand by the burnt wreck of the palace.


CHORUS : What happened?

TIRESIAS : The truth caught fire.

CHORUS : Have all the living burnt to ash in this abominable pyre?

TIRESIAS : See here, the children of the former king stand with me. Earlier I led them to safety, before the flames consumed the marriage bed.

CHORUS : Is our king dead?

TIRESIAS : The king is gone, and has taken the pestilence with him. Do you breathe easier? The air is clear.

CHORUS : O good king, you who loved the people, come back!

TIRESIAS : (smiles) Oedipus is not coming back. He's learned to care.

End.


Title: fun holiday movie 4 u
Post by: Scrooby on December 26, 2022, 05:15:48 PM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCFPQ-3hFsA
Title: Ice Castles : optimistic new year fun
Post by: Scrooby on December 28, 2022, 10:26:30 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ2UCGK0SnQ
Title: Ariadne’s thread
Post by: Scrooby on December 30, 2022, 06:37:43 AM
Now King Minos solemnly promised the god to sacrifice
a body of one hundred bulls, once the king touched foot to Crete,
and all his ships were landed, and Minos had decorated
his palace with all the spoils of his wartime victories.

The scandal of his mother's adultery spread far and wide,
however, as its repulsive issue, the two-shaped baby,
lay open to all. So Minos resolved to hide away
the disgrace, by prisoning it in a many-winding maze. 

Daedalus, famous artist, celebrated architect,
fabricated the work with much inbuilt confusion, leading
the eye into uncertainty, into error, into wandering
along hallways of ingenious digressions ever-changing.

Just so the liquid Maeander plays through the Phrygian land,
winding ambiguously so that stream runs alongside stream
till the waters see themselves flowing back into the waters :
Maeander at play uncertainly from source to open sea.

Daedalus, in just this way, perfected innumerable
intricacies in his maze; and so difficult was his work,
he barely extricated himself from his own creation.

Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII.152–68.
Title: One Reflection
Post by: Scrooby on December 31, 2022, 03:53:24 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e2/70/d1/e270d1dd8d930819346eaabcaa7892ed.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/80/eb/b4/80ebb400df98ec1731ae31e457d7f7ff.jpg)
Title: The Master : final "out of phase" ever?
Post by: Scrooby on January 01, 2023, 11:02:29 AM
For most of cinema history, the electrical production quirk known as "out of phase" was deemed a grave cinematographic error (in the same category as unanticipated lens flares). In later times, however, first-rate filmmakers employed this flickering-of-light effect as a technique to generate subliminal tension (or whatever else).

Examples :

1. Kubrick : A Clockwork Orange

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5e/88/54/5e885430dae1d8909c76afc2eee69602.jpg)

2. Fassbinder : Unfortunately I cannot remember which film, but it is an outdoor shot with house and trees.

3. Scorsese : Taxi Driver

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d9/4f/43/d94f43f2f14520f76e090442a069575c.jpg)

4. Kubrick : The Shining

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/09/79/05/097905dee05e0225a50dea70299f9075.jpg)

5. PTA : The Master

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a5/dc/b8/a5dcb8a2638f96ced7cbbe11e66430d8.jpg)

PTA's employment of the technique is the most visually subtle of these examples, requiring a large screen to discern the effect clearly.

Since "out of phase" is a celluloid phenomenon, is PTA's use the last of its kind . . . forever?



Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on January 01, 2023, 03:40:15 PM
Scrooby, your posts are insightful af and I appreciate reading more in the new year!

That said; celluloid will never die.
Title: The Master and "Against the Day"
Post by: Scrooby on January 03, 2023, 09:40:38 PM
"We fought against the day and we won."

What does this mean?

Rewritten by yours truly : "Only those who sail against the prevailing winds reach their destination."

Now what does that mean?

Whatever the world is thinking and feeling, don't think or feel that. Be Yourself and Stand Strong.

But don't take my word for it. Take the Master's.
Title: No Hateful Double
Post by: Scrooby on January 05, 2023, 03:14:13 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e0/54/88/e05488e8777897db501ff12bf6e74535.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c4/d0/81/c4d081b673bd73807240e9357092dd82.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/35/c7/99/35c799df1feeb9df94c9ca9147505032.jpg)

Double Indemnity (1944).
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on January 05, 2023, 11:48:39 PM
Quote from: Scrooby on January 03, 2023, 09:40:38 PM"We fought against the day and we won."

What does this mean?

Rewritten by yours truly : "Only those who sail against the prevailing winds reach their destination."

Now what does that mean?

Whatever the world is thinking and feeling, don't think or feel that. Be Yourself and Stand Strong.

But don't take my word for it. Take the Master's.

It feelz pertinent to note too that Pynchon has used this phrase  (https://against-the-day.pynchonwiki.com/wiki/index.php?title=Against_the_Day_Title)as well
Interestingly this phrase applies to photography, too!

QuoteContre-Jour is French for "against the day" or "against the daylight" and is a photographic term, as well, a technique where the photographer shoots into the light so that the subject is in silhouette.
Title: "Minty"
Post by: Scrooby on January 06, 2023, 04:59:54 AM
"Minty"

Do we understand what this means here? When the Master extols the taste of the cigarette handed him by Freddy, following their first recorded session together?

1. Taste is of the physical world. The Master is of the mind. (Freddy appeals to the Master, for one reason, because Freddy takes the Master out of his head and into the physical world. (Note, for example, how after the Master meets Freddy, he goes "A-roving".))

2a. It is very funny, a spectator getting a "backstairs peep" of a genius : a personal taste, an intimate exchange, something that will never reach history books, a snapshot of the quiet personal life of a larger-than-life character : A moment that reduces a titanic mind down to a pleasantly ordinary human being interacting.

2b. "Why am I funny?" (a) the contrast between titanic and ordinary; (b) the titanic mind is just another person equal to the next (consonance : with the spectator).

3. Of mildly amusing interest to this site : We agreed that 2007 was one of Hollywood's last greatest years. One of the major movies of that year features this line of dialogue early on : "It was minty."
Title: We Gotta Get to Sophocles : a comedy starring Sophocles
Post by: Scrooby on January 08, 2023, 09:35:44 AM
We Gotta Get to Sophocles : a comedy starring Sophocles

Scene 1

Ancient Greek audience leaving outdoor theater after a performance.

A : What did you think of it?

B : I was bored, but at least I was sitting by a beautiful woman. You?

A : Holy shit, I want a copy of that play! I need a copy of that play!

B : How do you expect to get that? You don't just walk up to Sophocles. He's one scary bastard. He's as liable to kill you as smile.

A : Really?

B : You heard of the drama critic Clytas?

A : No.

B : Of course not. Sophocles killed him.

A : Oh.

B : He's the cruellest motherfucker you ever met and he's one of the good guys. Why do you want the manuscript of Oedipus? You just saw it.

A : How can I get that manuscript?

B : Why is it so important to you?

A : You'd never understand.

B : What?

A : My wife says she's leaving me if I don't write the next prize-winning play.

B : What does the manuscript of Oedipus have to do with that?

A : I told you you wouldn't understand.

B : Make me understand.

A : I study that play in detail, word for word, I write next year's prizewinner!

B : Okay.

A : So how do we get our hands on the manuscript?

B : What about the actors?

A : No. Once they commit it to memory, Sophocles burns all the copies. Everyone knows that.

B : You got to get into his house.

Sophocles walks up briskly, talking to a circle of fans. A and B join the moving crowd.

S : Some dumb bitch said to me, "You can't tell me how to raise my kids." So I answered her, "Why the fuck not?"

C : Very wise, master.

S : Just think of it. When you're kissing a woman, really tonguing her, she might have a long strand of fecal matter coiled up in her like a stinky fetus.

D : I see, master.

S : Don't forget the road of Right is reckless.

D : I hear, master.

S : Doesn't matter, though. You're fighting for survival for a position you've lost anyway.

E : Thank you, master.

Z : Any advice, great Sophocles?

S : Do what you want, then kill yourself before the regret sets in. Thereby you'll have a happy ending.

G : Extraordinary wisdom, master.

S : Fuck you and your "extraordinary". I'll put you in a place where sympathy doesn't matter.

G : Thank you, master.

S: Something's chasing you and it's up ahead. Thank me for that, too, asshole.

G : Thank you, master.

S : Why is man cruel? Life makes us cruel, because life kicks us until we lose our wits, and we become as cornered dogs.

H : We're dogs, master.

S : Since we're smarter than dogs : want nothing—then you can have it all.

I : We'll have nothing, master.

S : Always remember what Homer said : People are full of shit.

A interrupts.

A : Master—

S : Fuck off.

A : Please!

S : Get the fuck away from me before I kill you.

A : Hear me!

S : I've heard everything.

A : But—!

S : I'm killing you.

A : Okay!

A stops, and Sophocles and crew recede.

A : What a foul-mouthed asshole.

B : We caught him on an especially bad day.

A : I need that manuscript!

B : You got to get into his house.

A : How do I do that? The man doesn't want to know me!

B : You're good with the ball, aren't you?

A : What are you sewing in your head?

B : He's always at the gymnaseum on Thursday mornings. Perform well with the ball and he might challenge you to a game.

A : Good idea.

B : Here's the thing. Beat him.

A : What? Beat the great Sophocles?

B : Beat him. Then he'll respect you. Lose, in his eyes you're filth.

A : How am I supposed to beat the guy who's known at the best ball handler in Greece?

B : I don't know. But if you beat him, you get the manuscript of Oedipus. Maybe.

A : Maybe?

B : What do you mean, "maybe"? Once you're in the house, you got to get the manuscript, get it out of the house, then return it before he finds it missing.

A : How do I do that?

B : Why do I have to figure out everything? But if you get it out, bring it to Jeff, he's the fastest copyist in this part of the city. I've seen him work. He can copy two plays at once, one in each hand.

A : A pencil in each hand, writing two plays?

B : And not at the same rate of speed either—I've seen it.

A : All right. That's the plan.

to be continued

A comedy starring Sophocles : We Gotta Get to Sophocles
Title: The Master : Initial Thoughts
Post by: Scrooby on January 10, 2023, 05:08:42 PM
The following is randomness about The Master. Initial thoughts "before thinking". One has to start somewhere.

1a. The two male characters are two sides of the Artist. Freddy is the outlaw (freedom). The Master must operate within a complex of societial irritations (i.e., "people").

1b. Such as a film director. "Freddy" can write the script on his own. "The Master" is the Director of the production.

2. These two characters, while seemingly polar opposites, may each contain more of the other than one might think.

3. There are a number of shots/moods conveying the isolation of the Master (even within his tight social surround). This may be one aspect (of many) of his consonance with Freddy.

4. Freddy is a Hero without a Destination. "Hero Without a Cause". The Master has a "Cause". But what is his Destination? (Especially when he seemingly takes a step back, by publishing old work.)

5. Freddy consciously / continuously ruins situations for himself. Ruins, or threatens. What Freddy doesn't do is protect his position. This recklessness is, well, Artful : Worthwhile Art results from Recklessness. (Theory : Recklessness is antinomical to the Second-Rate?)

6. Recall Freddy and the Master in jail. One is destructive; the other, practical : Two sides of a person, in Tyranny.

7a. Why care about the "practical" when swamped by Tyranny, except that one has a family to protect? At first, the Master creates his work to Move Knowledge Forward; then the creation of Art becomes a fight for survival.

7b. Freddy follows his own path. Similarly, at the end of the film, the Master will even leave his family, Freddy–like, Roy Neary–like, and head off to China. Apparently Freddy is an "alternate" path The Master could have taken in life. (Intensifying the point that Freddy is an aspect of the Artist.)

8. Colossal point to consider : the final words of that 1930s star-song : "all to myself alone".

Best wishes, all. Be strong and stand tall. This is ἀλήθεια. Thus spake the Master.
Title: Xixax's Book Club : "The Ultimate Sacrifice" (from Iliad)
Post by: Scrooby on January 18, 2023, 07:12:31 PM
"The Ultimate Sacrifice"

First to fall of the Achaeans as the Trojans forced their way
forward toward Patroclus was a leader of the Boeotians,
Peneleos. He had never failed but to fight at the front,
but now he was sent out of the field with a wounded shoulder.
A spear thrown by someone had incised a bloody scratch there,
then wild-fighting Polydamas had leapt in with his sword,
and with one hammer-blow deepened the scratch all the way
to the bone. Polydamas sprung away to wound the next man,
and Peneleos returned to the ships, passing by Hector
grappling with Leitus in close combat. Leitus' two hands
fluttered around his body as he sought to ward off the blows
from Hector's fists : then Hector drew sword. Leitus' eyes grew wide,
but he still didn't see the strike come to him, so quick it was.
But the wound he received seemed trifling. Yet this smallest of wounds
on his wrist left Leitus unable to brandish a weapon;
and Hector smiled at his little victory, and left Leitus
alone after that. So Leitus, great-hearted Alectryon's son,
had to sheepishly withdraw from the battlefield, scurrying
in fear on his way to the ships, for his right hand was useless.
And while Hector was smiling, a tremendous spear struck
him in the chest, thrown from the hand of mighty Idomeneus.
The spear-point bounced off Hector's breast-plate and the shaft shattered
into pieces, and all Trojan fighters nearby shouted in inextinguishable fury.
A Trojan then tossed Hector a spear, and the moment he caught it,
Hector cast it at Idomeneus, who was coming straight
for him in a chariot; but the driver turned the horses,
and took the spear himself, even Coeranus, close friend
of the bloodthirsty one Meriones, whom Coeranus
had followed out of the city of Lyctus to come to war.
Just moments before, Coeranus had seen mighty hero
Idomeneus on foot, and invited him into the chariot-box.
So when the spear came in, which would had unhappily given
Hector the victory, Coeranus knew what he had to do.
The warrior made the ultimate sacrifice for the good
of the army, and fell at the hands of Hector Man-Killer.
The spear shattered his face, and let no more be said about it.
So he tumbled backwards out of the chariot. And before
even Idomeneus knew what was what, Meriones
had leapt into the chariot-box beside him, grabbed the reins,
and turned the sleek-muscled horses round. And he said to his friend :
"Whip the horses all the way to the ships! We need more armour,
more men, and more weapons. How can fortunes keep changing
so quickly? What is going on?"

To this Idomeneus could offer no answer. So they
rushed off the field of battle, with fear falling on their hearts.

*

Entire book here absolutely free (attachment not working) : https://www.odysseyandiliad.com/


Title: Being Here
Post by: Scrooby on January 22, 2023, 05:43:06 AM
The film Being There (1979) is a major work, equivalent (in the words of Hunter S. Thompson) to "an eerie trumpet call over a lost battlefield". Coming near the end of the film is a moment of striking nihilism, which might, therefore, be otherwise called Truth. The moment involves the character type of the Onlooker. The Onlooker is a story fundamental (not to say the Onlooker character appears in every story). The Onlooker sees events from the side of things, and the Onlooker's summating understanding will never enter history, but die with that character. With the death of that character, all the evidence required for understanding the story at hand is lost forever. In Being There, the Onlooker is the character of the Doctor, who says little, but, as a Doctor, and therefore a symbol of Logic and Reason, sees "all", and continuously calculates it. In the moment in question, the nihilist moment of Truth near the end of Being There, the Doctor, responding to one last witnessed action of the main character of the story (Peter Sellers), says to himself, "I understand." Now, this "I understand" is in the vibe of "Yes! Finally! All the pieces are put together! VICTORY!" But—then, like a character in Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey into Night, the Doctor hears himself and reevaluates his position; and repeats his words , but now in a vacant manner : "I understand." What does this second "I understand" convey? The second "I understand" conveys that the doctor knows that no one else will ever understand (because only the Onlooker has "all" the pieces), so : Understanding is Useless. Understanding means nothing. (Get over it.) What a moment. You either understand this moment in Being There or you don't. But, good news : Time teaches a person about life. So if you don't understand Art now, let's say you're not supposed to understand now. But maybe one day. That's one amazing aspect of Art, a source of its Colossal and Endless power : you don't have to understand it too soon. You can keep returning to it, and you gain in power as you go. And this recollected moment physically hurt (for only a fleeting moment, thank god) because it made this author think of what sort of artist Hal Ashby was, and the world he represented : the same world the late Owen Roizman lived through, but in less wacky and tragic circumstances.
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on January 22, 2023, 06:15:25 PM
"What the hell is it about?"
"Are you a special agent sent here to ruin my evening and possibly my entire life?"
"Do you have a gun?"
"Stop playing this game!"
"What precisely is the nature of my game?"

What the going on here? An argument between a man and a woman. Between Authentic Artist and not-Authentic Artist. What is going on? Too much is going on. But let us pick out one or two items to think on, because one must start somewhere.

1. "Do you have a gun?" Let us put aside the WW2 motif, because I am not allowing its integration just here. So :

1a. A gun kills. ("You here to kill me?") If we approach the narrative as a construction of the strongest contrasts possible (making for the most dramatic scene possible, arguably, theoretically, and following the structure of Oedipus), then we hear this line, at least in one way, as ingenuous of true fear of utter elimination : true fear of death by murder.

1b. This could be defined as "paranoia". But it is not so simple. There is nothing simple of the mind of the Authentic Artist (weird syntax intentional). The Artist has a fear based in fact: there will be enemies, or whatever, who will rejoice if his entire world collapsed. After all, the story takes place in London. So, the fear itself of destruction from the outside is not paranoia, but a reality for the Artist.

1c. At this moment in the narrative, the real, ongoing irritation called "people" and their imbecility-threat to the Artist rears up at its most real to him : he fully faces the threat of his destruction. (Whatever it is, it's looking him in the eyes.) At other times, this threat is a low-level irritation, something academic, even ordinary (ha); and so on. But sometimes, like here, "sh*t gets real."

1d. But. What is the mind? Silly question. So the Artist's fear, while real, yet conveys the Child in him. The Child enduring as component of Authentic Artist. So, somehow, while the Artist believes what he is saying : ("You here to kill me?") (btw, 1930s utterance) : at the same time : everything is a "game". (This last phrase obviously requires explanation elsewhere.)

1e. Game. . . . Regression. . . . Mother. . . .

1f. Everything is mixed up. Prose as intricate as space shuttle engines is required to explore this scene.

2. Alma has no idea how the Authentic Artist's mind works. None. Zip. How could she? Can anyone know someone else's mind? Obviously the answer to that question is "no".

3. Random :

3b. "nature" : interesting word, considering Alma is connected with "nature" throughout the duration of the narrative (e.g., wallpaper in her room; the Artist feeling "butterflies" in the hours before their initial meeting).

3c. "Are you a special agent sent here to ruin my evening and possibly my entire life?" = "It could cost me my life, and possibly yours." (EWS) (Theory : this equivalence is no coincidence.) When you integrate with a mate, you learn, possibly too late, whatever you learn. Hopefully you learn you have arrived at a good marriage. A good marriage is one is which the one person reinforces the best in the other person, day by day; and thereby both get stronger endlessly. Any other integration is destructive. At the start, every marriage is a gamble.—Or, why not just say : any move is a gamble. Each human move is a degree of a gamble.

3d. The comic element in Phantom Thread : "Are you a special agent sent here to ruin my evening and possibly my entire life?" Consider the striking contrast in this line. This humor is part of the wondrous triple-tone vibe of Phantom Thread. The triple-tone (explained above) is a product of the first-rate, absolutely no question.

3e. Reticent to continue. What a scene.
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on January 23, 2023, 10:10:49 AM
3f. "Hell" : recall the skylight (the Oedipus Eye-light) crowning the Establishment : shining high. The passageway with the creepy self-opening door (as in Hitchcock's Harry, and Shampoo; also recalling a running joke about a squeaky door in Tati) may, therefore, just for the sake of it for now, be designed a "Hell" (e.g., the exit into a backstairs world of dim glum brick alleyways, haunt of the whatnot of the economically challenged and the droning and the lost to history).

3g. "special agent" : recalls : WW2 : a Child's game : espionage pictures, such as Hitchcock's Secret Agent (1936) and Fritz Lang's Spies (1928). But let us return to "a Child's game"—regression. Panic destabilizes; panic is regressive. Ah, the End of Part 1 of PT : there, anxiety and tension wreck control (in a measured English manner, tee hee). Ah, the two sequences (fashion show / surprise dinner) are closely associated by the appearance of anxiety, tension, panic, etc.

3h. Within the infinity of interpretations of what we see, one is : Woodcock is simply "having her on" : simply playing a game. This simplest of paths is absurd, considering nothing in life is "only one thing". Yet if we follow this reductive thinking anyway, since we're not watching life, but a movie, we might still pump up the volume of the simplicity by imagining the Artist losing his way amid his game in his head, due to panic, until he reaches a point in which he realises he has no idea what he is doing. He becomes lost in his own labyrinth of "Who am I?" Or, "How many people am I?"

3i. The use of the word "possibly" might be heard as a reasonable suspicion of the "sane", or a panicked apprehension of the not-"sane", or . . . 

3j. Contrast of "nature" and "game".

3k. "Stop playing this game!" Who might articulate this demand the most times in a person's lifetime? A mother?

3l. General point of the commentator : All effort into understanding first-rate dialogue is blazing a pathway into the Unstated.
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on January 23, 2023, 06:38:53 PM
What the hell is it about?
What is "it" precisely? What if the Artist is speaking to himself? (Isn't all speech always also a speaking to oneself?) We will never know the "it" on the mind of the Artist. We can, however, theorize to our heart's content.

Are you a special agent sent here to ruin my evening and possibly my entire life?
The Artist is regressing. What if by regressing the Artist is welcoming the return of the Child in him? (Such as, for example, when a certain climate steers a person's recollections to a sweet time of the past.) So, here, the Artist, while outwardly antagonistic and whatever else, somewhere inside him is welcoming this anxious regression to the past, because it was in that enchanted time, now forever lost, where he lived with his mother, and learned his trade, and all was new, and so on and so forth. Forever lost : but here is a mother-surrogate staring into his eyes, and giving him license to act the child.

Why are you so rude to me? Why are you talking to me like this?
In organizing the surprise dinner, Alma was endeavouring, in her mind, a sweet, loving intervention. But her "sweet, loving intervention" is also a sudden, utter upheaval of Structure. Structure to an Artist is Air to a Heart. Can what she herself did in any way also be defined as "rude", regardless of however else it might be defined?

Is this my house? This is my house, isn't it? Is this my house?
Good question. Might it be the haunted house of his mother? (Is the Artist trapped inside the fairy-tale palace just as Alma is?) Or might the house be the business establishment of his sister, who employs the Artist, so that the Artist lives at his place of work, so to speak, and is not King there, but Slave? Or : The Artist is both king and slave together. And so on and so forth. 

BONUS : Insert "mind" in that last line of dialogue to create "Is this my mind?", and the necessity for complexity of thinking and writing "carefully" on the Surprise Dinner Scene intensifies.
Title: Thread Phantom Thread
Post by: Scrooby on January 24, 2023, 06:44:46 AM
Or did somebody drop me on foreign soil.
Cancel Woodcock, cuz this line can be heard as a slur.

What a question!
A nice line. So simple and real; Greekly nice. Real life in Literature.

Behind enemy lines?
(a) "lines" : as in, say, "lines of dialogue"?
(b) Perhaps Woodcock was captured, too, just as Alma's parents were, by the Nazis? Alma's entire post-WW2 afterlife is one long ever-changing PTSD. Perhaps Woodcock's is the same! We the Spectator know nothing of his war years except that he rescued lace.

I'm surrounded on all sides.
(a) That's true enough, whatever the degree of "sanity".
(b) sustains genre (e.g., war movies, those espionage pictures).
(c) The "I" is surrounded by everything mistaken for the "I", for a lifetime.

It's you who brought me here.
Yeah, but no. Like everything in life.

When the hell did this happen? Who are you?
Dissociation. "Mask of Sanity" falls, knocked away by anxiety, revealing Abyss. An Abyss that is empty until it is filled by Definition. (hell : a wisp of his world—pious London.)

Do you have a gun? You here to kill me? Do you have a gun?
(a) 1930s. (b) Regression. (c) Paranoia. (d) Intensification of True Concern/Fear. (e) Gun : WW2. (f) (Superior Force Reduces Other Regardless : and so it is.)

Stop it!
"You started it!" a child might say. She turned it on, now she wants it off. Clap on, clap off. 

Where's your gun? . . . Where's your gun?
Reduced to repetition. Like a lobotomised HAL-9000. Repetition compulsion.

Stop being a child.
(a) What a line! This is a human Speech Act in action, for sure. Consider : the speaker Defines, then Denunicates. The denunciation is founded in the confidence of the definition, which, however, is based on nothing substantial.
(b) A child loves treats. Isn't this what this dinner supplies . . . for both?
(c) A child loves dress-up. Isn't Alma the one dressed for a party?
(d) A child loves surprises, such as surprise parties and Christmas-morning presents : this dinner party might be an analogue of, wow, think of it, an Alma birthday party!

Stop playing.
The first tells the other to stop doing what the first is doing : such is life, moment by moment, person by person.

What precisely is the nature of my game?
An authentic Artist? The answer is Destiny. That's the only confident answer (ha).
Title: Rainbow Thread
Post by: Scrooby on January 29, 2023, 12:38:46 PM
In EWS, the "end of the rainbow" is Death. This thematic meaning is communicated through a two-minute-long lens flare. All this has been spoken of here. Also previously spoken of here is the appearance, therefore, of a rainbow lens flare at a significant moment in PT. But have we all noticed how many rainbow lens flares are in this consequential scene?

Watch the film (hard to see them here) and start counting!

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/af/fb/dd/affbdd06b8aa66d9f68d6316ddd1e263.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/74/43/e7/7443e71b455999987b8eb7dc0fb9355a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/25/ce/92/25ce920d48a64d28469d8b5f2225cf85.jpg)

What inspired me to post this was the following amazing shot : as complicated a shot that Hollywood can produce!

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/f5/96/ccf5969dc297065589b7ae8ba78efe0c.jpg)

PTA has now entered the contemporary Amazing Lens Flare shortlist!

Awesome. Best wishes.
Title: There Will Be Editing
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 03:39:27 PM
This editing :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a1/ae/8c/a1ae8cf664c92bdaf44db5fadfd64673.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d8/36/7c/d8367cd90e5685e06ee2161a36842e00.jpg)

demonstrates, absolutely no question, right off the bat, PTA really understands what he's doing.

And reminds me of this editing moment in The Departed :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/81/f2/7b/81f27b91d1e2b0d07e64cca1110d09d3.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/64/30/66/643066fc92b931fda0033ebb8391e87b.jpg)

but for the interesting effect of the precision geometrical progression to work in these cases, these moments need to be watched within the films. Point to wonder about? : The wondrous editing effect is completely effaced in jpg.

Title: There Will Be Massive Metaphor
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 04:10:34 PM
think about the metaphors :

A seeker falls into a deep hole and is damaged. He looks up to the light. Perhaps for a moment death becomes a very real possibility. But then the gift of the Artfulness is revealed to him, and he finds the strength to rise, escape, and live.

Live all the way until the bowling alley. Wait a minute : . . . a bowling alley?

Remind anyone of a pool table?

EWS.

Coincidence?

Just as the monolith transitions from a vital seeking to learn and survive (in 2001: A Space Odyssey), to a pool table where one "knocks a few balls around" (idle nihilism),

so in There Will Be Blood

the progression moves from overcoming a life-and-death situation through force and will . . . to a desk ("You mean, sit behind a desk, chair-borne?" : James Stewart, Vertigo), and a Big Lebowski-type bowling alley.

("There's a bowling alley in the cellar." Sunset Boulevard)

New resonances. . . . Keep watching, keep thinking. . . .



Title: There Will Be . . .
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 04:27:36 PM
Daniel Plainview's associate at the well. This associate aids a light-headed Plainview, then seemingly corrects him at another time (when he points at the paperwork?). The child is left without the father, just as Plainview is left without the associate. . . .
Title: There Will Be Water
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 04:39:24 PM
At the end : When Plainview picks up the glass bottle and swallows a lot of water, that is a very strong signal that death is coming. Because Plainview is waking himself up, stimulating himself for the attack. The technique of drinking water to wake up was communicated as a helpful hint in the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, who advised drinking three glasses of water fast if one wanted to remain awake for an extra duration of time.

No . . . I am not saying that Plainview must have read Franklin.
Title: There Will Be Spittle
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 05:27:32 PM
"DRAINAGE!" That tasty droopy spittle recalls Jack's when waking from the dream in The Shining.

Both recall the ape wigging out with the bone discovery in 2001 : A Space Odyssey.

Title: There Will Be Oil and Water
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 05:32:20 PM
oil on lens : 11:44

water on lens : 2:27:07
Title: There Will Be a Hammering
Post by: Scrooby on February 01, 2023, 05:34:53 PM
Plainview opening Eli's skull at the end : does it evoke the associate's death early in the film, or not?
Title: There Will Be Kane
Post by: Scrooby on February 02, 2023, 06:06:17 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/5c/55/455c55a234d2b0e4afcc9771c05d20d9.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/91/bb/a7/91bba7ada15880f908eda2c4ff8b9e2a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5d/bf/3c/5dbf3c43858ca896b655447933170d47.jpg)
Title: Life or Death Situation : the Rainbow Lens Flare
Post by: Scrooby on February 03, 2023, 10:47:29 AM
EWS, 1:57:42–1:59:21

and

PT, 1:52:49–1:54:36

Note the similar running times.

BONUS: Rainbow lens flare appears in life-or-death situation in Dunkirk : 39:29.
Title: Nolan wrote a script on Howard Hughes?
Post by: Scrooby on February 06, 2023, 04:25:39 AM
THE AMAZING YEAR : 1938

 

Aviator Howard Hughes had been named America's Greatest Pilot for 1936, and had already proven himself to be America's Greatest Pilot for 1937. But Hughes, described by the New York Times as "millionaire sportsman pilot" and "a playboy with a purpose", wouldn't be satisfied until he attempted the grandest aviation challenge of them all, the speed record for an around-the-world flight.[1]

 

THE ROUND-THE-WORLD FLIGHT OF 1938. After carrying out a series of rigorous flight tests, Hughes was certain that neither his DC-1 nor S-43 were suitable for a round-the-world flight, so he went looking for yet another passenger plane.[2] Thus would begin Hughes' long and fruitful professional relationship with the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation of Burbank, California. Hughes acquired a Lockheed Model 14 Super Electra twin-engine transport for $60,000 on May 20, 1938.[3]

 

Lockheed's Model 14 first flew on July 29, 1937. More advanced than the DC-2 yet a little smaller, the Super Electra had a wing span of 65 ft 6 in; an area of 551 sq ft; and, ordinarily, its fuselage could carry up to fourteen passengers. It was the first production-line airplane to use Fowler flaps (which, when extended, increased wing area to allow for a shorter take-off distance; and which, when lowered, increased wing area to increase drag on approach).

 

The plane that Lockheed delivered to Hughes was custom-built to his specifications and given special model number 14-N2. Two extra fuel tanks had been set in the center of the fuselage to make six fuel tanks in total, more than doubling the plane's fuel capacity to up to 1,844 gallons. The two Curtis-Wright GR-1820-6102 engines, each capable of 1,100 horsepower, had been built especially for Hughes' plane.

 

The plane would be promptly refitted for a fifteen-thousand mile flight. From late May to early July, Glenn Odekirk oversaw the internal and external modification of the Model 14-N2 at the Hughes Aircraft Company site in Burbank. The operation was carried out amid great secrecy. The plane was changed to the extent that the only real resemblance to a Lockheed Super Electra that remained was the shape of the airframe. Before team leader Odekirk and Hughes' other engineers at Burbank were through, Hughes' Super Electra became the most technically-advanced private airplane in the world.

 

Hughes' souped-up Model 14 had a potential cruising speed of 235 mph, with a range of 4,700 miles nonstop. The engines had been altered to hold 150 gallons of oil. A complex oxygen supply system was installed. The exterior paint was sanded down to cut down glare. Inside the cockpit, the navigation instrumentation installed by Hughes' engineers was state-of-the-art. There were directional gyros and artificial horizons (built by Sperry); two radio compasses (built by Kolsman and Pioneer), one to home in on radio beams, the other to triangulate position using ship or shore stations; the Fairchild-Maxon Line-of-Position computer (built by Fairchild Aviation); and other navigation equipment (built by Longines). Only recently introduced, the "Sperry Gyro Pilot" was an early automatic pilot, automatically maintaining pitch attitude and precise direction when cruising at between 10,000 and 15,000 feet. The cockpit's array of state-of-the-art piloting, navigation, and radio equipment was second-to-none. Time magazine called it "the most foolproof private plane that ever flew." Once again had Hughes realized an airplane of the future. The Super Electra was given a nickname earlier used for Hughes's thoroughly modified DC-1—the "flying laboratory".[4]

 

Three years had been spent in meticulous planning for the globe-girdling flight.[5] Various countries of the world would have to be involved, most prominently Canada, Holland, Great Britain, France, Germany, and the Soviet Union. The flight would be as much an organizational feat as an aerial one.

 

Hughes and his meteorological team headed by W. C. Rockefeller had gathered maps, including some from the Navy's Hydrographic Office, the United States Coast Guard, and National Geographic magazine, and traced out a route for the flight. Hughes would fly the "great circle course", circumnavigating the upper reaches of the northern hemisphere.[6]  Through Albert I. Lodwick, Hughes' flight operations manager and main representative for the project, permission was obtained to land in various countries such as France and Soviet Russia. Maps of Soviet territory were supplied by the Soviet Embassy. Permissions to land in other European countries were also arranged in case of emergency. A vast network of radio communications centers was coordinated throughout many of the countries of the northern hemisphere. Blueprints of his customized plane were sent to various foreign landing sites so native mechanics would have advance knowledge in case emergency servicing was needed. Extra fuel supplies were arranged to be available at the airstrips. For two weeks leading up to the flight, Rockefeller and his team of meteorologists collected and analyzed weather data from all points along Hughes' northern route.[7]

 

Flying around-the-world was a dangerous prospect. Wiley Post had recently crashed and burned in an attempt to outdo his first solo global flight of July 1933. Two years after Post's untimely death, Amelia Earhart disappeared over the South Pacific during her own attempt in 1937. Furthermore, Edwin Musick, another of the world's most famous pilots—having flown from San Francisco to Manila, winning him the Harmon trophy in 1935, and then from San Francisco to New Zealand in 1937—was killed when his Pan American flying boat, the Samoan Clipper, exploded in flight over the South Pacific on January 11, 1938. Hence, before the flight, Hughes drafted a new will, once more leaving virtually his entire fortune to his proposed Medical Research Laboratories.[8]

 

In the days leading up to the daring flight the American media went into a frenzy of coverage. Howard Hughes the Aviator was big news. Several thousand spectators massed at Floyd Bennett Airfield in Brooklyn, New York, to witness Hughes fly in from Wichita, Kansas in the early evening of July 4. Opened in 1931, Floyd Bennett Field was New York City's first municipal airport, and through the 1930s many pioneering flights began or ended here. When the Lockheed-14 landed at 6:48 p.m., the crowd cheered in admiration. Flying across the country from the west coast, Hughes and his crew had tested the plane's fuel consumption, engine performance, radios, and other details. Hughes emerged from the cockpit in casual wear—"old gray coat, wrinkled trousers and a white shirt, badly frayed from wear, and a battered fedora hat", according to the New York Times. The plane was stored in Hangar 7. Some fervent aviation fans camped out in sleeping bags and tents on the outskirts of the airfield, not wanting to miss the take-off when it happened.[9]

 

As a goodwill gesture to the people of New York, Hughes had christened the Super Electra the New York World's Fair 1939. The theme of the international exhibition, which was in the process of construction in Flushing Meadows Park in nearby Queens, was "The World of Tomorrow".[10]

 

Over the next week, Hughes' ground crew—Carl Tieddemann, Gus Sidel, and Stanley Bell—went over the plane with an exacting eye. When the two engines were taken down and dismantled for inspection, it was discovered that the high-octane gasoline that Hughes had chosen had worn out the engines' cylinders during the flight east, so all eighteen cylinders were replaced. A magneto on one of the engines was also replaced.

 

Hughes was staying at a suite at the Drake Hotel on Park Avenue. During his week in Manhattan he met periodically with Katharine Hepburn at her friend's apartment on East 52nd Street. He also personally tested no less than 15 brands of bread to arrive at the most nutritious; then loaded the plane with ten pounds of ham and cheese sandwiches. Also a supply of canned goods; fifteen gallons of drinking water; three quarts of coffee; several quarts of milk; and frozen milk.[11] He had also sent the same kind of bottled water to all ten refueling stations along his global route so he and his crew wouldn't have to worry about drinking water.

 

Accompanying him on the flight would be a four man crew, each an expert in his field. Richard N. Stoddart, 38, radio engineer, had already served in that capacity for at least one of Hughes' experimental DC-1 flights of 1936-37. He took a leave of absence from NBC to join this latest adventure, and had built one of the transmitters for the Super Electra. Edward Lund, 32, engineer mechanic, had worked for Hughes since the outset of the proto-Hughes Aircraft Company in 1932. Harry P. McLean Connor, 39, navigator, had served as navigator for some historic aircraft flights, including the first New York to Bermuda nonstop flight in 1930. He was working as a navigator for the Department of Commerce when he got the call from Hughes. Thomas L. Thurlow, 33, navigator, was a career Army man who, just prior to the flight, was stationed at the Army Air Corps' base of operations at Wright Field, Ohio. He had innovated a special periscopic drift indicator to maintain aircraft position over water, as well as inventing what Hughes described as "the best type of sextant", both of which were used on the flight. The crew called Hughes "the chief".[12]

 

While Hughes diligently consulted and analyzed weather charts in the run-up to the flight, the entire plane was meticulously checked, fine-tuned, and readied-to-perfection. Supervising the mechanics, Glenn Odekirk worked for days without sleep. Finally the weather data suggested that the conditions were favorable for a flight. Before making his final decision, however, Hughes had awaited one final set of reports—which turned out to be favorable. To his crew Hughes commented, "Let's get off before something else happens."[13]

 

According to Hughes' orders, fueling of the Super Electra began at 2 a.m. on the morning of Sunday, July 10, 1938. The plane's fuel tanks were loaded with 1,500 gallons of gasoline, a little under capacity. On the morning of the flight, Hughes was driven with Hepburn in her chauffeur-driven family car to the airfield. "You'll be hearing from me, kiddo," he told her as he took his leave.[14]

 

An audience of ten thousand spectators had gathered to witness the event, many of whom had waited expectantly in place for over twenty-four hours, much of the time under a hot summer sun.[15] Grover A. Whalen, President and Commissioner General of the New York World's Fair, 1939, Incorporated, said a few words in dedication prior to take-off, describing the flight as "a dramatic and glorious undertaking" and a "vivid symbol of the possibilities of international cooperation."[16] Hughes addressed the respectful crowd during the pre-flight ceremony: "We hope that our flight may prove a contribution to the cause of friendship between nations and that through their outstanding fliers, for whom the common bond of aviation transcends national boundaries, this cause may be furthered."[17]

 

Hughes, who had evidently planned to be dressed in his customary flight attire—gray double-breasted suit and tie, with lucky fedora on top—chose to forgo the jacket and tie for comfort's sake. Photographers caught him looking casual and somewhat out of place in white shirt and dark trousers beside his four crewmembers all dressed in suits and ties.[18] He looked tired and his face was shadowed with stubble. The New York Times humorously described the millionaire's appearance as "the despair of America's tailors."[19] Funnier still was this assessment by the Brooklyn Eagle: "He looked like a bum who'd fallen off the turnip truck."[20] Adding to the idiosyncracy of the event, eighty pounds of ping-pong balls had been loaded into the hold of the Super Electra for ballast.[21]

 

The crew members said goodbye to their loved ones. "I'll be seeing you," Lieutenant Thurlow said to his wife, kissing her. Characteristically, no one close to Hughes personally was there to wish him well. Before the plane rolled away Mrs. Connor broke through the police cordon and stuck a wad of chewing gum to the tail. "For good luck," she said.[22]

 

Hughes, Lund, and Stoddart were be positioned up front, forward of the two interior fuel tanks set in the middle of the fuselage, while navigators Thurlow and Connor sat aft of the tanks, behind the wings.[23] The Super Electra was outfitted with so much gear that its five passengers would have barely enough room to move around. The plane carried oxygen tanks; ethyl to mix with ordinary fuel just in case; a solar still (to make seawater drinkable); a kite (to raise an emergency radio antenna); parachutes, flares, sleeping bags, life rafts; fishing tackle; hunting knife; shotgun; even a snakebite remedy. An air-suction commode had been installed. While the normal gross load of the Lockheed Model 14 was 17,500 pounds, Hughes' thoroughly modified version would carry an unprecedented 25,000 pounds gross load at take-off. The plane was so heavy that custom tires had to be supplied by Goodrich. Because the plane's weight at take-off was so high, the Civil Aeronautics Administration had given Hughes' aircraft an experimental registration, NX18973.[24]

 

The plane was also carrying some 300 letters addressed to various high officials of foreign governments contributing to the New York World's Fair; Hughes would mail these when he reached Paris. The official letter by Grover Whalen began: "Mr. Howard Hughes, aeronautical adviser to the New York World's Fair, on his epic-making transatlantic flight affords us an opportunity to send you this message of greetings and good-will . . ." Furthermore, Hughes was also taking with him up to 700 specially-stamped letters to be postmarked for philatelists duing his stops.[25]

 

Sitting in the cockpit, Hughes waved for the cameras and smiled as the two engines came alive. At 7:19:30 p.m. on July 10, the sleek, metal, twin-tailed Super Electra started down the 3,500-foot northwest-to-southeast runway, its silver fuselage glimmering spectacularly in the setting sun. The plane, carrying its 25,000 pounds of weight, lumbered down the runway and only slowly gained speed. "Daddy, good-bye, good luck, daddy!" yelled youngster Tommy, Jr., waving enthusiastically to his dad Lieutenant Thurlow.

 

Take-off would turn out to be a heart-in-the-throat moment. Runway was running out fast but the wheels were not yet lifting off. The heavy Super Electra ran off the end of the concrete runway and bumped along unpaved earth for 100 feet. The crowd of spectators held its collective breath. Amid a great cloud of dust the eight-ton plane lifted into the air, just over a field of red clover, at 7:20 p.m. The crowd broke out in cheers in admiration. The plane climbed slowly and banked northeast. Hughes dipped his wings toward Fenwick before heading out over the Atlantic.

 

Hughes said later that "taking off from Floyd Bennett Field" was, because of the heavy weight of the plane, "the most dangerous part of the flight. We had a wing load of forty-seven pounds to the square foot, the greatest wing load I have ever heard of." Once up in the air, Hughes had to increase the speed from 125 to 175 miles per hour "to keep from 'mushing'" (flying tail-heavy).[26]

 

If the flight had begun suspensefully at take-off, it would remain so for much of the first leg. Flying over eastern Canada by 10:00 p.m., Hughes and crew encountered thick mists and fog. Then one of the plane's antennas broke, and communication was suspended between midnight and 1:36 a.m. while the crew installed a new exterior antenna using an emergency hand reel. At 2:30 a.m., 220 miles off Newfoundland, warm air temperature coupled with the heavy weight of the plane forced Hughes to crank up the engines to maintain altitude. Higher horsepower meant faster fuel consumption. "I hope we get to Paris before we run out of gas, but I am not so sure," Hughes said into the radio.[27] As the weight of the plane lowered as fuel burned, Hughes throttled back the engine in increments accordingly. He remained in close contact with his flight control center at the New York World's Fair throughout the tense ocean crossing. Compounding the tension was the temperature inside the plane—90 degrees Fahrenheit. Luckily, the weather would clear over the Atlantic Ocean and favorable tail winds of up to 35 miles an hour would hasten the plane along.

 

The Super Electra's average speed between New York and Paris would be 220 miles an hour. Hughes remained at the controls for most of the time, while the other crew members took cat naps in turn. For much of the time the Super Electra flew above the clouds.

 

To reckon the position of the plane while flying over the dark Atlantic, Hughes remained in contact with more than a dozen transatlantic steamships at sea, including the SS Empress of Britain; SS Duchess of Richmond, SS Oslofjord; SS Empress of Australia; SS Batory; Ile de France. Hughes also kept in contact with the Radio Corporation of America's short-wave station at Riverhead, Long Island; and CBS's short-wave station at Wayne, New Jersey. Radio contact would be used to help reckon the plane's position as well as communicate up-to-the-minute weather reports from all points along Hughes' route. Saturn and Jupiter, prominent in the night sky, aided in celestial navigation, which was correlated to the radio data.[28]

 

By the latter stage of the Atlantic crossing, Hughes had dropped to 375 h.p. per engine, which managed to reduce the fuel intake from 45 gallons of fuel per hour per engine to 32½ gallons per hour per engine. "That's the whole story," Hughes said later. "It is the only way that plane could be stretched that far."[29]

 

Other potential problems were afoot. With Hughes already well into the flight, German officials communicated to Albert Lodwick, Hughes' flight operations manager stationed at the World's Fair site, that Germany had changed its mind and was now refusing the Hughes plane to enter its airspace. Lodwick spent tense hours responding to Berlin via telephone and cable, and would finally bring the Nazis round to their original thinking.[30]

 

Sixteen hours and thirty-five minutes after taking off from New York City Hughes and his crew were on the ground at Le Bourget Airport in Paris. The plane had covered 3,641 miles with only 100 gallons of gas left in the tanks. Having followed almost exactly the flight path of Charles A. Lindbergh's famous Atlantic crossing of 1927, Hughes had cut the time of Lindbergh's flight by half. (Moreover this first leg of Hughes' flight was the first successful non-stop New York to Paris flight since Lindbergh's.[31]) Greeting the fliers at the Paris airport was an assembled crowd of dignitaries including United States Ambassador William C. Bullitt, with whom Hughes shook hands upon debarking from the plane. A crowd of civilian onlookers, including women in evening dress, welcomed Hughes warmly. There was also a gang of newspaper correspondents capturing the details. Hughes, wearing his wrinkled gray suit and lucky brown fedora, was all business, coming across as polite but distant to the assembled crowd. He had originally hoped to leave Paris within two hours, but eight hours in all would be lost at Le Bourget while a repair was made to the tail-wheel of the plane.

 

Hughes later admitted that the damage had occurred upon taking off from Floyd Bennett Field. Edward Lund and a U.S. Army mechanic named Cook who happened to be at the airport went to work on the tail-wheel. Replacement parts were lent by Air France. Engineers of the French military as well as the Royal Dutch Air Line helped to repair and fine-tune the plane, while airport personnel carried out the refueling.

 

The crew was able to eat, take a sponge-bath, and rest at intervals during the maintenance operation. Hughes, however, obsessed as always, remained visibly at work for most of the time, going over weather charts, receiving telegrams, and taking phone calls from New York. He did, however, eventually disappear inside an airplane hangar to eat a quick meal of onion soup and half a steak.

 

When the plane was airworthy once more and brought out of the maintenance hangar, it was protected by a phlanx of black-helmeted Mobile Guards carrying rifles. They surrounded and walked with the plane as it rolled from hangar to the head of the airstrip. It was 12:24 a.m. Greenwich time when the plane finally took off from the floodlit airfield at Paris. As at Floyd Bennett Field, the heavy Super Electra rose only slowly off the airstrip, but Hughes, masterful pilot, was able to gain altitude and recapture the favorable tail winds which would speed him on in the direction of the Soviet Union.[32]

 

Leaving Paris, the Super Electra encountered poor weather so thick that Hughes turned off the lights and used the cockpit instrumentation to blind-fly the way forward. At one point Hughes brought the plane up to 16,000 feet, requiring the use of oxygen. Ice began forming on the wings, which didn't have de-icers. In a two-way broadcast with NBC, Hughes said, "We have flown blind from the moment we left Le Bourget. . . . We are using our oxygen supply very sparingly as the supply is limited."[33]

 

Hughes, travelling between Paris and Moscow, showed great panache by flying over Nazi Germany. From the first, Adolf Hitler had been wary of Hughes' flight, demanding that if Hughes flew over Germany he had to do so at the highest altitude possible. Hitler was paranoid that Hughes might take the occasion to take surveillance photographs of Germany's military build-up. When the Super Electra entered Nazi airspace, Luftwaffe war planes ascended to surround and escort Hughes' plane along a route selected for him by the German government.[34] Hughes was constrained to fly at around 12,000 feet for the duration of his progress over Hitler's domain. Though intimidating, Germany proved to be helpful; for five-and-a-half hours the German Broadcasting System relayed communications to Hughes, including weather reports, via four short-wave stations.[35]

 

The Super Electra would enjoy good weather from Berlin onward. Halfway to Moscow, Richard Stoddart reported in a short-wave broadcast subsequently aired over America's radio networks, that "We have just come through very heavy rain and icy conditions," he said, adding that their plan was to fly 200 miles an hour at 13,000 feet.[36]  Hughes was able to take a two-hour cat nap during the second half of the Paris-Moscow leg.

 

The radio equipment on the Super Electra and the international communications network that the Hughes team had organized were the most sophisticated and elaborate ever used on an airplane flight up to that time. Onboard the Super Electra, three two-way radios allowed Hughes to remain in contact with land throughout the duration of the flight. The call letters for the plane's standard radio was KHBRC. Hughes' navigators could pinpoint the plane's location at any time by using the data from special signals broadcast from radio stations around the world at regular intervals. There was a special radio, a never-before-used set only ten inches square built by the Hughes Tool Company; replete with dry-cell batteries offering four hours' reserve power, it was waterproof in case of emergency. The Federal Communications Commission allowed Hughes to use the call letters KHRH for the special radio, which was powerful enough to be able to communicate with flight headquarters no matter the location of the plane during the flight. Hughes could transmit messages in 17 different wave lengths and maintained 30 radio channels for emergencies alone.[37]

 

Hughes' flight headquarters were located in a room in the Business Systems Building at the New York World's Fair site. The Trylon, a 700-foot obelisk and one of the centerpieces of the World's Fair, doubled as an antenna for the time being. Four radiomen, head-sets affixed to their heads, remained in constant contact with Hughes and his crew, relaying weather information coming in from around the world and analyzed by the on-site five-man meteorlogical team. Heading the team of radiomen was Charles Perrine. W.C. Rockefeller headed the meteorological crew. Two other high-level Hughesmen monitoring the flight every step of the way were Glenn Odekirk and Albert I. Lodwick.

 

The flight operations room served as the hub of a global weather communications network. Stations in London, Amsterdam, Paris, Germany, and Soviet Russia remained on duty to receive and relay communications to-and-from the Hughes plane. Hughes' continous international weather forecasting center was a milestone in aviation, an early progenitor of the Flight Advisory Weather Service (FAWS) and the Enroute Flight Advisory Service (EFAS), both of the National Weather Service.

 

The Hughes flight was shaping up as the main news story across America, and turned out to be one of the major media events of the year. The three major radio networks—NBC, CBS, and Mutual—were continuously supplied with programs and comments direct from the Super Electra, and aired news of the flight whenever it arrived, as well as at hourly intervals.[38] Newspapers across the country printed up-to-the-moment Hughes news on its front pages for the duration of the flight. The New York Times would print upwards of three dozen stories on Hughes' round-the-world venture in July.

 

Howard Hughes was a clean-cut, if unlikely, media hero. He was described by the New York Times as "slightly deaf, extremely nervous and an indifferent dresser" and "one of America's most unprepossessing millionaires".[39] In appearance the 32 year old was tall, lanky, slightly stooped, shy in manner, reticent in speech; he was a non-smoker and less-than-moderate drinker; remote in comportment. But the life he was leading looked exciting and romantic, fit for an American fairy tale: Hollywood mogul; multimillionaire manufacturer; handsome heartthrob; conqueror of the heavens. The heroism in him was his courage, intelligence, vision, resolve, and independence. Through his aviation achievements in the 1930s he had proven himself to be much more than a "playboy pilot", a multimillionaire "dabbling" in an aviation hobby—Hughes was a serious contributor to the advancement of world aviation. The New Republic extolled Hughes' pioneering spirit, which proved that Hughes had "not allowed himself to be spoiled by inherited wealth."[40] Hughes' multifacted character contributed to his immense public appeal. Bartlett and Steele recalled the ambiguity of Hughes' character at the time:

 

Was he movie producer or pilot, aircraft designer or playboy, shrewd capitalist or lucky heir? He defied categorization. Whatever he was, Hughes was leading a highly individualistic life.[41]

 

The NBC, CBS, and Mutual radio networks relayed the news that Hughes landed at the Moscow Central Airport in Moscow at 11:15 a.m. Tuesday (4:15 a.m. New York time).[42] Hughes had flown from Paris to Moscow in 7 hours 51 minutes. Actual flying time between New York and Moscow was 24 hours, 26 minutes.

 

Emerging from the plane, Hughes announced, "Please refuel as quickly as possible because we would like to leave in twenty minutes."[43] Hughes and crew were greeted by Alexander C. Kirk, the United States Chargé d'Affaires, and other members of the embassy staff; as well as a number of Soviet officials, including the vice commander of the Soviet civil air fleet; and some famous Soviet fliers. The Soviets took photographs and marvelled at the plane. The crowd of spectators, however, was small. While the airplane was being refueled by the airport's ground crew, Hughes and his crew ate breakfast in an airport building. For their American guests the Soviets had provided such American fare as Kellogg's Corn Flakes, but Hughes requested to make do with a typical Russian breakfast, which included black bread. During the layover, Hughes made a radio broadcast for the United States and signed his name to a series of postcards to be sent back to America. He also delivered a letter from Constantine A. Oumansky, Soviet Chargé d'Affaires in Washington, to Alexander A. Tryoanovsky, Soviet Ambassador to the United States, at the time on leave in his native country. The personal letter contained clippings from American newspapers regarding the recent Major League Baseball All-Star game (July 6, 1938) and the Joe Louis-Max Schmeling heavyweight boxing title rematch (June 22, 1938).

 

The Super Electra remained grounded at Moscow for 2¼ hours. The Soviets supplied Hughes with up-to-the-minute weather charts for upcoming points along the route. The crew accepted a case of mineral water but had to refuse a gift of caviar because, as one member of the crew said, "every pound counts". When Hughes took his leave of the Russians and turned away toward his plane, the millionaire revealed a patch on the seat of his trousers, which amused the Russians very much.

 

Hughes started up the engines and taxied the Super Electra up and down the different runways for fifteen minutes until he decided on one. The crowd of onlookers shouted variations of "good luck" as the silver plane lifted into the air and flew off in the direction of the rising sun.[44]

 

7 hours and 30 minutes after taking off from Moscow, the Super Electra landed 1,380 miles away on a grass landing strip at the industrial city of Omsk in southwest Siberia. Between Moscow and Omsk Hughes had remained in constant radio contact with the ground as a result of what the New York Times described as the "unprecedented organization" of Soviet radio stations along the route, which broadcast special music at regular intervals to enable the plane to use its radio compass to maintain proper navigation. Hughes was in voice contact with the Soviets as well. A special code for communication between the English-speaking crew and the Russian-speaking communication stations had been established well in advance of the flight, so native languages wouldn't matter in receiving weather information. An example of the code used: "15-BU-S-20-18-N-E."—"Ceiling, 150 meters, broken clouds and showers; visibility 20 kilometers; wind velocity 18 kilometers; wind from northeast."[45]

 

Upon landing at the Omsk Airfield, which Edward Lund described as "looking like a cow pasture", Hughes asked the Soviet mechanics to immediately began refueling the plane. It turned out that Hughes and crew had to mix some of their own supply of ethyl with low-test gasoline, the only kind available to them at Omsk, in order to make fuel appropriate for their plane's engines. As at Moscow, the Soviets supplied Hughes with the most recent weather forecasts. After a 4½ hour layover, the Super Electra took once more to the air at 4:37 a.m. Wednesday (6:37 p.m. Tuesday NY time).[46]

 

Hughes and his four man crew were now flying over some of the most forbidding topography on earth—the taiga forests and flat, barren tundras of the subarctic zone. This was the bleak outer reaches of the inhabited earth. Siberia contained well less than one person per square mile. Far below them, vast raindeer herds would have been moving across the thousands of miles of sparsely inhabited space.

 

Hughes flew the 2,177 miles to the next stop at an average cruising speed of 210 mph at 11,600 feet above the plains, forests, and mountains of the Russian landscape. The crew took cat-naps in turn on a sheet of canvas spread across the cabin floor.[47] The heroic fliers in their redoubtable Lockheed Model 14-N2 landed at the city of Yakutsk on the Lena River in eastern Siberia at 12:08 p.m. (5:08 a.m. in New York). The Omsk-Yakutsk leg had taken them 10 hours and 31 minutes.[48] Back in 1933 the lowest temperature for an inhabited area was recorded in this region: -68°C (-90°F).[49] Yakutsk had been a place of exile for Russian revolutionaries for more than two hundred years. In 1938, there were a series of notorious Gulags on the outskirts of the city. Harry Connor described the place as "having an air of unreality about it, like we'd left the Earth and were upon some remote outpost in the universe."[50] Hughes and crew remained grounded at the edge of the world for three hours. Hughes will later tell newsmen that there had been only one person at Yakutsk who spoke English, a schoolteacher. He had to draw a picture to request airplane fuel.[51]

 

Back at Fenwick in the American Northeast, Katharine Hepburn had been paying close attention to Hughes' flight every step of the way with a radio and a map.[52] Soon after the flight had begun he had sent her a cable, "See you in three days." Flying over the Atlantic, he sent her: "All is fine." Later, "The Irish coast is breathtaking in all its beauty. Will contact you from Paris." All of the above signed off with "Love, Howard." Soon after he landed in Yakutsk, she received: "Still safe, HH."[53]

 

Taking off at 3:01 p.m. and heading eastward to Alaska, ahead of them loomed the huge jagged mountains of the Kolymsk region. Containing peaks over 9,000 feet high, it was an inhospitable granite wasteland laden with permanent glaciers brooding over the remote and severe regions below. Yet, "The prettiest sight we saw was on the takeoff from Yakutsk to Alaska," Stoddart later recalled, "when we saw the sun and the moon at the same time."[54]

 

Not long outside Yakutsk, the New York World's Fair 1939 only just crested the Siberian Mountains. It turned out that the Soviet maps the fliers had been reading had measured the height of the mountain chain in meters instead of feet, a fact which they came aware of with increasing surprise. Hughes had to crank the Super Electra into a sudden heartstopping ascent. If visibility had been low just then, the plane would have slammed into the side of the 9,700-foot granite range and that would have been the premature end of the Howard Hughes story. Edward Lund later called this moment the most thrilling part of his journey. "I could see every rock up close," Richard Stoddard recalled. They had cleared the crest by some 25 feet. A day later, a low-key Hughes will tell newsmen, "It was a good thing I didn't try to fly out of Yakutsk at night."[55]

 

Sigismund Levanevsky, a Russian flyer, had once said that the area around Yakutsk was rife with fog and high winds, making the region "the most dangerous flying country he had ever struck".[56] Yet, after passing over the mountains, the Super Electra encountered little difficulty as it sped eastward, chasing the rising sun, toward the Bering Strait and the American state of Alaska. The Hughes crew commented that the weather on this fourth leg of the flight was "middling-to-fair".[57]

 

Hughes was scrupulous in giving thanks to cooperative countries. Over the radio, he thanked Paris when he left Paris. Leaving German airspace, he thanked the Germans. Leaving Russia, he thanked the Soviets.

 

Just before noon on what the Hughes crew identified as Thursday, July 14, the Super Electra passed over the Bering Sea and in the process crossed the International Date Line. Just like that the fliers were pushed back to a little before noon on Wednesday again.[58]

 

12 hours and 17 minutes after taking off from Yakutsk, having covered 2,456 miles, the Super Electra was back on American soil in Fairbanks, Alaska at 2:18 p.m. (8:18 p.m. New York time) on July 13. The crowd of several thousand spectators having waited hours for the privilege cheered Hughes and the crew as they emerged onto the tarmac to direct the refueling operations.[59] The New York Times described Hughes as "in a smiling mood" at the "absence of autograph seekers."[60] While Hughes would be going in and out of his plane, he stopped more than once to suffer his photograph being taken. Interviewed for American radio broadcast, Stoddart said that the crew was "a little tired, but we were pretty comfortable on the entire trip." [61] Stoddart went on to explain that the runway at Fairbanks was only 2,800 feet, necessitating the removal of certain of the Super Electra's load, including the life raft and other survival gear now unnecessary since there was no more ocean to cross. John Keats in Howard Hughes detailed, "A sack of pingpong balls was thrown out of the baggage compartment and broke open on striking the runway. For a moment all work stopped as Fairbanks natives scrambled after little white bouncing souvenirs."[62] After Hughes and his crew carried out a final inspection of the exterior of the plane, they took off into the darkness, heading southeastward en route to Minneapolis, Minnesota. The layover at Fairbanks had lasted only 1 hour and 18 minutes, the shortest, most efficient stop yet.

 

One of the radio antennas (KHRH) was lost upon taking off from Fairbanks. In what is evidently pure coincidence, fluky communications problems plagued most of Hughes' record-breaking flights in the 1930s. Hughes suffered either a malfunctioning radio or broken antenna during his first coast-to-coast flight; his Miami to New York flight; his Chicago to Los Angeles flight; and now not once but twice during his round-the-world flight. With KHRH down, Hughes would be unable to send messages directly to his communications center at Flushing Meadows for much of the latter stage of the flight.[63] During this second to last leg, the Fairbanks to Minneapolis route, which was a tremendous 2,483 miles, much of it over the sparsely populated forests of Canada, airfields in both Winnepeg and Edmonton remained on alert and kept a constant watch for Hughes' plane.[64]

 

The plane encountered lightning and rain while flying over the Canadian Rockies. During this leg the crew's meal consisted of canned fruit.[65] Every so often Hughes jotted down notes and figures in his flight log, which would eventually come to forty pages.[66]

 

According to the calendar, the Hughes flight would comprise four days. But Hughes and crew saw the sun rise not four but five times during the flight—over the Atlantic ocean; between Paris and Moscow; between Omsk and Yatutsk; between Yakutsk and Fairbanks; and between Fairbanks and Minneapolis. Flying in the direction that the earth was turning, Hughes had outdistanced the planet by a complete lap. According to a bulletin by the National Geographic Society issued on July 14, "Another interesting quirk in regard to time as it affected the Hughes flight is that their five 'sun days' each had an average of only about 19 hours."[67]

 

Minneapolis and a cheering crowd of well-wishers were reached in the early morning of July 14 after a flight leg of 12 hours and 2 minutes, but Hughes didn't stay on the ground long. Just 34 minutes after arriving, they were off again. Excitement was mounting as the plane streaked through American airspace. The Hughes flight dominated radio news broadcasts nationwide by the hour. Ace reporter Walter Winchell commented, "Hughes-mania is sweeping the country."[68] "A Great Welcome Waits Hughes Here", blazoned a headline in that morning's New York Times, which had been printing a running log of the flight every step of the way. New York's City Hall was busy organizing a grand celebration and Mayor Fiorello H. La Guardia was drafting an address of welcome. Many thousands of persons hoping to witness Hughes' arrival began assembling at Floyd Bennett Field soon after sunrise on the 14th. The police department, preparing for the largest crowd ever to assemble at the airfield, assigned no less than 1,100 policemen to be present there; 35 police motorcycles were arranged to surround Hughes' plane to protect it from an onrush of spectators. An iron fence was erected to keep the public back from the landing strip, along with rope cordons and wire barricades. Two large stands were set up, one for photographers, the other, under a tent, for journalists. The mediamen were arranging a forest of microphones at the airfield. More than 350 radio stations across America were expected to receive a live feed of Hughes' return. It was, the Times reported, "the most elaborate and extensive radio set-up ever assembled to broadcast the welcome given an arriving personage." [69] In fact, by this time the Hughes flight was the most prominent international news story in the media worldwide.[70]

 

Twenty-five thousand spectators were waiting under an overcast sky at Floyd Bennett Airfield in Brooklyn on the afternoon of July 14. Assembled notables included Mayor La Guardia and Major General Oscar W. Westover, Chief of the Army Air Corps. Odekirk, Lodwick, Rockefeller, Perrine, and their assistants at the flight operations center were ready to celebrate.

 

From out of the clouds in the west the Hughes plane swooped into visibility around 2:30 p.m. The tremendous crowd went wild with adulation. People clapped, cheered, shouted, honked automobile horns. Caught up in the excitement, policemen blew their traffic whistles and fire trucks set their sirens wailing. Hughes circled the airfield once, surveying the massive assembly awaiting him, then came in for a landing.

 

The wheels of the Super Electra touched down on the tarmac at 2:37 p.m. While Hughes applied the brakes as the plane shot down the runway, four automobiles gave chase, each with a cameraman and movie camera mounted atop the roof. A new level of excitement overcame the assembled crowd which would not be held in check. Caught up in the thrill of it all, the police cordon decided to remove the barricades and clear a path to the airstrip so the spectators could get closer to the Hughes plane, which looked as good as new. Hughes reduced the speed of the Super Electra to a slow roll and was forced to taxi the plane extremely carefully through the enthusiastic crush of bodies, heading slowly, foot by foot, toward the administration building.

 

The Lockheed Super Electra had set the new world speed record for an around-the-world flight: 3 days, 19 hours, 8 minutes, and 10 seconds.[71] Hughes' plane, the New York World's Fair 1939, had averaged 206 miles an hour over the 14,824 mile flight. Howard Hughes, at the age of 32, had won the greatest of all contemporary aviation records!

 

When Hughes finally emerged from the Super Electra, the crowd's ardor reached a new intensity and became, in the words of the New York Times, "a mob. . . . Clothes were torn and feet were stepped on . . . all in good-natured enthusiasm." The array of photographers' flash bulbs looked like a mini-lightning storm. The multitude of well-wishers were overcome with happy hysteria and swarmed enthusiastically around the plane. Amid the crowd, Miss Elinor Hoaglund, 19 years old, who was engaged to crewmember Edward Lund, collapsed from the excitement.[72]

 

While his crewmen were happily reunited with their thrilled families, no one close to Hughes personally was there to greet him upon arrival. Microphones were shoved in his face. "All I can say," Hughes announced to the newsmen jostling around him, "is that this crowd has frightened me more than anything in the last three days."[73]

 

Not only were hundreds of American stations across the country broadcasting live news of Hughes' arrival, but the Columbia Broadcasting Company transmitted programming to Europe, while the National Broadcasting Company relayed the broadcast to South America.[74]

 

Hughes, unshaven in his soiled and wrinkled gray suit, proceeded slowly through the thick press of spectators—amid the cacophony someone screeched, "Grab his hat off!"—and made his way to a greeter's stand where he was welcomed by Mayor La Guardia and Grover A. Whalen, the World's Fair President. "Seven million New Yorkers offer their congratulations for the greatest record established in the history of aviation," said Mayor La Guardia. "Welcome home!"[75] But Hughes was not much in a party mood. He was exhausted. Between July 8 and July 14 he had had only "three or four hours of sleep" in total, he later told newsmen. He was meant to proceed to the press tent, but, amid what the Times described as "a bedlam of noise and confusion", decided to jump into a waiting motorcar and flee the scene with the Mayor and Grover Whalen.[76] Hughes spent only a little more than twenty minutes with the welcoming crowd.

 

A police motorcade cleared the way along Flatbush Avenue and across the Manhattan bridge as Hughes was driven to Whalen's home at 48 Washington Mews. There, while he sat relaxed in an overstuffed chair, he willingly gave the press the interview that he'd dodged at the airport. Hughes praised the achievement of Wiley Post's solo round-the-world jaunt of 1933. "Imagine flying that route himself!" Hughes said. "It was beyond comprehension." During the hour-long interview, Hughes extolled his four man crew, describing them as "the ablest assistants a man could have."[77]

 

*

 

While Hughes, his crewmembers and their wives, World's Fair officials, and journalists celebrated the aviation triumph inside Grover Whalen's home, a crowd of several hundred spectators and well-wishers gathered outside the building. Two of the wives had remembered to bring fresh shirts for their husbands; a Chinese house servant rushed away to return with new clothes for Hughes (including a white shirt, size 15½). The fliers washed up then shared a Scotch-and-soda together. When it was time for Whalen's guests to depart via the front door, Hughes surreptitiously left the building via a back exit and took a taxi to the distinguished Drake Hotel on Park Avenue, where he managed to make an inconspicuous entrance.

 

In the evening, he hailed a cab and was driven to Katharine Hepburn's town house at nearby Turtle Bay (an enclave of brownstone townhouses) where he discovered a crowd of mediamen and fans had gathered. Instead of stopping, he decided to return to the Drake, where he phoned her then went to bed.[78]
Title: HH2
Post by: Scrooby on February 06, 2023, 04:27:07 AM
The next day New Yorkers has an excuse to enjoy a magnitudinous party, the city's largest celebration of the 1930s. Schools suspended their classes and businesses locked their doors because no one wanted to miss the tickertape parade celebrating Aviator Howard Hughes, American hero.


The crowd along the parade route began building at 10:00 a.m. under a hot July sun. Up and down the sidewalks the good-natured throng chanted, "We want Hughes! We want Hughes!" Many had brought hand-drawn signs, variations on "Welcome home!" American flags fluttered up and down the bustling streets. 2,500 policemen kept order along the route.


Typically, Howard Hughes would adhere to his own schedule. After picking up Hughes' crewmembers at Hampshire House at Central Park South at 12:15 p.m., the whole motorcade—including Mayor La Guardia, police motorcyles—moved reluctantly onward to Columbus Circle, where it stood idling, waiting for Howard Hughes to arrive for his own parade. Everyone else was on schedule, but why hadn't Hughes arrived at Hampshire House? Many hundreds of thousands of people along the parade route were waiting for him. Where was he? Though he had risen at nine that morning in his suite at the Drake Hotel, which was more than enough time for Hughes to wash, shave, and have a new suit brought to him, he would still be late for his own parade. Why? Because he couldn't find a comb. At noon, the time the parade had been originally scheduled to start, a hotel employee had to rush out to find a fine-toothed comb. Finally Hughes appeared downstairs in the lobby of the Drake Hotel where he was greeted by a gang of reporters and photographers. A probably flustered Al Lodwick appeared on the scene and forthwith whisked Hughes first to Hampshire House, where they picked up Grover Whalen, and then to Columbus Circle, where the three of them took their place in the official car.[79]


Just after 12:30 p.m., the parade finally started, moving slowly up lower Broadway toward City Hall. At first "nervous and ill at ease," according to the New York Times, the "shy and embarrassed" Hughes kept biting his lips, and he kept fussing with his lucky fedora (described as a "battered felt hat"), removing it then returning it to his head more than a dozen times.[80] The noisy spectacle Hughes was greeted by had reduced him to dumbstruck awe. This party put the Hell's Angels Hollywood premiere in the shade.


Between 750,000 and 1,000,000 people had crowded onto Broadway to shout approval of Hughes and his associates as they rolled by. Many more hundreds of thousands of people cheered from windows overlooking the procession and tossed paper into the air. The amount of paper fluttering down between the skyscrapers—ticker tape, torn telephone books, strips of newspaper, telegram blanks—was incredible, like a snow storm in July.


Hughes sat at the head of the procession in an open-top car, between two less-well-known personages, Albert Lodwick and Grover Whalen. Hughes was dressed in a dark double-breasted suit which hung loose on his gangly frame; his hair was parted down the middle and slicked back. He looked distinctly boyish, no older than a teenager, as he took in the flattering sight overwhelming him. Sometimes he looked high up and waved, sometimes he looked back over his shoulder.


There were nine cars of honored personages in all; Hughes, no credit-hog, had ensured that his crewmembers and their wives, as well as Odekirk and all seventeen of the flight technical staff, remained prominent during the celebration. Following up the parade were seven cars of reporters and photographers.


Hughes "gradually relaxed", and was finally "smiling broadly" as the procession proceeded up Broadway.[81] Some overly enthusiastic well-wishers eluded police and ran up to Hughes' car and got the ordinarily fastidious Hughes to shake hands with them.[82] At City Hall, the Fire Department Band erupted in music when the procession was sighted. The immense crowd of spectators roared: "Ya-a-ay, Hughes!" "Howard! Howard!"[83]


On the steps of City Hall the Hughes party was welcomed by Mayor La Guardia and two former mayors of the city, James J. Walker and John Patrick O'Brien. Inside City Hall, Mayor LaGuardia presented a key to the city to Hughes and his crew. Jesse Holman Jones, chairman of the Federal government's Reconstruction Finance Corporation, introduced Hughes, who, polite and low-key, stepped up to an array of a half-dozen microphones feeding a live broadcast to radio stations across the country.[84] In what the Times described as a "quiet, diffident voice," Hughes read from a manuscript he had dashed off that morning in his suite at the Drake Hotel. (Time magazine described him as "fumbling with some sheets of paper."[85]) It was an unpretentious, self-effacing speech, in which Hughes was more than willing to share the acclaim:


The most advanced and newest equipment developed by navigators and radio engineers furnished me with such accurate information as to the position of the plane at all times that I estimate for the total trip we traveled only twenty miles more than a direct course between the various points at which we stopped.


This point was one of the most remarkable aspects of the record-breaking flight. Hughes went on to cite the Hughes Aircraft Company, but modestly, without naming it as such:


The airplane was fast because it was the product of over 200,000 engineering hours. Young men trained mostly at the California Institute of Technology, working in a factory in California, put in 200,000 hours of concentrated thought to develop that machine.


Hughes said that he had in no way strained the Super Electra's engines during the flight, which therefore demonstrated that long-range air passenger travel was now a thing of the present, not the future. This was an important point not only to the world of aviation but to Hughes personally—one year later he is going to buy in to TWA.


In public Hughes was never one to blow his own horn, which endeared him to the American people:


If credit is due anyone, it is due to the men who designed and perfected to its present remarkable state of efficiency the modern American flying machine and equipment. If we made a fast flight, it is because so many young men in this country went to engineering schools, worked hard at drafting tables and designed a fast airplane and navigation and radio equipment which would keep this plane upon its course. All we did was operate the equipment and plane according to the instruction book accompanying the article.


Yet Hughes, control-freak, did give himself a little pat on the back:


There is one thing about the flight which pleases me more than the actual time which elapsed—that is the fact that we made no unscheduled stops. We arrived at every destination within a few minutes of the time which we set as our arrival time.


Turning his thoughts to the bigger picture, Hughes described the international network of radio communications now available to pilots of all nationalities, and hoped that this cooperation between nations might contribute to an embracing of a universal brotherhood of mankind and world peace. However, Hughes, ardent American, made it clear where his best sympathies lay:


If this flight may have demonstrated to Europe the fact that American engineers and American workmen can build just as fine and just as efficient an airplane and its equipment as any other country in the world, then I certainly will feel it has been well worth while.


If Hughes had been dynamic in deed, his reserved speechifying left a little to be desired, as he well understood:


I suppose I haven't put this very well. I get a little nervous here and don't say just what I want to. But I hope you understand.[86]


Everybody understood. "He had the face of a poet and the shyness of a schoolboy," described the New York Times."[87]


Then the tickertape procession resumed. Fire stations along the route sounded their engines' sirens in tribute. Hughes was brought up Fifth Avenue, where the crowds proved to be just as strong as earlier, numbering 500,000 people at least, reducing Fifth Avenue to half its width. The turn-out surprised the police department, which had assigned only 500 policemen to the area.


In all, the police department estimated that more than 2 million people cheered Hughes during his tickertape parade. The party outstripped the histrionic celebrations upon the return of Charles Lindbergh from his groundbreaking solo New York to Paris flight of May 1927. Deputy Commissioner William Powell subsequently announced that the Department of Sanitation had gathered only 1,600 tons in the wake of Lindbergh's parade, while for the Hughes celebration 1,800 tons of paper had rained down from the heights to pile up in the streets.[88] Howard Hughes' tickertape parade remained in the record books as New York's biggest party until the return of General Douglas MacArthur from Korea on April 20, 1951.[89]


*


After the parade, Hughes and his crew went to a private luncheon, hosted by Grover Whalen, at the Metropolitan Club at Fifth Avenue and Sixtieth Street. Among the official guests at the luncheon were Mayor La Guardia, former Mayors Walker and O'Brien, and the Borough Presidents of Manhattan, Brooklyn, and the Bronx. A crowd of 3,000 spectators stood outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fliers. The public couldn't get enough of Howard Hughes.[90]


Lunch ended at 4:37 p.m., according to the New York Times, but Hughes apparently left in secret a short time earlier. According to William Randolph Hearst, Jr. in 1972, Hughes gave the slip to his associates and met with Hearst at the old N.Y. Yacht Club at the East River at 2:30 p.m. Hearst and Hughes went flying over Long Island Sound in Hearst's small Aeronca plane. "At his insistence," Hearst recalled, "I did the flying."[91]

Hughes left Al Lodwick's apartment at 65 East Fifty-fifth Street at 9:10 p.m.; his car, accompanied by a pair of police motorcycles, carried out cunning maneuvers and eluded pursuing reporters.[92] Hughes disappeared into the night to a rendezvous with Katharine Hepburn.[93]
Title: There Will Be Spittle : the Sequel
Post by: Scrooby on February 12, 2023, 03:55:57 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ea/42/a0/ea42a09b7f012013b3dab5c648380989.jpg)
Barton Fink (1991), 1:19:17
Title: Friends : Not interested in a Super Bowl Fly-By?
Post by: Scrooby on February 12, 2023, 08:45:40 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5WLXb7qSzQ
Title: The mood of Valentine's Day!
Post by: Scrooby on February 14, 2023, 01:31:27 PM
Enjoy, friends.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQUXdzyUIBg
Title: There Will Be Kane
Post by: Scrooby on February 15, 2023, 01:09:29 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/5c/55/455c55a234d2b0e4afcc9771c05d20d9.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/88/3f/32883fb40db30d5d65b09303dc4069d1.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/56/07/02/56070249f0fbaac340e65c611efea57f.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/71/28/82/71288254fe653001ccfc7350ebfd9e4e.jpg)
Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), director of photography Michael Ballhaus (4:20–4:22)
Title: ALL THAT JAZZ : PTA
Post by: Scrooby on February 19, 2023, 05:58:27 AM
I've heard that PTA may be embarking on a new film project about the Jazz world of the 1940s. (Hopefully it'll be in B&W, and, God please, in 1:33.)

The point here :

Since There Will Be Blood, PTA has been examining his own role (the artist's role) in life, art, and the creative process.

Examples :

(a) the artist in society : TWBB
(b) the artist's own complex character with himself (both Freddy and The Master as PTA himself)
(c) the artist's personal relationships with others : Phantom Thread

And now Jazz.

What might this theme mean to PTA, who said a year or so ago that he was "still learning" about telling stories?

Jazz is improvisatory and operates on instinct enriched by experience. Jazz's free-flowing structure (set within larger structures of a piece) is in opposition to the highly-structured films of PTA mentioned above.

Now the Point : "Jazz" is a method of work for the Artist. That is to say : the state of mind of the Artist. And also possibly the condition of the film set. "Jazz" suggests allowing the mind to make connections otherwise lost due to too rigid an approach to creation. We might put Fellini, Gilliam, and Coppola in this category (all three thrived on chaotic film sets). The subject of "Jazz" suggests, for PTA, a newfound exploration of the Artist's intuition in the creative process.

I recall a conversation I once had with one of the great graphic artists of the twentieth century, Ron King. I asked him what meanings might be behind the surreal collage below, a work I own entited "The Witches" from his extraordinary edition of Macbeth. It is a Silk Screen Print from 1970 and the colors (especially the predominant silver that is completely lost here) must be seen to be believed (like anything worthwhile). I asked him, What does this mean? When you work, do you have something in mind beforehand? In answer, the artist shook his head and answered with one word and one word only : "Jazz".

And that was the end of that topic of conversation.


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ed/ec/25/edec25a1241f1f8f12e25fa7c3e22ef2.jpg)

TOP TIP from a lifetime of experience : Don't ask Authentic Artists questions. They kinda get annoyed.
Title: There Will Be Freddy
Post by: Scrooby on February 20, 2023, 06:55:47 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c8/67/1f/c8671ff955351e0a847e4a4658502e2c.jpg)

Not a "Vulnerable Male".
Title: Phantom Jazz
Post by: Scrooby on February 21, 2023, 12:30:34 PM
Hello, Friends. Picking a shot at random for fun. Each entry is a bullet-point for Thought :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a9/1d/b7/a91db7a1029a053497cea73f12368be3.jpg)

Character on right framed in white light and window.

Alma is associated with electric light, dim at this time.

Note the fineness of hair of the character on the right compared to Alma's.

Note the stately outline of the profile of the character on the right compared to the looser, less sharp, less elegantly composed outline and bulk of Alma.

Alma is in black.

An association between the two characters : their skin looks similar in quality?

Is Alma a bit taller (aggression)?

Telephoto : the woman at lower screen-center is looking in Alma's direction (thinking in an abstract way here—a film frame as a composition of geometrical shapes). This woman communicates visually the concept of : barrier. (And whatever else. Example : triangle. ) The telephoto woman looking in Alma's direction invests Alma with an extra power. This gives Alma an edge.
 
We could go on infinitely. In fact, we're already in Infinity and condensing it moment-by-moment to a manageable degree according to our faculties.

Good luck and best wishes and bwee until the next


Title: There Will Be Explication
Post by: Scrooby on February 21, 2023, 04:37:36 PM
Phantom Thread : "I think it's the expectations and assumptions of others that cause heartache." Sure, but if the Artist prepared her for the Situation, the Artist might help to avert a heartache. That said, how does someone say something to anyone about anything?
Title: There Will Be Sappho
Post by: Scrooby on February 22, 2023, 12:47:03 PM
Complete Poems. Coming 2023. Absolutely Free! Love, Scrooby.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4f/e0/b7/4fe0b7216d77e4b5da3b0f08273c25ef.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ae/14/a1/ae14a18ca691404e2669fc90fd6137f7.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3b/ee/96/3bee96db105d8a6511f38ad07365e089.jpg)
Title: There Random Will Be
Post by: Scrooby on February 23, 2023, 09:56:43 AM
Today's random shot.

1:21:43

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e7/a7/5e/e7a75ee3d423318bbe0c7045542cfed6.jpg)

Duality of Dark and Light on face.

Note painting on wall. Mass of bodies. See The Welles' The Stranger (1946), 59.39 :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e3/3e/bb/e33ebb54416a2175278526d396b452a7.jpg)

What haunts her is made manifest on screen.

The film frame is a dream of the audience, but also of the character(s) who embody it.

What is in the frame embodies unconscious elements of the character(s) within the frame.

In short : First-rate storytelling uses very last detail to express character.

Best wishes.




Title: Catastrophic Jack-O-Lantern
Post by: Scrooby on February 23, 2023, 01:13:03 PM
Catastrophic Jack-O-Lantern (2010)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/0f/3e/000f3e2877965da49df77b9c0181230d.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2f/d2/10/2fd210abfa7e3bcf581f003e0724fe9a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/cf/fa/1bcffae3edcf00d42c1dd58662e271fe.jpg)

from a novel unpublished by the women of London.
Title: There Will Be Sparks
Post by: Scrooby on February 23, 2023, 08:54:18 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/90/25/639025f0659f6e46dfadef1547c7bed9.jpg)
(1:01)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/8c/91/008c917b80fcc4c698ed8d70506b9ced.jpg)
Dunkirk (1:04:49)
Title: Random Shot of the Day
Post by: Scrooby on February 24, 2023, 02:40:41 PM
(1:21:56)   Random shot of the day

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5a/94/59/5a9459440752e4149931f08e77ad1c24.jpg)

As always (it seems), duality of light and dark on Alma's face. Both characters are wearing dark garments : union. "Mother is here." (Vertigo.) The elegant powder-blue Hal-9000-shaped quadrangle behind Woodcock's head. The three different shades of blue. A blue grading into grey. Such elegant subtlety. We're sipping the finest of wines. The cool blue and the flame orange. When before have we seen Alma so ingenuously concentrating? Recall her usual distractedness when wearing Woodcock's garments (e.g., their first-date measurement scene; the "Cyril is always right" scene). Here, Alma looks as in-the-moment as she's been in the movie. (The first time we see her, she trips up. An amusing 1930s conceit.) But here : she's fierce in her concentration to help the stricken. A flashback? A repetition compulsion, like The Shining? She is doomed to relive the horrors of her past? She is one of those characters that fill the first page of Seneca's plays, the various souls in Hell doomed to relive old torments infinitely? But she also has a mania to "make good" : she can "fix" Woodcock. Contradiction : a barrier comes between the two faces : the vertical doorframe. (Consider the old superstition about not abiding barriers between friends : a demonstration of this superstition is shown in Citizen Kane, between Leland and Kane. The superstition is : say you're walking on the street with someone you love, and you come to a streetlamp. Now, the two should pass by one side together. If the streetlamp comes between them, one or the other must retrace one's steps and follow the path of the other, so that no barrier comes between them. Bad luck may otherwise eventuate.) Here, though, the barrier. But also the contradiction : because the wall in the distance has its horizontal chair rail. This architectural detail links the two characters like an umbilical cord in a Cronenberg movie. Note the highlight on the top of the door frame. Is that required, do you think? Or is the following a better way of putting it : if the highlight is there, it should be there, because it makes things better, even if we haven't understood it yet. How do we know this highlight makes things better? (Which is another way of saying : How do we know this highlight contributes to the magic of the shot?) Because PTA designed this shot. Since PTA is a first-rate storyteller, we cannot overanalyse his work. We can only keep thinking about it, and thereby learn from it. A great storyteller is a blessing. A great Artist gives us something worthwhile to think about endlessly.
Title: Maximum Overdrive
Post by: Scrooby on March 02, 2023, 06:19:40 AM
Writer/director Stephen King receives a message at the start of Maximum Overdrive (1986)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f9/43/10/f94310cf7de3e76287a4bd2a295da869.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/22/11/16/221116b566465b40e71b51793c9270ed.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/15/b9/d7/15b9d7e118c253c9a2ac5dce8c41bb81.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/de/c4/73/dec473dbdcbb2e7b9628e964b27df8b8.jpg)
Title: Coming Soon : The Master Class
Post by: Scrooby on March 03, 2023, 03:08:20 PM
THE MASTER : an examination

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/36/4d/1c/364d1cbf5723ccd229126def97a588a9.jpg)

1. Freddy / Dodd = Two Sides of PTA

2. Dodd's Teachings : Analysis

3. Women in The Master

4. What the fxck is the last twenty minutes of The Master?

5. Possible Bonus : A Scrooby "Vulnerable Male" Rant

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b4/dc/3f/b4dc3fd9ef6a47ae7eef7d7d9d3bb473.jpg)
Sadie McKee (1934), 1:24:22

coming soon
Title: The Master class : relaxed intro
Post by: Scrooby on March 04, 2023, 04:45:44 AM
The Master class

(1) relaxed introduction : on absorbing a narrative

For example : studying a poem : say, a poem in Latin. Say, the first page of Medea by Seneca. We don't read the words as we are reading these words right now. No, reading the words of poetry involves an active effort.

Let's pause to reflect on what is meant by the active effort of understanding poetry. We cannot just read a poem and easily absorb it, because, all too often, the language of the poem demands a closer look on purpose, simply to understand what is going on in the poem.

Example. In Medea, when the main character says four words in her opening speech ("voce non fausta precor", 12), is this phrase a strongly-stressed climax of her furiously-growing speech, a powerful rounding-out of her rhetorical effusion? Or is this phrase a mere quiet aside, something in the manner of a whisper, an idle comment she is remarking to herself, an interruption of the intimate into the grandiose. Which is it? The distinction is important, because any answer we arrive at relates to how we understand the character of Medea. The answer, however, is not the ultimate goal. Why? The answer is not the ultimate goal because there is no one answer.

The "ultimate goal" in this poetic experience, as in any experience with Art, is related to the active effort : of engaging with, in intrepreting, in thinking about, in trying to make sense of, in determining a way forward through, in marvelling at the complexity at, in integrating with the phenomenon.

When we watch a movie, generally we yield to the willing suspension of disbelief. We assume the lens is a window through which we see human beings in a world not too different from our own. This way of watching a movie is not an active effort.

A film like The Master forces us to apply an active effort in order to understand it.

Compare how The Master tells its story with one of JP's subsequent films, Irrational Man (2015). The difference between how the two films tell their stories, both told by master storytellers, is instructive.

(Fun fact : JP's flask from The Master seems a prominent prop throughout Irrational Man, as if the Freddy from The Master is as a ghost in Irrational Man. Ghosts : Irrational Man is a 1970s movie, a contemporary Taxi Driver (just see the first shot), and this is one reason why it's shot in Panavision widescreen : it's an old-school nod to the 1970s. In that decade Paul Schrader was known to indulge in threatening Russian roulette, for example.)

If we want to even try to understand The Master, we must apply an active effort. This active effort is an ordinary part of Art, not a subsequent activity for some, nor a failing on anybody's part. Art involves the process of "figuring it out", and always has, from the earliest days to now.

The active process of figuring it out is what Art is about.

This "figuring it out" makes a person who is engaging with the Artwork in an effortful way better for the experience, once the experience is over, if it ever ends : for some works of Art remain with us forever. We keep returning to them as if to a prayer, and every time we return, we learn more : Art is evolvement to Revelation. Art is a perpetual motion machine, an engine that never turns off, eternally operating for our benefit, to sharpen us. Thank you, PTA.

How we steer the engine of Art conditions the nature of our minds. The Master is an Artwork that intends to elevate our Thinking, to make us stronger—if we're up to the task. But are we Freddy, or are we the Master?
Title: The Master class (2) : from Magnolia to The Master
Post by: Scrooby on March 05, 2023, 05:34:34 AM
The Master class (2) : from Magnolia to The Master

a.

A work of art emerges, like anything else, from the unconscious. That is to say, every aspect of the screenplay is touched to some degree by the personality of the artist. A screenplay, so to speak, regardless of its subject matter, is in its nature automatically an autobiography of its author.

First-rate authors know this situation well. So first-rate authors use this knowledge in their working process, in order to raise the game of : (a) artist, (b) the act of creation, (c) the created artwork, and (d) the value this artwork may have on the audience.

A first-rate artist is aware that the artwork is a trace of the artist's unconscious. The work itself, however much may be understood by the artist, will still be full of the artist's secrets, as the unconscious works secretively (i.e., the mystery-speak of dreams). Knowing all this, the artist, in the effort of creation, will work with this knowledge and cooperate with this mysterious situation. The first-rate artist will work with this situation in order to learn something about themselves.

The creation of the first-rate artwork, first and foremost, is an investigation into its artist.

b.

As PTA has grown in years, his thematic material has enrichened and complexified to the point that ordinary audiences may have no idea what the artist is "on about". There may be no ambiguity to the storytelling of Magnolia : the audience knows at all times what is happening, what may be on the characters' minds, and so on. But when we come to The Master, and especially to the second half of the film, the audience has begun to ask the question : What is going on?

This question signals the colossal advancement in the development of the artist PTA : the colossal advancement in storytelling from Magnolia to The Master : the colossal advancement in the mind of PTA.

By The Master, PTA, however determined he is to create a story accessible to the audience, has still created a narrative not easy to understand. He did this on purpose. This is a very important point. If PTA is indeed a first-rate artist, then the difficulty of The Master is not the result of a failure of storytelling, nor is it a bad decision on the part of the storyteller : the difficulty of The Master is intentional.

The difficulty of The Master is intentional because PTA wants us to think.

How many people on the planet Earth truly want you to think? PTA is in the manner of a religious holy man : he is here to inspire you to reach Revelation, to open your eyes to the world and to yourself.

How does PTA intend to do this? By examining himself. The more authentic an examination into his own self in the process of creation, hopefully the more authentic a response the audience will have to the ultimate artwork. That is to say, the artwork will be encoded with so much depth that the audience can think about The Master and never reach the bottom of it. The more PTA dedicates his entire person to the work, ideally the more healing efficacy the work may have on the audience—"ideally", because this "healing" aspect depends on the effort devoted by the audience to exploring The Master.

c.

No matter how much depth PTA encodes into The Master, no matter how much of his unconscious is interwoven with every aspect of the film, the artwork is not going to work on the audience automatically for all that. No. Just watching The Master will leave one scratching one's head by the end. But if the audience puts the effort into exploring the inner mysteries of The Master, lives can be changed for the better.

And this is the power of authentic art. Art changes both Artist and Spectator—

If you let it.
Title: The Master class (3) : two characters : one author
Post by: Scrooby on March 05, 2023, 07:02:10 AM
The Master class (3) : two characters : one author

a.

Freddy is an antisocial character. 

The Master is a social character. What does this mean? The Master actively attempts to work with the world (as opposed to Freddy, who often simply rejects rules).

We have just noted two apparent opposites.

Freddy = antisocial
The Master = social

What if we said these two characters are two aspects of one phenomenon? The phenomenon of the mind of PTA.

b.

Freddy is inward. He follows his own code and all else be damned. This personality trait is a fundamental component of his antisocial nature.

The Master is as outward-thinking as he is inward-thinking. Obviously so, or Lancaster Dodd would not have successfully gathered around him an arrangement of votaries, readers, volunteers, and others. Dodd interacts deftly with people just as Freddy often acts unthinkingly of them.

Again we have just described two opposites, and yet :

c.

Freddy and Dodd are two aspects of the one person, writer-director PTA.

The screenwriter is the antisocial element. The writer must step away from the world in order to create. The writer hides away, as it were, to bring their art into existence.

The artist is the antisocial element because the artist deals in Truth and Truth is absolutely blacklisted from public and even private discourse. Generally speaking, because Truth Hurts, the ordinary person of the world wants neither to know the truth of the world, nor the truth of oneself. A dreamworld, however stressful it might be (the comic irony!), is deemed to be more compatible with the Self than the Truth. Thank god your author is on the way out, because he cannot take much more of this farce. But the young have the capacity to learn : if they hear a person worth listening to. But how are they to know who is worth listening to, when Evil assails them from every point from the very first moment of life?

Either a young person sees the light, or doesn't. Call it Destiny.

Art can be the hand that pulls youth up from Death and into Light.

If the young person sees the light, that young person may grow up to be a PTA, and then investigate the process of how the one became the other.

d.

And now this author is sorry to have to say this : virtually no one on earth wants you to succeed, so if you wait for that helping hand, it probably won't be coming. I am sorry to break this news to you, and I hope I'm wrong in your case. Good luck.

e.

We know by now PTA's attitude to the people around him. Just think of the most powerful word in There Will Be Blood : "People." That is PTA speaking.

Consider why Ingmar Bergman gave up filmmaking. Consider why Eugene O'Neill, one of the greatest authors in twentieth-century America, didn't give a fxck for the last ten years of his life. Consider why Ernest Hemingway, another of America's greatest authors, blew his head off. You'd think two American authors who had won a Nobel Prize would be, well, a little satisfied? What do you think these geniuses knew about the world that you don't yet know?

Anyway : If people are a hassle, why is PTA still making films? People are rotten, but some artists have a compulsion to create no matter what, and will endure the greatest mental pains in an attempt to fulfil the call of that compulsion.

If or when the young reader comes to understand the previous paragraph, you will be on the road to becoming a PTA. But beware, for nothing is as you think it is : especially "Success". Just ask Eugene O'Neill. Ask Hemingway.

e.

Note how Freddy begins to morph into Dodd at some points, and how Dodd morphs into Freddy at some points. Note how they both sense a deep connection with the other.

They sense a deep connection with each other because there is a deep connection there : the deepest.

f.

This author could go on and explain further on this point, but for what purpose? Enough has now been said for any reader to arrive at what may be beneficial to think about, someday.

g.

Recapitulation : The two characters Freddy and Dodd are two aspects of the one PTA : the antisocial screenwriter and the social film director.
Title: The Master class (4) : interword
Post by: Scrooby on March 06, 2023, 12:41:01 AM
The Master class (4) : recapitulation


a.

Find it interesting that Freddy's first line is a teaching? "Do you know how . . ."

This is the first link between the two men Freddy and Lancaster Dodd.


b.

And the last link?

The film's final scene recapitulates some of Dodd's words in Freddy's mouth, including the line :

Dodd : "You are the bravest boy I've ever met." (51:26)

Freddy : "You're the bravest girl I've ever known."


c.

Freddy concocts a potion to satisfy the body.
Dodd concocts a teaching to satisfy the mind.


d.

This post strengthens with two facts an earlier remark : "These two characters are two aspects of one phenomenon."



Next : Twelve Teachings of Dodd.

Title: The Master class (5) : twelve teachings of Dodd (I)
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 06:25:11 AM
The Master class (5) : twelve teachings of Dodd (I)

TEACHING 1

Man is not an animal.
We are not a part
of the animal kingdom.
We sit far above that crowd,
perched as spirits, not beasts.
You are not ruled by your emotions.
It is not only possible,
it is easily achievable
that we do away
with all negative
emotional impulses,
and bring man back to his
inherent state of perfect.

*

Man is not an animal.

But humankind is an animal, so what does Dodd mean here? We must think about the whole of this teaching in order to understand this first pronouncement. If we jump ahead to this line :

You are not ruled by your emotions.

we may be on to something. So let us start here. By using the negative ("not"), and stressing it, evidently Dodd is remarking on the ordinary fact that people are ruled by their emotions all the time. (In fact, "confidence"—one's "self-confidence"—is based on nothing more than the physical sensation of standing upright : a feeling.)

Dodd here seems to be equating "emotions" with "instinct". (There is absolutely nothing wrong in doing this.) Emotions can come out of the blue as it were (e.g., some weird crying jag, or a feeling of happiness for no discernible reason), just as instinct comes out of the blue as it were (how in the world does a bird know how to build a nest, or read the signs of the stars on their way to whatever intentional direction?).

So, Dodd here is attempting to dislodge from our mind the illusion of control that we think we have all the time (even when we think ourselves "out of control"!).

Dodd is attempting to substitute what may be a greater degree of control than emotion : considered thought.

We are not a part
of the animal kingdom.


Here, Dodd is stressing what we have already offered some commentary on; he is, at first glance, repeating his first line. But he is adding further information to his thesis statement. Here, he emphasizes the word "animal". This suggests that we are a part of some kingdom. In what follows, Dodd does not here offer any explanation of what this kingdom is, but there is encoded in this Teaching enough for us to posit a theory.

We sit far above that crowd,
perched as spirits, not beasts.


(Btw, recall Dodd later : "We stand far above that crowd.", 1:04:19)

There is a grandiosity of this line, "sitting far above" : the heroic primacy of the above over the below. (The winner of an Olympic gold medal stands on the highest part of the platform, for example.) The epic quality of this concept is brought out well in Milton's Paradise Lost (1.19–22) :

Thou from the first
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread
Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss
And mad'st it pregnant

There is grandiosity, a victory-like triumph, in sitting "far above" and looking down at "that crowd".

So far so crushingly obvious. Simply consider the common phrase : "I look down on you."

We sit far above that crowd,
perched as spirits, not beasts.


"perched" is a brilliant word here, a poetic word, one that in this context fits just as well in, say, Keats and Shakespeare. For example:

Feelest not a kindred pain,
To see such lovely eyes in swimming search
After some warm delight, that seems to perch
Dovelike in the dim cell lying beyond
Their upper lids? ("Endymion", 4.62–66)

The world is grown so bad,
that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. (Richard III.1.3.70-71)

"perched" suggests a rising up to that point, another note of victory and triumph, another note of strength. A rising up : just as a bird rises up from the sewage of the earth to the fresh air of freedom, perched up on the branch of the highest tree, looking down on us, the beasts, in our cesspool.

(Consider Dodd criticizing Freddy : at those times, do you think Dodd envisions Freddy perched high above the crowd? No. Dodd even excoriates Freddy in the following manner : "A horrible young man, you are. This is acting like an animal, a dirty animal that eats its own faeces when hungry.", 1:04:10)

So : "We", in this context, may very well suggest all those who follow Dodd's teachings, not just anyone.

You are not ruled by your emotions.

Here, Dodd spells out the message of this first teaching unadorned, directly, clearly.

In this teaching, Dodd does not explain how it is the case that we are not ruled by our emotions. If we are not ruled by our emotions, are we ruled by anything at all inside us? If we are ruled by something inside us, what might it be? Obviously, a good guess in Dodd's case would be this initial statement : "We can be ruled by our minds."

It is not only possible,
it is easily achievable
that we do away
with all negative
emotional impulses,
and bring man back to his
inherent state of perfect.


To begin :

It is not only possible,
it is easily achievable


This phraseology cleverly suggests the aggressive pitter-patter of a salesman at work. That said, the phrase doesn't have to evoke this; the phrase would work fine within a responsible philosophical work. This point is raised here because of an inherent ambiguity of Dodd's character, encoded in him by PTA.

It is not only possible,
it is easily achievable
that we do away
with all negative
emotional impulses,
and bring man back to his
inherent state of perfect.


"we do away"—that is to say, we educate ourselves. We educate ourselves to the point of recreating ourselves so that we gain the power of reaching the perch high above the crowd stuck below in the cesspool of life.

we do away
with all negative
emotional impulses


Dodd has no problem with emotion. A good guess is that he knows the philosopher Heidegger well (ἀλήθεια is a vital Heideggerian word), and Heidegger in his Being and Time instructs us : "In every case Dasein (i.e., the "I") always has some mood." (1.5) In other words, if you're alive, you're in some mood or other : just as you blink and breathe.

But Dodd has a problem with "negative emotional impulses"—just here he doesn't elaborate, but a good guess from the context is that he means anything that stops our upward movement from "animal" to "perfect". In other words, the degrees of error and delusion that keep us from rising.

In short : What stops us from becoming Great? Our servitude to our impulsive emotions and mistaken thinking.

So, to rewrite so far :

it is easy
to do away
with all things
that stop our development . . .

*

and bring man back to his
inherent state of perfect.


(btw : Dodd : " . . . and correcting it back to its inherent state of perfect.", 58:25)

inherent state of perfect : What does Dodd mean here? He means what the poet Shelley meant : every new-born baby has the possibility to become Colossally Great.

"back"—we lose this "inherent state" as soon as we are born, because Tyranny automatically destroys our potential for a lifetime, except for the rare few. And for those rare few, life punishes them mercilessly. Still, at any rate, Dodd has arrived on Earth in order to "save" people from imperfection, and turn the rare few into mighty intelligent masses.

Nice dream. As Freddy dreams . . . in the movie theatre . . . "How are we gonna tie this together, Casper?" (An amusing PTA joke, as in : How the hell are we gonna finish this movie?)

*

Dodd's teaching 1 :

We are much more than what we think we are. If we use our minds to our fullest potential possible, we can pull ourselves out of everything that is not ourselves and become an Individual, and live far, far away from the crowd of life-to-death suckers and failures called the ordinary human population (the beasts who follow impulses). Only through the power of the mind can we save ourselves. Otherwise, you're already lost, you're a slave; and you're already dead : you just haven't received the telegram yet.

But Dodd is here to help. Educate yourself, and you can achieve the Amazing. You can become much more than you ever thought you could be, and achieve much more than you ever thought possible of yourself.

You must educate yourself. Now what does that mean? Find out, or stay lost till the last.

Good luck.

End of Lesson 1
Title: first two shots of The Master
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 12:59:48 PM
first two shots of The Master

The Sea.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/03/e2/62/03e262e8ef40069412957fde6220ba75.jpg)

Freddy looking one way, then the other.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/67/db/9c/67db9c6ceda73b87febef48a32ae1511.jpg)

Freddy putting on his helmet : beginning his journey. Looking all around him.

What does he see?

Abyss all round.

This is a symbolic opening.

He puts on fighting gear.

The hostile world is everywhere. No choice but to fight, or slowly die.

Not "war", Readers. World.

This is a symbolic opening.

Apropos pic one : "That's a pussy, a lady's pussy." (6:29)
Title: one shot of The Master
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 01:28:56 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a5/da/38/a5da38074b7e713a4319d5f342b3381b.jpg)

(5:21) The one doing nothing is the one everyone is paying attention to. Why do you think that is? Is Freddy simply a funny target for the idle soldiers to have a laugh at, to pass the time? What else might be happening here? An initial remark before an answer : Freddy, in more than one early scene, is, in this scene, too, the focal point for the other characters, the other men.
Title: Two forms of narrative
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 04:04:23 PM
The movie meant to be watched many times is aimed, at all times in the narrative, toward different absorption processes in the Spectator than a movie meant to be watched once. In the "ordinary mode" of film narrative, call it the 1930s mode (call it the mode of "the film meant to be watched once"), a 1930s mode such as Irrational Man, the audience knows at all times what is going on and doesn't need to think for a moment. The look of a film like Irrational Man (meant to be watched once) will use various geometrical conceits (strong diagonals to evoke unsettlement, for a common example) as well as lighting effects and whatnot to evoke excitement and so on in the viewer. Hopefully, the story itself will have encoded in it a momentum that rises the blood in the Spectator.

The movie meant to be watched many times works differently to this. While the "ordinary mode", the 1930s mode of, say, Irrational Man, will transfer energy from film to Spectator (any work of art is first and foremost energy that affects the Spectator before being understood as "about something"), still and all, the experience of watching a movie in the 1930s mode (a movie to be seen once) is to See the Story. But in the movie meant to be watched many times, in some sequences at least, the transfer of energy has a priority over the story. The story, however, will not be compromised, not for a moment if the narrative is created by a first-rate storyteller. Even so, a percentage of the energy-transfer between Artwork and Spectator—in other words a percentage of the rejuvenatory aspect of art—will be connected more to the transfer of energy, and less to the story. This is intentional. The energy-transfer acts in the manner of a pharmaceutical drug.

And the Spectator feels all the better for the energy-transfer.

The Master is a movie meant to be watched many times. It is full of secrets, full of depth that communicates with the intuition and the unconscious, and it actively engages with the process of energy-transfer, rather than passively allowing it to happen "naturally" as it does in the 1930s mode of storytelling. Yes, all movies communicate with the Spectator's intuition and unconscious; all art does. Yet only first-rate artists use this fact in their favor; that is to say, are intelligent enough to do so.

The Master is a movie meant to be watched many times.

Think of Freddy on the motorcycle. What is the motorcycle? Let it be the engine of the narrative. Like a missile moving on unvarying at speed. That can be you.
Title: Freddy and the Darkness
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 04:24:59 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d3/ce/73/d3ce73be56f675816ba6e64f2adf1136.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/3d/25/d23d25d6c196695f8d987f576e8bd1f0.jpg)
Title: Freddy Dodd
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 05:45:23 PM
Dodd : "Man is not an animal."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/85/43/5b/85435bc9c564735e6f1e6a01bf4c547f.jpg)
Does Freddy contradict that remark simply by being himself, a procreative homo sapiens? (34:20)
Title: Lancaster Quell
Post by: Scrooby on March 07, 2023, 05:53:46 PM
"You are not ruled by your emotions."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/13/54/72/13547252a9588f8e364aa46e83edbbb6.jpg)

"Pig fxck!" Freddy in Dodd? (1:00:20)
Title: Informal Processing : Incredible Transitions
Post by: Scrooby on March 08, 2023, 09:28:47 AM
Informal Processing : Two Incredible Transitions

DODD : Would you care for some informal processing? (36:24)

Dodd asks Freddy a series of questions. The experience triggers in Freddy a vision. We, the audience, being gods, see the vision inside Freddy's head. Freddy is brought out of the vision-space by Dodd, and the two subsequently share a genial drink together. (36:24–52:27)

Theory : This sequence is historic in the work of PTA for its sustained genius of storytelling. The magnitude of PTA's achievement in this sequence requires even initial thoughts on the subject to be broken down piecemeal into a series of posts.

In this post I remark on two transitions in the sequence, "Informal Processing".

TRANSITION 1

(44:39)
DODD : What do you hear?
FREDDY (eyes closed; inside the vision) : Voices inside.

Freddy says "Voices inside" to explain the house he has arrived at. Standing at the front door, he hears voices inside the house. Indeed, the house is not empty of people.

"Voices inside" has a more general signification in the context of this scene : the voices inside Freddy's head. Heard this way, Freddy's pronouncement, "Voices inside", might be a judgment from Lancaster Dodd himself. (In this signification, Freddy's remark has a scientific vibe, as of psychology or psychoanalysis.)

TRANSITION 2

(50:00)
FREDDY: I'll be back.

Freddy says this to Doris in the dream, but it overlaps with his transition back to Dodd in the present day of the Situation.

DODD : Release and return to me. Open your eyes. Say your name.
FREDDY : Freddie Quell.

"I'll be back."—who is speaking to what?

Two fascinating transitions from a first-rate storyteller.

Title: The Master class (11) : the dual gesture
Post by: Scrooby on March 08, 2023, 08:09:52 PM
The Master class (11): the Dual Gesture

(36:24)
DODD : Would you care for some informal processing?
FREDDY : Sure. What do I have to do?
DODD : Just answer my questions, we talk.
FREDDY : OK.
DODD : Very good. Have a seat. How are you feeling, Freddie?
FREDDY : Good.
DODD : You rested?
FREDDY : Yes.
DODD : Excited?
FREDDY : Yeah.
DODD : Have you made some friends?
FREDDY : Everyone is very nice here.
DODD : Good. Good. How are you feeling?
FREDDY : Yeah, good.
DODD : I gather myself. You'll be my guinea pig and protégé. Informal processing. Are you ready?
FREDDY : Yes.
DODD : Say your name.

It's very possible that Dodd is being entirely a buddy to Freddy, and that's that. Perhaps it's also possible that Dodd may have some degree of "bedside manner" (so to speak, like a surgeon preparing his patient for the operation by putting him at ease). Being kind and polite serves two purposes for Dodd here : he is both genuine in his friendship, yet also calculating in his work. (Dodd serves his Master : his Work.)

The takeaway here is the concept of the dual gesture.
Title: The Master class (12) : Informal Processing as Metaphor
Post by: Scrooby on March 09, 2023, 10:26:21 AM
The Master class (12) : Informal Processing as Metaphor


DODD : How are you feeling, Freddie?
FREDDY : Good.
DODD : You rested?
FREDDY : Yes.
DODD : Excited?
FREDDY : Yeah.
DODD : Have you made some friends?
FREDDY : Everyone is very nice here.
DODD : Good. Good. How are you feeling?
FREDDY : Yeah, good.

Notice the repetition here. Repetition is a fundamental structural element of the questioning procedure of Informal Processing. But this repetition comes before the Informal Processing has begun. We might explain this as a further example of the Dual Gesture. Instead, just now, let's say that all human interaction is as Informal Processing. The successful degree of manipulation in each interaction depends on the powers of persuasory hypnotism of the principals involved.

That's this post's point : The process of Informal Processing is a metaphor for all human interaction.
Title: The Master class (13) : The Ladder
Post by: Scrooby on March 09, 2023, 03:13:45 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7c/76/7d/7c767dcd606dbcf1007649cd078bccfc.jpg)
The ladder, en route to the Master, 22:12
Title: The Master class (14) : Colossal Fundamental
Post by: Scrooby on March 10, 2023, 04:33:04 AM
The Master class (14) : Colossal Fundamental

(38:42)
DODD : Are you often consumed by envy?
FREDDY : No, about what?
DODD : Are you often consumed by envy?
FREDDY : I don't unders. . . You mean like jealousy?
DODD : Like jealousy.
FREDDY : Oh, well, yeah. I don't like someone else's hands on my girls. I don't like to think about it. It makes me sick.

This is a colossally important moment, which the first-rate storyteller makes light of at the end—a deft technique of the best.

A colossally important moment, because it reveals an Essential about Freddy.

DODD : Are you often consumed by envy?
FREDDY : No, about what?

That "envy" is alien to Freddy's way of thinking reveals in the strongest way possible how independent he is—Freddy is a true Individual, someone set apart, an outsider.

And this gets complicated now that he has met the Master, but more on that later

A first-rate storyteller often uses the technique of "making light" of a fundamental, or just after the revelation of a fundamental, and here, too, it is :

FREDDY : I don't unders. . . You mean like jealousy?
DODD : Like jealousy.
FREDDY : Oh, well, yeah. I don't like someone else's hands on my girls. I don't like to think about it. It makes me sick.

A joke. The enormity of the revelation of a character fundamental—Freddy's indomitable individualism (why not put it, "God's lonely man"?) —is reduced to a joke.

And it won't be the only spot of humor in the Informal Processing, but more on that later.
Title: The Master class (15) : How are you feeling?
Post by: Scrooby on March 10, 2023, 05:11:56 AM
The Master class (15) : How are you feeling?

(36:38)
DODD : How are you feeling, Freddie?
FREDDY : Good.
DODD : You rested?
FREDDY : Yes.
DODD : Excited?
FREDDY : Yeah.
DODD : Have you made some friends?
FREDDY : Everyone is very nice here.
DODD : Good. Good. How are you feeling?
FREDDY : Yeah, good.

First of all :

(26:59)
- Big day indeed, sir.
- How are you feeling?

(31:58)
- How are you feeling?
- Back beyond.

Moving on :

Is Dodd making happen the affirmative responses in Freddy?

DODD : How are you feeling, Freddie?
FREDDY : Good.
DODD : You rested?
FREDDY : Yes.
DODD : Excited?
FREDDY : Yeah.
DODD : Have you made some friends?
FREDDY : Everyone is very nice here.
DODD : Good. Good. How are you feeling?
FREDDY : Yeah, good.

We can imagine how in another context Freddy might respond in an resistant manner to every question. Dodd has soothed him. Dodd's speculations—"You rested?", "Excited?"—are correct. Their correctness contributes to Freddy's calm. Freddy is sober, yet calm; because he is in the domain of the Master. He is meant to be here, if in fact the two complete a whole : the one mind of PTA, for example. Doesn't Dodd spend the film wondering how and when he and Freddy first met? Since their relationship has a "meant to be" quality about it—both characters sense it—it thereby makes sense that Dodd, too, would automatically understand Freddy, regardless of Dodd's genius at reading people and his psychoanalytic eye, though those elements are suggested here. Dodd knows how Freddy is feeling because Freddy is a part of Dodd. Each feels an essential element in the other (though preponderances of secrets remain).

DODD : Good. Good. How are you feeling?
FREDDY : Yeah, good.

Note how Freddy parrots the "good". But Dodd is doing this, too :

DODD : How are you feeling, Freddie?
FREDDY : Good.

Each is looking into a mirror and seeing the other.
Title: The Master class (15) : Where is the Vision?
Post by: Scrooby on March 10, 2023, 06:38:15 AM
The Master class (15) : Where is the Vision?

Dodd puts Freddy in a state of self-hypnosis. Freddy becomes suspended in a Vision which reduces him to a stasis of closed-eyed inwardness for a duration of time.

Because these Visions may not simply be defined as "memories" (more on this nowhere), what else is going on here? (One always says, "what else?", because in the Dream-Logic, nothing ever means only one thing.)

Freddy arrives at a well-ordered homestead. A Mother-figure embraces him. An innocent sixteen-year-old girl kisses him on the cheek.

(45:40) Nature (think of mushrooms). Freddy's personality has stamped this image (so to speak) : nature contending with concrete.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/33/53/29/33532942d30f31edfe4e8c59ed4f418a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/70/5c/db/705cdbf97620a78307e037b20ef1b9e0.jpg)
(47.50) A churchly vibe is sustained by the pure marble and Doris's purity; yet the painting behind them looks like a secular eighteenth-century situation, arguably unsuitable for a church; and then there's the chandelier to consider. Note the framing : the icy streams are visual depictions of his Vision streaming from his head. This is a dream-place in the manner of the end-room of 2001: A Space Odyssey. This particular space is a dream-amalgamation of different places and imagery : marble from a church, the chandelier from someplace else, the painting from a museum, or seen in a book, the finely-carven swags behind them, at first glance reminiscent of deep-sea creatures, could be imagery dredged up from his own personal Faculty of Creation. The provenance of all these items is immaterial : the theory here is that this shot is a Dream-Vision, an amalgamation of elements joined together to make a location in the mind, rather than a memory of a specific location.
Title: The Master class (16) : who you are
Post by: Scrooby on March 11, 2023, 05:15:27 AM
The Master class (16) : "who you are"

(37:38)
"just to make sure you know who you are."

The Dual Gesture. Is this simply a joke, to continue to put Freddy at ease, as he slips into a Vision state? Is this also, from where Dodd is sitting, somewhat of a quiet jibe, considering, from Dodd's POV, Freddy has zero idea of himself? A quiet aggression. At any rate, a component of a successful manipulation. Slot this post into the Ambiguity of Dodd.
Title: Ladder of the Mind
Post by: Scrooby on March 12, 2023, 05:54:41 AM
The Ladder of the Mind

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bc/40/71/bc407135be55fe060f3dce87c887a5c8.jpg)

Gustave Courbet
Title: Kane Canal
Post by: Scrooby on March 12, 2023, 09:58:47 AM
The Master : "New York City, through the canal." (22:42)

Citizen Kane : Do you think if it hadn't been for that war of Mr. Kane's we'd have the Panama Canal?" (48:49)
Title: The Master class (17) : Darkness, Sympathy, Freedom
Post by: Scrooby on March 12, 2023, 11:35:40 AM
The Master class (17) : Darkness, Sympathy, Freedom

Darkness

Note the encroachment of dark on Freddy while immersed in the Vision-State.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c8/a9/b2/c8a9b29aa39c5784f4a33055db319161.jpg)
The dark cloud of Freddy's memories.


Sympathy

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d3/49/c2/d349c26869b77f16d98555ac251413eb.jpg)

The Master regards Freddy with sympathy. We might theorize this sympathy is founded in a genuine sorrow for Freddy's waywardness and lostness. Yet these two negative attributes are at the same time connected to the symbolic value of Freddy as : freedom. Recall that Freddy and Dodd are two aspects of one character (PTA's mind). So when Dodd regards Freddy sympathetically, consider (a) the Dual Gesture, and (b) each character looking into the Mirror of the other. Dodd regarding Freddy sympathetically is Dodd regarding himself sympathetically : because the hyper-responsible Dodd has himself lost the ability (apparently) to embark on flights of such Visionary Freedom (because the stressful exigencies of life has distracted the Master off the purest path). (Mourning the loss of his visionary powers may be connected with his taste for Freddy's potions of "secrets".) So when Dodd watches Freddy tunnel into a Vision-State, there may be a sense in Dodd's mind of the "what might have been" for himself.

Similarly, if Freddy hadn't been cursed with negative genetics, he might have reached a height of achievement and responsibility equivalent at least to the Master.

But such is life, for both of them.

Elevator

While Freddy is Freedom, this shot captures the general life-mood of Lancaster Dodd

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fb/a1/f1/fba1f1e4d55eaf3514cbfee1e8b49e70.jpg)

Slow Boat to China

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/09/1b/0d/091b0d5f1a7c7ba652ac20d4456aff3f.jpg)

Why does Dodd sing this song at the end? One reason which fits in here, thus expressed here : the dream of escaping into the dream. To flee the "pig fxcks" of people, and to live "all to myself alone" : the blessed dreamstate of the artist.

The state Freddy slips into during Informal Processing.
Title: One Shot in The Master : Medical Church
Post by: Scrooby on March 12, 2023, 07:02:01 PM
One Shot of The Master

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/a6/65/c6a665079a0629f7099c98b771247b64.jpg)
Notice the three doors in this shot from Hitchcock's Vertigo. Madeleine has four colors associated with her; three are here in the color of the doors : green, grave-brown , and purple. The one color missing is red.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/62/c7/1b62c7e83568825003c7329257dc252a.jpg)
Now notice a similar three-sectioned film frame. This shot from The Master is a spree of symbolism.

Step-By-Step

Recall the ladder in the previous shot, when Freddy awakens (consider that symbolism). Now notice the staircase visible through the doorway. A staircase is often a symbol of spiritual travel, just as a doorway is a symbol of significant passage. Here we have both together! (And after a shot with a ladder!) Visible here is an intense stargate-like vibe of journeying and progression.

Color

The white staircase and ambience it occupies suggest an antiseptic medical vibe. This vibe corresponds with the scientific aspects of Dodd. The color white also evokes the purity of religion; while the staircase is an emblem of the spiritual Upward Reach (e.g., Jacob's Ladder; any virtuous effort). The antiseptic ambience and the staircase's spare geometric design evoke inhumanness, nihilism. The futural feel recalls 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The vibe beyond the door is of a medical church.

On the left of the screen is the color red. If we speak of the church, then in that context one Red Entity is the Devil : a threat to the sanctity of the self.

With this red and white is the black, the abyssal black. We can assign this black to Freddy; to the ambiguity of Dodd; to nihilism; and so on. We can conclude what we like from the contrast between light and dark. We can think about things forever.

Note the blurry shimmering element in the frame. This foregrounded blur contrasts with the severe-clear lines of the staircase, and the rivets in the door-frame.

Also notice a similarity in visual quality between the red shimmering and the blackness it opposes. . . .

Meanwhile, within this spree of symbolism, is a visible human being, and all that means.
Title: The Master : the twinkling of an eye
Post by: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 05:34:21 AM
Let's amalgamate two fundamental streams of thought here.

1. CHARACTER : Freddy is freedom, the freedom of the artist living in their interior world in the process of creation. In that time, the artist is set apart, an outsider, a rebel—since Truth has been rebellious since at least the year 1AD, to pluck a date at random. The Master Lancaster Dodd, however, must interact responsibly with the assembly of people around him if his life-plans are to become a reality, because Dodd requires the technical assistance of the outside world. For this reason, he has ceased to have the time to follow his own teaching, having become, instead, exclusively a militant teacher of his already established views. Dodd has to argue for his Views in the same way that a film-star used to publicize a film a year after production : some amount of enthusiasm has been lost from the effort. Consider, Reader : Dodd himself never undergoes his Teaching; he never has a Revelation of his own.

1b. Since we're just sitting here calmly by the fire as at the end of The Thing (1982), and time hasn't any point anymore, since nothing does, your calm author at these last of times may as well contribute an addendum to number one, though usually, up to now, the posts here under the name of Scrooby have been as efficient as one might hope when administering medicine to oneself. So, with that rambling preamble behind us, here goes for the sharply efficient thought : Why does it take Lancaster Dodd the duration of the film to determine the nature of his past relationship with Freddy, when one dose of his own treatment might have dredged up the knowledge in the twinkling of an eye?

2. PTA : At the moment screenwriter PTA prepares to translate his Vision to the screen, time for embellishment or change to the details has narrowed to a great degree; because PTA hasn't the resources that Kubrick had. PTA has only a limited amount of money and must produce his goods at significant speed. So when PTA-as-Dodd has assumed his responsibility on the production, his ability to act like a Freddy is extremely limited : He simply has no time for confrontations. PTA-the-director is stuck in the work, like the Master

An artwork is a memorial for lost freedom. Good news : the memorial inspires the next to scale the ladder.
Title: The Master : "I believe I suffered . . . nostalgia."
Post by: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 05:48:41 AM
"I believe I suffered what, in your profession, you call nostalgia." (7:54)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/24/42/1e/24421ef9eb256a0065018fc848500b9d.jpg)
(1:37:10)
Title: The Master : one shot : five rack focus
Post by: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 06:25:30 AM
one shot : five rack focus

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/05/6f/0e/056f0e3c9247b6de23eeba77397f8e45.jpg)
(19:06-20:27 ἀλήθεια) Are we watching Fassbinder?
Title: The Master class (18) : the End Situation
Post by: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 07:22:25 AM
The Master class (18) : the End Situation

Here's the thing. We're not skipping to the Emerald City. The Wizard revealed there leads to no spreeful emotional uplift. By "there" your author means the End. PTA is a Freddy freewheeling with the Truth to the extent that the Master is successfully exposed willy-nilly by Freddy's presence : one Truth at the end of The Master is that there is only militancy. The film itself decides on a sober and melancholiac conclusion to our hero of Freedom, Freddy Quell. (Before your free-as-a-bird author just here elaborates, recall how PTA humiliates Woodcock's sister by not allowing her a summing-up scene at the end of PT, but discards this character as if she had never commanded any focus of the film.) Return now to The Master. At the end, the film decides to reduce Freddy to a tearful sludge in the manner of the weak and moronic Dr. Bill at the end of EWS. How is it that Freddy, who is so full of crazy vitality throughout the film, is reduced to a weeping weaking, after all those years interacting with Dodd the Inspiring Master?

Freddy pays attention to the neatness of Dodd's wardrobe when they get close (2:00:49), just as Freddy says "mm-hm" upon completing the successful potion of secrets at (39:38). This "mm-hm" is a very important minor utterance just there, because usually Freddy is quite the antisocial character, but, just there, this "mm-hm" sounds as if Freddy is somewhat pleased and excited about the outcome, suggesting he is eager to interact with Dodd. Freddy is eager once again to interact with society. But . . .

2:00:49 recalls the militant Kane assisting with Thatcher's coat in Kane, but let's move on.

In short : The Master eventually humiliates Freddy. The film abandons him at a position not much different from what we saw of him at the first. The whole Dodd episode in his life has left him with a handful of language to deploy, sure; and this language haunting his conversation at the end is evidence that the experience with Dodd has impressed itself on Freddy to some significant degree—yet we see no difference in Freddy's behavior at the end of the film. This stasis in the character of Freddy suggests that his experience with the Master is nothing more than a Historical event in Freddy's life, a Nostalgia in Freddy's mind. That's the sum total of the years of the Master in Freddy's mind. Dodd's teachings didn't transform Freddy into a better man.

Meanwhile, out in the world, Dodd and family and others continue to fight to grow this failed teaching into all-encompassing reality. Freddy's been abandoned. If he cannot conform—if the results of the Master's teaching won't pay off in him—than it's easier to pretend he doesn't exist, and that the failure that eventuated was all on his part.

By the end of the film, Dodd and Peggy have chosen Power.

Freddy, as human, has nothing to do with Power. So he is brushed aside and left to live out the rest of his life, which the film has decided is of no interest to communicate. Freddy's gone. But the Freedom he represents still exists.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 06:13:38 PM
Your humble author is calm with clonazepam and other NHS-prescribed medication to keep him from who knows what; so in this state, let us meander for a moment about story fundamentals. Take a bad guy out to cause damage to someone. Take one guy who breaks into a house in the middle of nowhere in the middle of night. Take another guy who walks among a sunlit lake of 40,000 celebrants on a holiday weekend. Both are seeking a victim to eliminate. This is the character fundamental. The drive to carry out such an act is based in something deep in the psyche of the character. Let us call it a madness, a rage. But this madness, this rage, comes out in these examples in two different situations. One is a quiet night apart from the madding crowd; the other takes place amid 40,000 witnesses amid a wide expanse on a sunny day. What is the difference between the two characters? They are acting out their rage in different situations, in different locations. So what? The different situation, the different location, are not what is vital here. These elements are nothing more than wrapping paper. The fundamental character motivation is the essential for the audience to consider : Rage : What Is It? : all else is Hollywood rubbish.

Who needs an infinite number of stories on essentially the same subject? Imbeciles and Corporations.

First-rate storytellers know what a story is. But they don't tell. They just show.

P.S. It seems I accelerated right to a powerful fundamental of The Master. My work there is done.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on March 13, 2023, 07:41:28 PM
Quote from: Scrooby on March 13, 2023, 06:13:38 PMSo what? The different situation, the different location, are not what is vital here. These elements are nothing more than wrapping paper. The fundamental character motivation is the essential for the audience to consider : Rage : What Is It? : all else is Hollywood rubbish.

Who needs an infinite number of stories on essentially the same subject? Imbeciles and Corporations.

First-rate storytellers know what a story is. But they don't tell. They just show.

P.S. It seems I accelerated right to a powerful fundamental of The Master. My work there is done.


Completely agree. And 'character' must be defined from many angles and moments. Many modern mainstream films hinge their character on a singular choice or a singular 'mode.' John Wick iz no different from Evelyn iz no different from a superhero or Toretto. Trials in cinema have been mistaken for genre beats, in a sense, when the drama of watching a character go through trials is uncovering/discovering who they are in the shifting decisions myriad. Anything less isn't only two-dimensional, it's a chance for audiences and studios both to coast.
Title: postscript
Post by: Scrooby on March 14, 2023, 04:46:58 AM
All right. Shining WorldForgot. Dilution compromises the curative properties of medicines. What people have not yet awoken to, or, perhaps they are just now awakening to it, is the fact that the Horrible Media has had no idea how to tell a story for fifty years or thereabouts. The concept of what a story is and can be is, incredibly, has been lost. With rare exceptions, of course.

Why is the authentic artist necessary for the health of a nation?

Example : the self-defined BBC ("impartial") describes our number-one pharmacy in the UK, Boots, as "Owned by U.S. Walgreens." Now that is a bald-faced lie. Walgreens is wholly owned by a private Swiss company. A small lie (to some; I don't think so); but let us call it a small lie : but multiply this small lie by infinity, and then imagine the rest of your life 24/7.

Now consider the authentic artist and how valuable they are. Only the authentic artist inspires you to seek Truth. Authentic artists are your friends on earth.

Personal note : The world is farcical beyond what this author envisoned in his GRIMWOOD in 2005. In that novel, your humble author imagined a man and woman so cold-hearted and inhuman that your author thought the book barely believable. Point is, my horrible man and woman in 2005 are the ordinary folk running our Tyranny in 2023. To each their own, sure; people around us don't have to truly care. But a part of living in Dreamworlds and not truly caring is Suckerdom for a lifetime. That, too, irritates the artist—that people fight to remain suckers. So why should authentic artists continue? Why fight for imbeciles? Imbeciles who have no idea a fight is even taking place?

What is left to say, what is left to explore, when no one is listening?

Your humble author is thinking. Your blacklisted author. The author someone here back in 2020 said, "Oh, it's just one review".
Title: Oedipus strikes back
Post by: Scrooby on March 15, 2023, 08:58:33 AM
Here we are at the end times. Return to Oedipus by Sophocles.

Οἰδίπους
ὦ τέκνα, Κάδμου τοῦ πάλαι νέα τροφή,
τίνας ποθ᾽ ἕδρας τάσδε μοι θοάζετε
ἱκτηρίοις κλάδοισιν ἐξεστεμμένοι;

At line 1 Oedipus enters, looks, defines. Oedipus is Reason. He is the emblem of Power Upright and Stable on Its Foundation. And the man's understanding is communicated efficiently to the people.

πόλις δ᾽ ὁμοῦ μὲν θυμιαμάτων γέμει,
ὁμοῦ δὲ παιάνων τε καὶ στεναγμάτων:

And yet he has no idea what is going on. Oedipus has no idea that the assemblies in the city signify apocalyptic times. Arguably worst of all, Oedipus has no idea that he is the cause of the apocalypse.

ἁγὼ δικαιῶν μὴ παρ᾽ ἀγγέλων, τέκνα,
ἄλλων ἀκούειν αὐτὸς ὧδ᾽ ἐλήλυθα,
ὁ πᾶσι κλεινὸς Οἰδίπους καλούμενος.

There is too much happening here to communicate. Let it be stressed that whatever Oedipus is speaking of—no matter how complex it might be, and how many interpretations one might apply to his language—his language itself, his point of view, his position before he even speaks, is as a character in a play—and somehow he knows this : at times the language of Oedipus overlaps with the Frame.

There is intermixture with Oedipus the play and the audience of Oedipus the play. Local news will be alluded to in Oedipus the play that will have had local relevance to the audience at the time.

Just here, Oedipus is celebrating his application of Doing the Right Thing : his appearing before the people to investigate the city's situation first-hand. He speaks of the citizens before him, of whom the Priest of Zeus is one, as "children". He describes the scent of incense drifting along the streets, yet doesn't panic at its implication of apocalypse.

What day is it? A gathering of the citizens may be uncommon, and even more so on a workday. And bothering the King? Who has the audacity, or the desperation, to bother the King on his doorstep?

Yet the King is flattered—because the citizens are gathered also at the steps of the two temples of Athena. King Oedipus and Athena are associated here with a saving grace. Oedipus is equated favorably with a god.

So leave it to the old man, the Priest of Zeus, to remind the King that Oedipus is no god. The old man repeatedly insults Oedipus the King, intentionally or otherwise, throughout a speech meant to strike the ear of the population favorably.

The Priest of Zeus may not have appreciated Oedipus addressing him so curtly. ("Old man, speak.") It is not that Oedipus is sparing in speech, hence a brusque manner; because after prompting the old man to speak with this short command, Oedipus immediately goes on to explain at length his decision to address the old man in the first place.

Oedipus is a spree of Reason. He concludes his opening speech by reasonably speaking of himself as one more reasonable entity in a reasonable world. He speaks as certainly about himself as he spoke about the Priest of Zeus. Oedipus here celebrates his Power. This Power may save the people, so is worth celebrating. (Nobody knows anything yet.)

ἀλλ᾽ ὦ γεραιέ, φράζ᾽, ἐπεὶ πρέπων ἔφυς
πρὸ τῶνδε φωνεῖν, τίνι τρόπῳ καθέστατε,
δείσαντες ἢ στέρξαντες; ὡς θέλοντος ἂν
ἐμοῦ προσαρκεῖν πᾶν: δυσάλγητος γὰρ ἂν
εἴην τοιάνδε μὴ οὐ κατοικτίρων ἕδραν.

Oedipus enters, looks, defines; then the Priest of Zeus parrots all that, and adds details. This adding of details may irritate the King. For what doesn't Oedipus the King understand? Is this Priest of Zeus colossally insulting?

Ἱερεύς
ἀλλ᾽ ὦ κρατύνων Οἰδίπους χώρας ἐμῆς,
ὁρᾷς μὲν ἡμᾶς ἡλίκοι προσήμεθα
βωμοῖσι τοῖς σοῖς: οἱ μὲν οὐδέπω μακρὰν
πτέσθαι σθένοντες, οἱ δὲ σὺν γήρᾳ βαρεῖς,
ἱερῆς, ἐγὼ μὲν Ζηνός, οἵδε τ᾽ ᾐθέων
λεκτοί: τὸ δ᾽ ἄλλο φῦλον ἐξεστεμμένον
ἀγοραῖσι θακεῖ πρός τε Παλλάδος διπλοῖς
ναοῖς, ἐπ᾽ Ἰσμηνοῦ τε μαντείᾳ σποδῷ.

Reader, imagine lighting a fire, then looking into the ashes left behind and reading a prophecy of the future. Aren't ashes in all other contexts discarded usually as expeditiously as possible (such as the ashes of a cigarette, or the ashes of the dearly departed)? Here, the ashes, remnants of an incendiary life now gone, are not defined as detritus and discarded. The ashes are visited as doorways to Vision. Death has opened up a doorway to see through to—what?

μαντείᾳ σποδῷ—prophetic ashes.

πόλις γάρ, ὥσπερ καὐτὸς εἰσορᾷς, ἄγαν
ἤδη σαλεύει κἀνακουφίσαι κάρα
βυθῶν ἔτ᾽ οὐχ οἵα τε φοινίου σάλου,
φθίνουσα μὲν κάλυξιν ἐγκάρποις χθονός,
φθίνουσα δ᾽ ἀγέλαις βουνόμοις τόκοισί τε
ἀγόνοις γυναικῶν: ἐν δ᾽ ὁ πυρφόρος θεὸς
σκήψας ἐλαύνει, λοιμὸς ἔχθιστος, πόλιν,
ὑφ᾽ οὗ κενοῦται δῶμα Καδμεῖον, μέλας δ᾽
Ἅιδης στεναγμοῖς καὶ γόοις πλουτίζεται.

Here, clearly, is insanity. The Priest of Zeus is hair-splitting. The Priest of Zeus is using Reason to hair-split with Oedipus, the Cause of the Catastrophe—though neither of whom knows this important fact. The situation is ludicrous from every angle.

θεοῖσι μέν νυν οὐκ ἰσούμενόν σ᾽ ἐγὼ
οὐδ᾽ οἵδε παῖδες ἑζόμεσθ᾽ ἐφέστιοι,
ἀνδρῶν δὲ πρῶτον ἔν τε συμφοραῖς βίου
κρίνοντες ἔν τε δαιμόνων συναλλαγαῖς:
ὅς γ᾽ ἐξέλυσας ἄστυ Καδμεῖον μολὼν
σκληρᾶς ἀοιδοῦ δασμὸν ὃν παρείχομεν,
καὶ ταῦθ᾽ ὑφ᾽ ἡμῶν οὐδὲν ἐξειδὼς πλέον
οὐδ᾽ ἐκδιδαχθείς, ἀλλὰ προσθήκῃ θεοῦ
λέγει νομίζει θ᾽ ἡμὶν ὀρθῶσαι βίον:

More insult from the Priest to Oedipus. This genius old man ascribes Oedipus' power of thought to a god. The Priest of Zeus might have flattered the king as being blessed with a godlike genius, but he doesn't put his words that way.

νῦν τ᾽, ὦ κράτιστον πᾶσιν Οἰδίπου κάρα,
ἱκετεύομέν σε πάντες οἵδε πρόστροποι
ἀλκήν τιν᾽ εὑρεῖν ἡμίν, εἴτε του θεῶν
φήμην ἀκούσας εἴτ᾽ ἀπ᾽ ἀνδρὸς οἶσθά του:
ὡς τοῖσιν ἐμπείροισι καὶ τὰς ξυμφορὰς
ζώσας ὁρῶ μάλιστα τῶν βουλευμάτων.
ἴθ᾽, ὦ βροτῶν ἄριστ᾽, ἀνόρθωσον πόλιν,
ἴθ᾽, εὐλαβήθηθ᾽: ὡς σὲ νῦν μὲν ἥδε γῆ
σωτῆρα κλῄζει τῆς πάρος προθυμίας:
ἀρχῆς δὲ τῆς σῆς μηδαμῶς μεμνώμεθα
στάντες τ᾽ ἐς ὀρθὸν καὶ πεσόντες ὕστερον.
ἀλλ᾽ ἀσφαλείᾳ τήνδ᾽ ἀνόρθωσον πόλιν:
ὄρνιθι γὰρ καὶ τὴν τότ᾽ αἰσίῳ τύχην
παρέσχες ἡμῖν, καὶ τανῦν ἴσος γενοῦ.
ὡς εἴπερ ἄρξεις τῆσδε γῆς, ὥσπερ κρατεῖς,
ξὺν ἀνδράσιν κάλλιον ἢ κενῆς κρατεῖν:
ὡς οὐδέν ἐστιν οὔτε πύργος οὔτε ναῦς
ἔρημος ἀνδρῶν μὴ ξυνοικούντων ἔσω.

The end of the Priest's speech is a rubbish of moronic truisms. Worse, is it another threat from a man whom Oedipus the King considers a nothing?

But who in the end is more of a nothing than Oedipus?

So, the beginning of Oedipus by Sophocles :

Oedipus considers himself above the Priest.
The Priest considers himself above Oedipus.
Both are morons.

Title: The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (III)
Post by: Scrooby on March 16, 2023, 07:10:18 AM
The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (III)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0e/d3/fc/0ed3fc4d39cbfeb2ede1e35a6c716876.jpg)
(1:24:14)

DODD : Freddie, stand in the middle of the room, please. Pick a spot over there, touch it, and describe it to me. . . .  Fine, fine. Walk to this window over here. Touch a spot on the window and describe it to me. . . ."

This scene insinuates itself, through a sort of parallel editing, into ten sequential minutes of running time, 1:24:14–1:34:47.

Let us explore this exercise.

a.
One thing is never only one thing. Freddy is meant to keep reinforcing that principle, by motivating his imagination into action to invent new ways of describing items already defined.

The repetition of this exercise, the implacable returning to the already-seen, to express it in a new way, to see it newly, the Repeated Doubling Back, is a Core Element of Revelation.

Something is up close but unknown. Keep looking.

b.
Ritual humiliation. Freddy doesn't convey anything of imaginative note that might impress the assembly of the Master's votaries.

c.
Repetition stirs the imagination. Repetition opens your eyes. Stick to it, and win; but the world conspires to break your concentration. Art demands your concentration. Whom would you rather trust?

d.
Repetition, in this exercise, is a synonym for knowledge. The more we know, the more positive energy of the Ages flows into the Situation and sweeps us who knows where. Stop, move on to something else . . . but why?
Title: twelve teachings of Dodd (I)
Post by: Scrooby on March 16, 2023, 11:14:27 AM
Man is not an animal.
We are not a part
of the animal kingdom.
We sit far above that crowd,
perched as spirits, not beasts.
You are not ruled by your emotions.
It is not only possible,
it is easily achievable
that we do away
with all negative
emotional impulses,
and bring man back to his
inherent state of perfect.

Notice the changes.
Title: five-syllable Oedipus
Post by: Scrooby on March 16, 2023, 12:30:32 PM
So the Priest of Zeus has spoken, and Oedipus responds.

Οἰδίπους
ὦ παῖδες οἰκτροί, γνωτὰ κοὐκ ἄγνωτά μοι
προσήλθεθ᾽ ἱμείροντες: εὖ γὰρ οἶδ᾽ ὅτι
60νοσεῖτε πάντες, καὶ νοσοῦντες, ὡς ἐγὼ
οὐκ ἔστιν ὑμῶν ὅστις ἐξ ἴσου νοσεῖ.
τὸ μὲν γὰρ ὑμῶν ἄλγος εἰς ἕν᾽ ἔρχεται
μόνον καθ᾽ αὑτὸν κοὐδέν᾽ ἄλλον, ἡ δ᾽ ἐμὴ
ψυχὴ πόλιν τε κἀμὲ καὶ σ᾽ ὁμοῦ στένει.
65ὥστ᾽ οὐχ ὕπνῳ γ᾽ εὕδοντά μ᾽ ἐξεγείρετε,
ἀλλ᾽ ἴστε πολλὰ μέν με δακρύσαντα δή,
πολλὰς δ᾽ ὁδοὺς ἐλθόντα φροντίδος πλάνοις:
ἣν δ᾽ εὖ σκοπῶν ηὕρισκον ἴασιν μόνην,
ταύτην ἔπραξα: παῖδα γὰρ Μενοικέως
70Κρέοντ᾽, ἐμαυτοῦ γαμβρόν, ἐς τὰ Πυθικὰ
ἔπεμψα Φοίβου δώμαθ᾽, ὡς πύθοιθ᾽ ὅ τι
δρῶν ἢ τί φωνῶν τήνδε ῥυσαίμην πόλιν.
καί μ᾽ ἦμαρ ἤδη ξυμμετρούμενον χρόνῳ
λυπεῖ τί πράσσει: τοῦ γὰρ εἰκότος πέρα
75ἄπεστι πλείω τοῦ καθήκοντος χρόνου.
ὅταν δ᾽ ἵκηται, τηνικαῦτ᾽ ἐγὼ κακὸς
μὴ δρῶν ἂν εἴην πάνθ᾽ ὅσ᾽ ἂν δηλοῖ θεός.

The one detail of note interesting to your author just now might possibly be the least interesting to the ordinary reader : syllables. Reader, would you care to hear that in that wordstack, there are only two words above four syllables in length? That is to say : there are two five-syllable words in that speech by Oedipus. The second is "ξυμμετρούμενον"—a heavy-duty word that demonstrates Oedipus' power of thought. Oedipus is rare among the citizens in his power of mind—in this instance his facility to impose calendrical time on undifferentiated temporality. The broad measure of the five-syllable "ξυμμετρούμενον"—the grandiosity of its personality—evokes the power of Measurement, of Definition, of Reason. Now what about the first word? Counting on our fingers, we discover that the word "ἐξεγείρετε" is five syllables in length. What does that word mean? Why would that word be five syllables in length unless, one would assume, it might have some sort of importance? The second word ("ξυμμετρούμενον"), for example, revealed the sharp mind of Oedipus, who solved the riddle of the Sphinx with no help from the city it was devastating. The first word "ἐξεγείρετε" is so uncommon a word it appears only one time in the entire text of Oedipus which comprises 9,736 words. How important can this word's meaning be that it competes in length of syllables with only one other word in the entire stanza? The word is translated generally as "awaken". To awake? That's it? It's a word-form that is seemingly found in Classical Greek only—a word appearing in Aeschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles, among a few others. Perhaps it, too, has a heavy-duty poetic function? How did Aeschylus use the word : "raise from the dead" (Choephori, 495, but in a highly metaphorical situation as well). Hmm. What if we approach the word from its components : ἐξεγείρετε begins with a prefix : ἐξ = ex = "out of". This is not just any sleep Oedipus is speaking of. This sleep is the metaphoric sleep of the misinformed. Before the end of Oedipus the play, the baby Oedipus, presumed long dead, will have been resurrected, to the horror of the living. Waking up to the Situation is the fundamental action of Oedipus the play, so why not draw out the concept of waking up to a notable length of five syllables?
Title: The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (IV)
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 02:20:39 AM
The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (IV)

(56:17)
"...It was of the utmost importance that you experience every detail, every specific detail, through all of your senses, of that memory, and that we go over it again and over it again and over it again until it loses its power."

Repetition returns. Dismantle; persist; reconstruct; advance. This effort requires a sustained concentration over a duration of time. No surprise then that there are more of Freddy than of the Master; though both are compromised at the end. It's a sick world, so why not get as sick as you can with it? Right, Woodcock? Why pussify halfway? vitae est avidus quisquis non vult mundo secum pereunte mori! The mirror of your phone is calling. Go to it. You're allowed to. Isn't it comfy to do what everyone else is doing? Just ask the Dead.
Title: The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (V)
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 02:35:24 AM
The Master class : twelve teachings of Dodd (V)

(1:07:03)
"I'm in love. We've all been in love. And when we're in love, we experience pleasure . . . and extreme pain. And that's what I'd like to talk about."

Dodd suggests that "extreme pain" is not an aberration of love, but a part of the process of love. To navigate successfully through a patch of "extreme pain" is to understand the process of the Situation. If we define love as a type a success, then we must equate extreme pain as an inherent vice of success. Pussies need not apply; only the strong earn the enduring energy of love.
Title: Dunkirk : editing
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 07:48:51 AM
Dunkirk : deft editing

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/26/46/d4/2646d4142e6c6be31864d246aa8ec244.jpg)
(28:11)

This shot shows us the subject looking off-screen. The duration of this shot, a track-in, is eleven seconds in duration.

We cut to the reverse : what he sees occupies three seconds of screen-time.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f3/96/e3/f396e395cc638c94f7a6eeff9a8422cd.jpg)
then cut to a new scene.

The editing uses a dramatic contrast in timing to convey the frenzied swallowed-up impact of the inescapably obliviated.
Title: Dunkirk Ballhaus
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 08:34:49 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1f/f5/ab/1ff5abd6f9427eabb1192eef240a7c36.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/79/e6/a2/79e6a20d757cd6e935bda6a2668e3991.jpg)
First shot of Dunkirk recalls title shot of The Marriage of Maria Braun (1978), cinematographer Michael Ballhaus.
Title: Extreme Distance
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 08:41:40 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bf/74/f8/bf74f8a94338fb228a5453dca229d367.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/aa/40/d2aa4024130457d2403256764d5c8123.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/02/ce/2e/02ce2ed7fbb9ac1489fc997b7a23c994.jpg)
Title: Happy Friday! Try to Unsee This
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 04:50:35 PM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f25CIL2UwrQ
Title: Film / Music
Post by: Scrooby on March 17, 2023, 09:10:42 PM
Did anybody care to wonder what was meant by the remark that there are moments in first-rate films, or even significant durations of time, in which the energy-transfer may have a priority (so to speak) over the story?

Far out. What does any of it mean?

Let's go over it. An artwork automatically transacts energy prior to the Spectator understanding the Artwork "as something" or "as about something". (How do we know this? Some duration of time takes place between absorption by the brain and recognition by Reason. Between the two is the Unconscious.) First-rate filmmakers who design their narratives to be seen not once but many times, guide the energy-transfer purposefully.   

What about the night Woodcock gives Alma her bedroom? Alma enters the room and shuts the door. The scene consists of her communicating without words.

Without words is the key concept here.

A shot in a film without dialogue is equivalent to music : the information enters the Spectator's mind as pure energy.

(Is that not a colossal comment here on Xixax? What more does Xixax want? Rather, why does Xixax want less?)

A shot in a film without dialogue is equivalent to music : the information enters the Spectator's mind as pure energy.

But words? Reason is Required to Understand Language.

Reason isn't required to absorb a silent Alma behind the door in her bedroom. The communication can be intuitive—similar to absorbing music.

Let's stop now, before anything is said. Let's not go too quickly here. This is a complicated situation. Like The Master and all of his repetition, let us repeat, then pause.

We are equating film without speech with music, and connecting all that to the concept of energy-transfer, which is a significant component of the healing process of art.
Title: Energy-transfer in art : with post-enhancing surprise ending
Post by: Scrooby on March 18, 2023, 04:01:20 PM
Let us remind ourselves that the subject of energy-transfer is vital because it relates to the healing properties of art.

Q : In how many ways can a movie generate an energy-transfer?

If we are to start somewhere—and any thinking about anything has to start anywhere—we may as well face the most elementary question imaginable with respect to movement in a film.

1. The recording mechanism moves.
2. Item(s) in the frame move.
3. The story moves in a direction (its running time).
4. Sound moves.

A first observation is the contrast between the macro and the micro of the phenomenon of energy-transfer in film. The over-all energy-transfer of a start-to-finish film is composed of a compendium of smaller structural units—for example : from a movement within a single shot, to the interplay of large-scale contiguous sequences of the written narrative.

Doesn't this mean that the energy-transfer of a movie is composed of different streams operating simultaneously? Example : a small-scale geometrical Situation may play itself out over a series of shots for a running time of, say, five minutes in duration; but, at the same time, these five minutes of running time are incorporated into a larger narrative structure which has its own directions. In short : a shot of a film and the structure of a film are engaging in energy-transfer at all times, but the energy-transfer of the shot may not be synced up as the same one phenomenon as the energy-transfer of the larger structure of the film. All this simultanaeity and contradiction complicate matters of discussion. (And how many different types of energy-transfer are taking place at any point in a movie?) Rigorous prose structure is required to think on such a subject, if anyone cares to investigate this phenomenon in public. 

Surprise ending to edify the faithful Reader :

The concept of energy-transfer has still not even been defined with specificity!—though we're getting closer. In fact, nothing much has yet been said. Nothing much will be said.

What's required next, if your insane-but-presently-calm author chooses to proceed in a responsible, orderly manner, is to think on the concept of art as energy.

Then we double-back to the specific material in this post.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on March 18, 2023, 06:08:27 PM
I know when I saw Starry Night in person I felt that there was an interplay of motion within it.
Does a Rothko move?
My mind goes to immediately weeding out mechanisms, say, tinkering with one piece of a time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-hmuUAmFHQ
For a specific thesis, Derek Jarman concentrated all the energy in one color and only two of the above (1 and 4) yet, interestingly, as time passes so does the medium. Even without recording motion within, there was a flickering between all the stasis as the reel unspooled.
Title: Whammies
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 04:22:56 AM
Energy-transfer in Art : Before the Introduction

In the previous post, WorldForgot raised vital points about, and presented sharp examples of, the concept of "movement" in Art.

Here now is obviously the moment for your NHS-subdued author to convey that he is using the concept of "energy-transfer" to refer to a phenomenon occurring collaboratively between Artwork and Spectator. These work together at all times during the energy-transfer of art.

We don't "look into" the artwork (so to speak) and study its energy-transfer. No.

Imagine the Spectator is the Six Million Dollar Man linked up via a variety of wiring to the movie being watched.

Studying energy-transfer involves a dual study : the INTERPLAY of Artwork and Spectator.

The oneness of art and audience.

But we're not ready to define energy-transfer.

2.

WorldForgot : "Even without recording motion within, there was a flickering between all the stasis as the reel unspooled."

That is a fascinating technical phenomenon. That example, and the example of the Rothko, another brilliant addition by WorldForgot, should integrate themselves into this commentary later on, when the time comes to consider, in some degree of detail, all the various ways in which movement in film occurs (theoretically this effort is possible).

For now : energy-transfer is as much a process of the Spectator as of the Film.

Studying energy-transfer is both "art appreciation" and "self-analysis" at once.

All right. All this needs development. Nothing yet has been said.

(Nothing here suggests any speculation of any POV of WorldForgot's post.)

Let's pause to visit the Playboy Mansion of our imagination. 
Title: Dunkirk : Colossal Story Fundamental
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 05:31:56 AM
Colossal Story Fundamental : Courtesy of the Screenwriter

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/06/f9/2a/06f92a747a7b0cffe1ac7dc79b81d55a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/46/2c/f0/462cf078b15aa679d31d8f66703623b8.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7d/a4/a4/7da4a49328901fe6bc972fe9d38cec8d.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/17/b3/a4/17b3a4432e048d8e513343dafff4310a.jpg)

Caught in a choice between two negatives : the "go-to" situation for the ancient Greek playwrights.
Title: Nolan Hughes
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 05:58:16 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/34/20/72/342072aec2136c5503d2fa3a738957e9.jpg)
(37:53)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/21/36/02/2136021a4467dcea8504172f74abe286.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ca/51/e2/ca51e22b209d68982d6c87ccf78ee1b7.jpg)
Hell's Angels (1930), 1:52:31–1:53:38.

See it here :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hB5vzKWI3RM
Title: Scrooby's babblings
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 07:48:45 AM
WorldForgot prompted amusing thoughts in your feverish author's mind. (Are his pacifying meds beginning to recede from his system?) His imagination ejected a fusillade of imagery. Imagine a Terry Gilliam–type Situation in which the narrative cannot begin. Whenever a first step to introduce the story becomes visible, an interruption appears, and diverts the narrative from its path—indeed, stops the narrative from stepping onto the path in the first place : a surreal Bunuel–type Situation. All that recalls the "diversion narrative" : the cleaning up of the head in Pulp, the dispatching of witnesses in Kwai, retrieving Poole's body in 2001, etc. A story that never begins for the duration of the narrative space. There will be examples.

Eugene O'Neill, one of America's greatest artists of the twentieth century, dies, as people do. On his desk is left a play. The terminology in this situation is posthumous work. The play is a short work titled Hughie. The play involves a man entering a fleabag Manhattan hotel a hundred years ago and asking for his key from the night clerk he doesn't know. The story doesn't evolve any further than that. The entire play takes place in the duration between asking for the key and . . . but by the end, the idea of the key has been abandoned for the time being.

Or what about this

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/31/fb/22/31fb2282b4869c18e3bbe2e0f36fcd10.jpg)

What is the genre of this film? Such a question recalls the first ten shots of Citizen Kane, but this author needs to stop babbling. But what if we stayed in this room with this phone-man for the duration of the running time? What would happen? Would he fix the cable?

Scrooby's gone away, Mrs. Torrance.
Title: Christopher Coen
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 10:17:07 AM
Ambiguity of character

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d5/af/0c/d5af0cbbafbf5bebb5dd2f456f43e8af.jpg)

Is this soldier inept, or is there another problem? This ambiguous moment, lasting only seconds, at the beginning of Dunkirk (2017), encapsulates the entire approach to this character all the way to the end of the film : inscrutable. (2:14)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d4/94/5d/d4945db92e8b55be951f1dfe4feb08ea.jpg)

A character walks into the aftermath of some apparently heavy situation, as in an early reel of No Country for Old Men (2007). Note the Coenesque foot-tracks that conform to a measurement all the way back to a character, beyond which is no disruption in the sand. What happened in this sand? Reason will not be able to answer that question to final satisfaction. (4:29)
Title: Message from God on Dunkirk
Post by: Scrooby on March 19, 2023, 05:42:08 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8f/0f/fe/8f0ffe794b2128d17ccaf2e8da399c8d.jpg)
water at 1:13

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/70/07/5c/70075cb989fcc29a85217b1e57bdfac6.jpg)
fire (cigarettes) at 1:44

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e1/53/4a/e1534a067ca52477b028dfb7968bda9e.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/3b/0c/633b0ca0ec492ae5d7298ce887370d70.jpg)
fire and water join at 1:25:01–5.
Title: Muse on THIS
Post by: Scrooby on March 20, 2023, 07:12:03 AM
up into light

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d9/7b/36/d97b36c1acd8dc499463ff11d6233fd4.jpg)
(1:00:34) a major motif of Dunkirk.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on March 20, 2023, 07:17:00 AM
up into light

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ed/53/e3/ed53e3d7e02ae637de7ace4998626bf9.jpg)
Title: Inherent Vice
Post by: Scrooby on March 20, 2023, 12:10:40 PM
the EWS effect

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b3/cd/0b/b3cd0bafae408170dfc47724589f4c9f.jpg)
(1.11)
(https://i.pinimg.com/orig%5B/center%5Dinals/32/ad/22/32ad22b388af26e5ed1e1b5d9951b42c.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/ad/22/32ad22b388af26e5ed1e1b5d9951b42c.jpg)
(59.00)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e9/b6/d4/e9b6d4fdca815ee5d180d5e8f8b020ba.jpg)
(2:24:03)

recall the geometry of PTA's tension :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ea/63/95/ea63952072cb09b6d11423d4a33e8fe3.jpg)
PT, (21:38)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/62/da/4562da933381c08a62ee00a6f691bf9f.jpg)
(2:14:49)
Title: The Sure Thing
Post by: Scrooby on March 20, 2023, 12:47:46 PM
Two rainbow lens flares in one sequence of The Sure Thing (1985)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0e/fd/ef/0efdef3c4785cdb4db084d6c85b8a78c.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5f/3c/a0/5f3ca0331198176097a41db194c58a1b.jpg)
1:07:46-1:09:15   Cinematographer : Robert Elswit
Title: Rectilinear Power
Post by: Scrooby on March 20, 2023, 02:11:21 PM
Rectilinear Power

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/df/81/67/df8167518c7efe9fa68c2b9c1f518f91.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d0/64/b3/d064b327a97ebe4a72ec55290af93d80.jpg)

(1:40:08) In the continuum of ET : the Extra-Terrestrial (1982), this shot expressed a colossally rectilinear vibe, associated with the power of the cops, when I saw it as a kid. I thought it a remarkable effect : it urged me to wonder about how the camera conveyed such things. Though the houses block the backward view here, the feeling of the shot (boosted by a lateral camera movement) was similar to the rectilinear shock of Inherent Vice above. Cinematographer : Allen Daviau.
Title: "Someone might be watching"
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 12:25:08 AM
The Pastness of the Past

There are dozens of references to seeing in both EWS and Sophocles' Oedipus. PTA has caught the bug :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/23/1a/73/231a73a060dec84345a1d58123932b05.jpg)

(6:42) "Someone might be watching." A bittersweet moment, a vibe brought out pointedly by the collaboration of the music cue. Obviously, considering the motifs of the film, the remark evokes a strong sense of far-out paranoia. There's more to consider, though, as there always is. Inherent Vice is an historical recollection of a lost time; an aura of melancholy suffuses the entire narrative. An exemplar of the film's melancholy awareness of a lost recent past is this line : "Someone might be watching." It is as if the film is saying, "Hopefully one person on earth may be paying attention to this narrative about a forgotten time that will never return."
 
("Is not the pastness of the past the profounder, the completer, the more legendary, the more immediately before the present it falls?" Forward to Thomas Mann's Der Zauberberg.)
 
PTA has used this self-referential technique before :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/05/95/58/059558b32649b1e5787b3912f3098e09.jpg)

ALMA : "If you want to have a staring contest with me me you will lose." (22:02) In PT, this line at face value is amusing, as in, "You are so handsome I cannot keep my eyes off you." The line is also the film standing up to the audience, reminding the Spectators that the physical film will outlast them in time : an uncanny feeling, like a goose walking over one's grave.
 
This technique is as old as Sophocles : resonances in Oedipus abound to the concept of being caught in a story, being caught in a role. All this recalls a remark by Nabokov in Lolita : "No matter how many times we reopen King Lear, never shall we find the good king banging his tankard in high revelry, all woes forgotten . . ." (1.25)
 
We can present many examples of this self-referential technique from world cinema. Here is one :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/26/27/f2/2627f2bf2e5ada59a0a01f55e6e0cf75.jpg)

"I should know, sir. I've always been here."
Title: Change your hair . . .
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 02:17:34 AM
The Dark Muse

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/8d/d8/d68dd88faaed42d760f0eecea94a6134.jpg)
(9:21) Note the window. The nihilist ambience behind the Muse is an intentional contrast to her usual self, a personage virtually always presented as lovely and wondrous throughout Art History. For example :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1c/3f/c6/1c3fc6363ba8b2222741dc0f8a0b9e6e.jpg)
Parnassus, Andrea Mantegna (1497)

The nihilist ambience recalls a camera set-up from Psycho : Reason in the Void.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9a/c4/4f/9ac44ff330b10f721a4d01ee9d551da9.jpg)
(1:11:54)
Title: 1970s
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 02:47:20 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6f/35/35/6f3535b8b9778107cd98cf07ec16e8af.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cd/e1/1b/cde11bf19c37ce405292f84ecb4b11e1.jpg)
Title: Drop-kick
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 03:26:41 AM

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/68/d5/9b/68d59b24bb3297460aae0fc633d5e5e0.jpg)
This extra insult on Sportello recalls : "I will drop-kick those fxcking dogs if they come near me."
Title: "Howard Hughes was Italian?"
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 04:17:00 AM
"Howard Hughes was Italian?"

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6c/57/b0/6c57b036404f117d2468a9b762563ce7.jpg)

SUMMING UP AND SKIMMING : HUGHES' LAS VEGAS SCORECARD
 
Howard Hughes spent over $300,000,000 in cash in Nevada in the years 1967 to 1970. Hughes' gambling-related acquisitions in Nevada:[1]
 
Desert Inn Hotel and Casino[2]  (600 rooms)  April 1967  $13.2 million
The Sands Hotel and Casino[3]  (729 rooms)  July 1967  $14.6 million
The Frontier Hotel and Casino[4]  (571 rooms)  September 1967  $23 million
The Castaways Hotel and Casino[5]  (229 rooms)  October 1967  $3.3 million
The Silver Slipper Casino[6]  April 1968  $5.36 million.
The Landmark Hotel and Casino[7] (525 rooms)  January 1969  $17.5 million
Also
Harold's Club casino in Reno[8]  Late 1968  $10.5 million
 
Through 1968, Hughes endeavored to buy up most of the monuments on the Las Vegas Strip. As it was, he ended up owning almost 50 percent of the hotel-casinos in Las Vegas at the time. Moreover, he acquired a series of motels and restaurants.[9] Furthermore, Hughes eventually bought up virtually every vacant lot along a three-mile stretch of the Strip between the Tropicana and the Sahara—land which by 1972, according to Hank Greenspun, was worth $18,000 a foot.[10] "We bought practically every piece of raw land," Maheu recalled. "Where the Mirage is today. Where the Treasure Island is today."[11] He took steps to purchase the Stardust (for $30,509,035), the Bonanza, the Silver Nugget, and Harrah's hotels and casinos, but the U.S. Justice Department threw a spanner in the works when it denied him the privilege of acquiring any more casinos while the government wondered if Hughes was breaking antitrust laws by attempting to buy up the Las Vegas Strip wholesale.[12] Still, in 1970 Hughes attempted to buy the Dunes Hotel and Casino as well. No one man had ever owned one casino outright, let alone seven.
 
Such profligacy was a throwback—but on a much larger scale—to Hughes' early years in Hollywood. And yet in his own mind there was a method to his madness. By plunging his cash into Vegas he could keep it out of the hands of the IRS.[13] In the process he became a local hero, "revered as the Pied Piper who had brought Las Vegas back to economic life," Maheu recalled.[14]
 
Jack Anderson described Hughes as "the uncrowned king of Las Vegas".[15] Playboy magazine remarked, "Over 15 percent of Nevada's gambling revenue now flowed into the coffers of a man who did not gamble, smoke nor drink."[16]
 
Hughes set about rewriting the way casinos were run. Before Hughes arrived, casino employees often used to set patrons up with cocktail waitresses, chorus girls, call girls, in order to keep the patrons happy and on-site. Hughes forbade that practice at his properties. Maheu went on the record as saying, "We will not tolerate any of our employees hustling women around—and they know it."[17] Hughes provided his casino employees with free life and health insurance as well as a pension plan.[18]
 
On the other hand, Hughes' largesse didn't extend to the modestly bankrolled gamblers who comprised the great majority of players in his casinos. He nixed the practice of handing out free drinks and free meals. Now, unless you were a high roller, you had to pay your own way. And if you lost all your cash at Hughes' tables, too bad, don't expect a free ride to the airport.[19]
 
Hughes' casinos were on the cutting-edge of technology insofar as they utilized computer systems to streamline and monitor operations (in areas such as table-by-table gambling receipts, hotel reservations, and food and drink acquisition).[20] Also, the Hughes organization installed all manner of sophisticated electronic surveillance equipment which watched gamblers as well as dealers and other employees 24 hours a day.[21] Early-generation video cameras and 8mm movie cameras set up in the rafters above the gaming tables filmed through "Eye-in-the-Sky" two-way mirrors.
 
During his tenure as head of Hughes Nevada Operations, Robert Maheu informed the press, regarding the technological overhaul of Hughes' casinos: "We have set in the necessary controls, comparable to controls you have in a bank."[22]
 
One of the most visible changes to the casino operations at Hughes' properties following his acquision of them was the increase in the number of security men keeping an eye on the gaming tables and slot machines. A Sands Hotel employee told Omar V. Garrison, "The number of uniformed guards in the casino was just about doubled. . . . After a lot of players complained, they took most of them out of uniform. But they're still around, dressed in business suits."[23] The same went for the Desert Inn.[24]
 
Print advertisements promised, "The Fun Never Sets on the Hughes Resort Hotels!" Hughes' hotels and casinos operated 221 gaming tables and 2,275 of the state's 33,614 slot machines. Hughes' properties were bringing in close to $75 million of the $552 million annual gambling volume in Nevada.[25] Las Vegas welcomed 27 million tourists a year, and gambling revenue comprised 32 percent of Nevada's yearly revenue.[26] Hughes' hotels encompassed over 2,000 rooms in a period when Las Vegas hotels and motels were reporting an annual occupancy rate of ninety to ninety-five percent.[27] Hughes was routinely described as the "biggest gambling operator in Nevada".[28]
 
He was also the second-largest employer and landowner in the state, behind the federal government.[29] By 1970, Hughes's enterprises comprised one-sixth of Nevada's economy.[30]
 
*
 
Las Vegas was a hot house of mafiosi as well as a menagerie of small time crooks of all kinds. Though Hughes had ostensibly muscled in to the action, the mob was still entrenched, running the Stardust, the Riviera, and the Fremont, among others, including Hughes' own casinos. By the time Hughes left Vegas behind in November 1970, the mob was still there. In fact, the most violent days of Vegas were yet to come; the notorious mobster Tony Spilotro, cold-blooded genius of crime, arrived in town in February 1971.[31] The mob remained the primary force in Vegas through the 1970s—a blood-soaked decade for the gangsters in town—and into the easy-money Reagan years and beyond. America had been wrong to think that Las Vegas had cleaned itself up following the advent of Howard Hughes in town. Nothing changed in Las Vegas during Hughes' reign there except for the public's attitude toward the town.
 
*
 
There is another aspect to the theme of Hughes' "cleaning up" and transforming Las Vegas. If many citizens of Las Vegas had believed the newspaper headlines and harbored expectations that Howard Hughes would transform their city morally and economically, transforming it into the Supercity that his press releases promised, they were, in the end, quite simply deceived. When Hughes left Las Vegas, the city was essentially in the same condition as when he had arrived. He had built nothing of note—except perhaps Maheu's grand mansion and tennis courts on the grounds of the Desert Inn. It would be years yet before Las Vegas became identified as one of America's fastest-growing cities.
 
However, though Hughes had given up on the place like turning one's back to a TV set, his dream for Las Vegas eventually became a reality.
 
Nowadays Las Vegas is the family-friendly resort that Hughes had envisioned back in the 1960s. The Strip is decorated with Disneyland-type attractions: a massive pyramid; a replica of the Eiffel Tower; a hotel-casino in the shape of the Manhattan skyline; a rollercoaster; and so on. The casinos are run by corporations, and Hughes' innovations remain—no free drinks and completely computerized operating systems. In his ideas for Las Vegas as for so many other of his projects, once again Howard Hughes was ahead of his time.
 
*
 
From 1967 to 1970, tourist and gambling income in Las Vegas increased more than 25 percent a year, yet Hughes' own hotels and casinos went into the red in this same period. Incredible as it sounds, Hughes' casinos proceeded to lose money! While Hughes' casinos registered a 6.15 percent profit in 1968, earnings plummeted to only 1.63 percent in 1969. According to a memorandum written by Raymond Holliday and submitted to Hughes on June 13, 1970, in 1968-69 Hughes made a ridiculous $24,942 on investments of over $171 million in Nevada.[32] In 1970, Hughes' casinos lost $10.022 million; in 1971, another $6 million more was lost.[33] All the while his competitors on the Strip were earning consistent annual profits.[34]
 
Taking Hughes' Nevada properties as a whole, Hughes Nevada Operations registered a consistent loss year after year: $700,000 in 1967, $3.2 million in 1968, $8.4 million in 1969, no less than $7 million in 1970.[35]
 
*
 
HUGHES: THE MAFIA'S BEST FRIEND. With Hughes' purchase of the Landmark Hotel and Casino, Hughes proved himself to be the Mafia's best friend in Las Vegas. This business deal of Hughes' exemplifies the cosy relationship—if we needed any more examples!—between the Hughes Organization and the American Underworld in Nevada.
 
When Howard Hughes first proposed to buy the Landmark Hotel and Casino in September 1968, the Justice Department threatened his lawyers with an anti-trust suit, just as they had months earlier when Hughes was negotiating for the Stardust. On January 17, 1969, in the month that Richard Nixon began his first term as President, the Department of Justice backed off and the Landmark buy went through.
 
The Landmark was a thirty-one story "space-needle" tower located on Paradise Road running parallel to the Las Vegas Strip. Construction had begun in 1961 but the project went bankrupt before it opened, and remained idle for a total of eight years. The unfinished tower—Nevada's tallest building—remained a blot on the Las Vegas skyline.
 
Construction on the ill-starred Landmark had resumed in the fall of 1966 after its owners received a loan of $5.5 million from the Teamsters Union Pension Fund—mob money, courtesy of E. Parry Thomas of the Bank of Las Vegas. When the Landmark was finished, another bombshell hampered operations—the owners were denied a gaming license.
 
The owners of the Landmark were losing $30,000 a month on the fiasco. Though Robert Maheu was against the buy, Hughes insisted that Maheu go ahead and buy the Landmark. Its close to three-dozen creditors were to be paid, according to Hughes' instructions, "100 percent on the dollar."[36]
 
Nevada Senator Howard W. Cannon went to bat for Hughes in Washington, D.C., when the Justice Department had still been mulling over the Landmark sale. "This is a clear opportunity to assist the economy of Nevada and the employment opportunities of its citizens," Senator Cannon said.[37]
 
Hughes acquired the Landmark through his Hotel Properties, Inc.[38] He assumed debts of over $14 million—$8.9 million in Teamster loans and around $5.6 million in other debts—and, on top of that, he paid off the mob-affiliated owners, who had gone into involuntary bankrupcy, $2,444,000. On top of the more than $17 million that Hughes dropped on the Landmark, yet another $3.2 million had to be spent on the hotel before it could open.
 
The Landmark opened on July 1, 1969 with great hoopla. Hughes was permitted to operate 26 gambling games and 401 slot machines at the Landmark.[39] In the first year of Hughes ownership, the Landmark lost $5.944 million, and never turned a profit in Hughes' lifetime.[40]
 
*
 
THE HUGHES SKIM SCAM. What happened with Howard Hughes in Las Vegas? Hughes bought into seven casinos in Nevada—he bought into one of the most profitable industries in America and yet the Hughes Nevada Organization lost money year after year. What happened to the money? It was as if a million vacuum cleaners emerged from out of the shadows and each reduced by so much Hughes' gargantuan pile of greenbacks. Was Hughes kept apprised of the drain on his financial resources? Was he given accurate reports? How could a man run an empire if for most of the week he was reduced to a narcotized zombie?[41]
 
Why did Hughes plunge a fortune into Las Vegas in the first place? Hughes wanted somewhere to put his TWA shares windfall without the IRS taking a big bite of his dollars.[42] Hughes knew that if he reinvested the upwards of $470 million within two years, he would lawfully elude capital-gains taxes.[43] That's the cover story and official story. The casino business in Nevada seemed a perfect venture for the adventurous Hughes, considering that a well-organized skim of cash off the daily take could reap hundreds of millions of tax-free dollars. But what did Howard Hughes know of the concept of casino skim? Did Hughes believe that the Hughes Organization would assume control of the skim? Or eradicate it altogether? How much information was Howard Hughes given about how a casino is run? Hughes would buy casinos, then, theoretically, their value—their location value and land value—would rise as the years went by if Las Vegas remained as popular as ever.
 
Hughes would buy his casinos and to him the process was as if depositing his hundreds of millions of dollars in a bank. Hughes stored his money in the casino entities. One day he could "cash out", sell his entire casino holdings—no doubt for a profit—and apply his mind and fortune to other ventures. The Las Vegas buying spree was his idea—perhaps.
 
Hughes was secreted away in his Desert Inn hotel room where his communication with the outside world was reduced to a telephone and incoming-and-outgoing memoranda. Might his aides, or whoever, have issued memos in Hughes' name? Or kept significant memos or reports from Hughes? Might the details of various incoming memos have been changed before they reached Hughes' eyes? We will never know what Hughes knew and did not know, cooped up in his master control center atop the Desert Inn in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip. Regardless of how much he knew or did not know, Howard Hughes might have thought himself "on top of the world", however much his incarceration resembled banishment to a desert cave.
 
When Howard Hughes gave the go-ahead for Robert Maheu to buy casinos from the mob syndicate, Johnny Rosselli understood immediately the ramifications of such a deal. The mafia's operations in Las Vegas could mask their clandestine operations behind the Hughes organization. Ironic that Howard Hughes would become a "front"—considering that next to no-one saw the man in the flesh!
 
Rosselli knew that Hughes was looking to buy gambling properties, and he knew that the casino owners were seeking a new front organization that would shield them from the skimming investigations. . . . The key was that, with Hughes on the gambling license and Maheu at the helm, the skim from the Desert Inn casino could continue under a veneer of respectability.[44]
           
Hughes bought casino after casino, then let the casinos run themselves. That is to say, he let the gangsters remain in charge. For example, at the time that the Hughes organization bought the Sands in July 1967, a Hughes representative announced, "We plan no change in the operation of the Sands Hotel."[45] As it happened, the representative kept his word.
 
"There were very few changes in personnel," recalled Sands casino manager Harry Goodhart, himself a forty-year veteran in the business.[46]
 
With regards to the Desert Inn, the FBI's Las Vegas office described a similar situation in a report dated March 27, 1968:
 
There are rumors circulating around the Desert Inn Hotel-Casino, expressing doubt that MORRIS DALITZ and his group [Morris Kleinman, Sam Tucker, Ruby Kolod, and others] are actually out of the Desert Inn. The basis of this, according to [blacked out] is that DALITZ is seen frequently at the Desert Inn and seems to have free access to anyplace he wants to go. DALITZ was observed in the Desert Inn on June 29, 1967, when he walked into the "cage" and picked up a sealed brown envelope.[47]
 
Major General Edward H. Nigro, deputy chief executive of Hughes Nevada Operations, as well as vice president and general manager of the Sands and Castaways, remarked to Ovid Demaris early in 1969,
 
I guess you understand that there isn't one of us naïve enough to think he could walk downstairs and operate a casino. . . . I'd say we retained ninety-nine point nine percent of all personnel that was here.[48]
 
During 1967, the Hughes Nevada Organization ensured the smooth-running of its casinos by negotiating with Sidney Korshak, the mob's foremost lawyer in Nevada, who at the time was employed as a "labor consultant" by the Nevada Resort Association.[49] These negotiations ensured that HNO wouldn't be surprised by strike action by its hotel and restaurant employees.
 
With the gangsters in charge, the well-organized skim that had served the mob so well over the decades remained in force. Money that should have been going to Hughes, who was no full-blooded mafioso, went instead to the various components of the syndicate with interests in the Vegas operation.
 
 
The Wall Street Journal reported that millions were being skimmed. The Syndicate desperately needed a front. Moe Dalitz, owner of the Desert Inn, was under investigation. So were Syndicate men at the Frontier and Sands. Hughes aborted these investigations by taking title to these three casinos. But he kept Dalitz, among others, for advice. "The many contacts I made with Mr. Dalitz were made at the specific suggestion of Mr. Hughes, wherein Mr. Hughes wanted the benefit of their thinking," Hughes aide Robert Maheu later explained.[50]
 
Hughes' entrance in Vegas was perfect for the clandestine elements in the city. The outside world would think American hero Howard Hughes, in buying up Vegas, was somehow now in charge of the place. The "Hughes mystique" would recast Las Vegas in the media from a seedy haunt of cold-blooded gangsters to a proper and honorable business organization. The truth was that the gangsters never had to budge an inch from their positions. Whether he thought about it or not, Hughes was the perfect front man for the Mafia in Las Vegas from 1967-1970.
 
Roping Hughes into fronting for the mob at the casinos in Las Vegas was Johnny Rosselli's greatest caper, a crowning achievement that drew on all his past experience in Hollywood, in espionage, and as a criminal strategist.[51]
 
An IRS audit on Hughes' Nevada casinos carried out in secret in 1971 concluded that Howard Hughes might have lost more than $50 million as a result of a well-organized mob skim.[52]
 
________________________________________
[1] The Desert Inn, The Sands, The Frontier, and the Silver Slipper were situated on the Las Vegas Strip. The Landmark was just off the strip on Convention Center Drive. The Castaways was located on Fremont Street in downtown Vegas. ¶ The complex corporate arrangement of the properties of Hughes Nevada Operations is discussed in Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 176. ¶ All six of Hughes' Las Vegas casinos were bought from mob outfits which were components of the Syndicate headed by Meyer Lansky. ¶ According to Lansky associate Joseph "Doc" Stacher: "We worked out a deal that gave each [mob] group an interlocking interest in each other's hotels, and our lawyers set it up so that nobody could really tell who owned what out there." Eisenberg, Meyer Lansky, p. 267. ¶ "Up to the close of 1969, Mr. Hughes had invested about $150 million in Las Vegas properties." See "Life of Howard Hughes Was Marked by a Series of Bizarre and Dramatic Events", p. 70; also Turner, "Maheu Jury Weighs New Data on Complex Hughes Business Deals", p. 11. ¶ As of 1970, Hughes' Nevada properties as a whole was worth around $200 million, according to Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 209. ¶ About $85.5 million for the seven hotels and five casinos, says Turner, Wallace, "'Billionaire' Hughes's Wealth Put at Only $168,834,615", New York Times, March 16, 1977, p. 17. ¶ "As chief of Hughes-Nevada Operations, Robert Maheu controlled, under Hughes' direction, a gaming empire that employed more than 8,000 people, with a total payroll of some $50,000,000 a year and a gross handle of some $500,000,000." Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257. See also "The Case of the Invisible Billionaire", p. 75. ¶ "By mid-1970, Hughes' seven casinos accounted for 17 percent of Nevada gambling revenue." Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23. ¶ "His hotels . . . on the Strip, with a total of about two thousand rooms, represented "20 percent of all resort hotel accommodations on the Strip." [HH:HLM], p. 301-2. ¶ The prices of casinos vary slightly according to source: see Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 48 (Desert Inn); 56 (Sands); 75; 79 (Frontier); 115 (Castaways); 174 (Silver Slipper); 229 (Landmark); Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 65 (Desert Inn); 76 (Sands); 79 (Frontier); 81 (Castaways and Silver Slipper); 87 (Landmark). Also Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 473 (all listed). Also Hack, Hughes, p. 288 (Desert Inn); 292 (Sands); 293 (Frontier, Castaways); 297 (Silver Slipper);  319 (Landmark). Also [HH:US], p. 339 (all listed). Also [HH:HLM], p. 289 (Desert Inn); 298 (Sands); 302 (Frontier and Castaways – prices not listed); 316 (Silver Slipper); 367 (Landmark – price not listed); 484 (Harold's Club – price not listed); Denton, Money and the Power, p. 273 (Desert Inn); 277 (Sands, Frontier, Landmark). Cole, "Hughes's Properties Are Reported Worth $2 Billion", p. 30, gives figures for each for a total of $78.35 million. Also Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23, gives a figure for total price of all seven casinos: $107.4 million. Marrett, Howard Hughes: Aviator, p. 196, says Hughes paid about $96.8 million for his seven casinos. ¶ "One set of figures shows that he put down $83.2 million in cash to acquire the gambling houses. . . . But in one document, Mr. Hughes' managers told him that he had put $185 million into Nevada." Turner, "Casino Sale Seen as Step to Liquidation of Hughes Gaming Interests", p. 19. ¶ April 1969: "bought about $200 million in gambling and mining property" "Hughes Adds Sixth Casino", Washington Post, April 26, 1969, p. D9. ¶ "estimated $250 million in Nevada holdings." Egan, "Hughes as a Wheeler-Dealer", p. F1. ¶ For "$300 million Nevada empire", see "Shootout at the Hughes Corral", Time, December 21, 1970; "The Case of the Invisible Billionaire", p. 75; O'Hanlon, Thomas, "The High Rollers Shoot for Power in Las Vegas", p. 36; Coffee, "The curious Washington days of deposed Vegas Prince Bob Maheu", p. 8; 12; "Hughes Aides Vie For Vegas Control", Washington Post, December 6, 1970, p. 5.
[2] "The Desert Inn, the flossy place on the Las Vegas Strip, has floor shows, a fancy golf course, swimming pools, a hotel, and an atmosphere of opulence designed to attract the high rollers, the gamblers who are willing to risk losses in a night of $30,000 or $50,000 or even more." Turner, Gamblers' Money, p. 104. ¶ "Included in the package were the 600-room hotel, the Desert Inn Country Club, casino, bars, restaurants, and theater-dining room." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 48. ¶ Katsilometes, John, "Desert Inn Celebrates Its Golden Anniversary", Las Vegas Sun, April 20, 2000, available online, says that the D.I. had only 300 rooms until 1978. ¶ "What Mr. Hughes bought was the operating rights, not the real estate. And he agreed that at the end of his lease, which would be about the year 2027 if all options were picked up, to return it in the same condition he found it." Turner, Wallace, "Summa Corp.: Rebuilding the House of Howard Hughes", New York Times, June 17, 1979, p. F3.
[3] "The Sands . . . The price was $14.6 million, the cash arranged through the Texas Bank of Commerce and Hughes Tool . . ." Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 227. ¶ "$14.6 million . . . plus the assumption of $9 million in hotel debt." Hack, Hughes, p. 292.
[4] The Frontier had "ten crap games, twenty blackjack tables, two roulette wheels, the baccarat layout, and a one-hundred-seat keno lounge." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 77.
[5] "The featured attraction at the Castaways (outside the casinos, of course) is an intricately carved teakwood replia of a Jain temple in India. . . . Hughes encountered little difficulty in having his wholly owned Hughes Tool Company licensed to operate the casino's nine tables of games, one keno, and 152 slot machines. . . . The Hughesmen reopened with a bawdy musical called the Tom Jones Show. It featured a number of lusty ballads and a chorus line of footlight ladies dressed in bosom-flashing Elizabethan costumes." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 115; 116. ¶ For list of Hughes Tool Company executives listed on the Castaways license along with Hughes, see Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 116.
[6] "Hughes turned its operation over to his staff of former Revenue men, security guards, and ex-FBI agents." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 174.
[7] "The gleaming, 525-room pleasure mart included two fully equipped casinos—one on the first floor and another on the second level of the three-story steel-and-glass cupola atop the tower. Adjoining the sky-high casino is a lounge bar and coffee shop. The topmost floor of the structure is occupied by a plush night club which provides a panoramic view of the city. The dance floor is large enough to accommodate 250 patrons. Two lavishly appointed gourmet restaurants and a bar occupy the first level of the triple-tiered dome. . . . The casinos would open with 26 table games and 401 slot machines." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 233. ¶ Hughes paid $17.5 million, $17.8 million, or $17.9 million for the Landmark, according to O'Hanlon, "The High Rollers Shoot for Power in Las Vegas", p. 36; Turner, Wallace, "Summa Corp. Seeks To Reduce Its Losses On Nevada Holdings", New York Times, October 20, 1977, p. 13; Turner, "Casino Sale Seen as Step to Liquidation of Hughes Gaming Interests", p. 19.
[8] Harold's Club was located on North Virginia Street, where the action was in Reno. The founder of Harold's Club was Harold S. Smith, Sr., who wrote a history of his casino in 1961 called I Want to Quit Winners. In the book Smith identified Harold's Club as the largest casino in the world, with over 1100 persons working around the clock. Harold's Club included the Roaring Camp Room, which advertised itself as containing the largest collection of old wild west arcana (guns, wagons, music boxes) in the United States. ¶ "Harold's Club, the largest gaming room under one roof in the world." Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257. ¶ Founded in the 1930s, Harold's Club was one of the most successful and popular of all of the casinos in Nevada from 1940s-1960s. ¶ "The Harold's Club pattern pushes out a type of advertising and promotion that attracts the smaller gambler, the visitor with $50 or $100 to spend, or even less." Turner, Gamblers' Money, p. 104.
[9] The Black Forest Inn, the Three Fountains, the Travelodge, and the Grace Hayes Restaurant. See Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 303.
[10] See Denton, Money and the Power, p. 277; 321. ¶ Hughes' Vegas land included "one-fourth of the vacant land on both sides of Las Vegas's seven-mile hotel row known as the Strip." Cole, "Hughes's Properties Are Reported Worth $2 Billion", p. 30. ¶ Hughes purchased "approximately $100,000,000 in raw land around McCarran Airport and along the Strip. . . . This includes Husite, a 27,000-acre (forty-two-square-mile) tract some eight miles west of Las Vegas, which has been in the portfolio since 1954." Demaris, "You and I", p. 77; see also Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23. ¶ In 1970 the New York Times estimated the worth of Husite at $25 million. See Cole, "Hughes's Properties Are Reported Worth $2 Billion", p. 30;  also Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 143; Dwiggins, Howard Hughes, p. 73; and Turner, "'Billionaire' Hughes's Wealth Put at Only $168,834,615", p. 17. ¶ "The [Las Vegas] Chamber of Commerce noted in its 1968 report that "the unseen hand of one of the world's greatest industrialists has steadied the city's economic outlook . . ." Demaris, "You and I", p. 73.
[11] See Robert Maheu interview in "Howard Hughes: The Real Aviator", DVD documentary.
[12] Hughes was faced with the threat of anti-trust violations even though George Franklin, District Attorney for Clark County, went on record as saying, "I am firmly convinced that any antitrust action would have to involve interstate operations. . . . There could be no antitrust action against Hughes on an operation in a single state." Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 198; see also 206-7. ¶ Though Hughes' plans to acquire the Stardust were terminated on August 15, 1968, by March 1969 Hughes will own land surrounding the Stardust Raceway, located west of the Strip. Moreover, the Hughes Tool Company will be bidding for the Stardust Golf Course. See FBI file on Morris Dalitz, reports dated 10-31-68 and 3-4-69 (Las Vegas field office file # 92-461).
[13] On the subject of Las Vegas and tax, see Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 202; Phelan, Scandals, Scamps, and Scoundrels, p. 191; Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 28.
[14] Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 241.
[15] See Anderson, "Las Vegas Is Changing—on the Surface", p. C11.
[16] Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257.
[17] Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 63. ¶ However, Hughes' ban of the girlie trade may have been nothing more than a smoke screen. According to a reporter for the Wall Street Journal in late 1967, a call girl operation at the Sands was still up and running. See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 62-3.
[18] See "Visionary Backgrounds: Howard Hughes" on the Welcome to Las Vegas home website.
[19] See Turner, "Fight For Hughes Holdings Emerges in His Absence", p. 77.
[20] As of 1970, "A team of electronic engineers and technicians had been working for almost a year on a computer system that would be used for reservations, registration of guests, and credit checks." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 72.
[21] ". . . the elaborate system of hidden cameras, flow charts, and daily computer printouts, which was put into operation when Hughes took control. The computers instantly spot a table where there appears to be some irregularity in receipts. Dealers and casino employees are under constant surveillance by concealed electronic devices." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 59. Regarding the Desert Inn, "Hughes proxies dropped hints that space-age anti-cheating equipment had been installed in the casino . . . It was generally understood that the concealed paraphernalia included advanced types of movie and video camera which could film all the action in the gambling pit, as well as monitoring equipment which might possibly be used to eavesdrop elsewhere in the hotel." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 80. ¶ See also "Visionary Backgrounds: Howard Hughes" on the Welcome to Las Vegas home website.
[22] Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 59.
[23] Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 64.
[24] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 79-80.
[25] See O'Hanlon, "The High Rollers Shoot for Power in Las Vegas", p. 36; Cole, "Hughes's Properties Are Reported Worth $2 Billion", p. 30; Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 200-1; Dwiggins, Howard Hughes, p. 29. ¶ "These casinos . . . made Hughes the biggest gambler in Nevada." Turner, "Secrecy Shrouds Hughes Empire's Fate", p. 71. ¶ "William Fisk Harrah, 62, Nevada's second-ranking casino mogul, after Howard Hughes" "Milestones", Time, July 1, 1974. ¶ 1970: "The hotels and casinos alone employ 8,000 people and do $500 million business annually." Aarons, Leroy F., "Fired Hughes Aide Accused Of 'Plundering' $10,000", Washington Post, December 10, 1970, p. A3.
[26] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 204-5.
[27] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 234.
[28] See, for example, Turner, "Casino Sale Seen as Step to Liquidation of Hughes Gaming Interests", p. 19; "Hughes Aides Vie For Vegas Control", p. 5.
[29] See "The Hughes Legacy: Scramble For The Billions", Time, April 19, 1976; "Summa Comes Back from Debacle", Time, October 6, 1980.
[30] See Tinnin, Everybody v. Hughes, p. 385.
[31] A character based on Spilotro is played by Joe Pesci in Martin Scorsese's Casino.
[32] See Turner, "Hughes Documents Disclose Big Losses in Last Decade", p. 26.
[33] See Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23; also Hargeaves, Superpower, p. 140.
[34] See Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257.
[35] According to the financial report by Raymond Holliday sent to Hughes on August 24, 1970. See [HH:HLM], p. 435; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 253. ¶ "State authorities and even some of Maheu's most vocal supporters cite simply "management problems." Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23.
[36] See Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 233.
[37] Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 231. See also Anderson, "Howard Hughes and His Hired Hands", p. D23.
[38] "Listed as directors of the Hughes corporation were: Robert Maheu, Edward H. Nigro, Richard Gray, and L. T. "Mickey" Rhylick. Rhylick was also named general manager of the Landmark operation." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 233. ¶ "Hughes personally went over every detail of the hotel plans and dictated a number of changes, including improverments in the décor and furnishings. When he discovered that beds only thirty-six inches wide had been ordered for the smaller rooms, he viewed this as cutting corners and angrily gave instructions that they were to be replaced with beds of standard forty-two-inch width." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 233.
[39] See "Hughes Permitted To Open 6th Casino", Washington Post, April 25, 1969, p. A6.
[40] See [HH:HLM], p. 367; 449; Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, chapter 13, "Howard Hughes And His Landmark Tower", p. 227-40; also Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, chapter 11, "Howard Throws a Party", p. 317-42; also 492; Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23; Dwiggins, Howard Hughes, p. 73; Denton, Money and the Power, p. 226; Turner, "Summa Corp. Seeks To Reduce Its Losses On Nevada Holdings", p. 13; Sederberg, "Smart Money Is Betting Hughes' Las Vegas Venture Will Pay Off", p. D2; "Hughes Adds Sixth Casino", p. D9; Greer, "New Breed of Casino Owners", p. D10.
[41] Edward Morgan, one of Hughes' attorneys in the Las Vegas era, described Hughes' state-of-mind as "a sine curve. There was fleeting brillance and enthusiasm, but then they waned, they always waned into prolonged periods of stupor and depression." Quoted in Hougan, Spooks, p. 265.
[42] See, for example, Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 202.
[43] See Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 22.
[44] Rappleye, Rosselli, p. 280; 281. ¶ Casino skimming: creaming off the daily take of cash in the casino count room before any account figures of inflow are entered into any ledger or record. ¶ "According to several sources, the Syndicate formed a partnership with the Hughes organization. The Syndicate supplied casino expertise; Hughes lent the necessary respectability." Kohn, "Strange Bedfellows", p. 78. ¶ "We roped Hughes into buying the Desert Inn," Rosselli reportedly told hit-man-turned-informer Jimmy "the Weasel" Fratianno. . . ."He's just what we need, especially with Maheu running the show." Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 120; also quoted in Denton, Money and the Power, p. 276.
[45] Quoted in Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 56.
[46] Rappleye, Rosselli, p. 284. ¶ For an account of the night of the transfer of ownership of the Desert Inn, see Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 54. For a short account of Maheu's casino operations, see Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 277-8.
[47] See FBI file on Morris Dalitz, report dated 3-27-68 (Las Vegas field office file 92-461).
[48] Demaris, "You and I", p. 80. See also Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 67-8. ¶ Nigro referred to "former owners Mr. Carl Cohen and Mr. Jack Entratter" who had been kept on as "senior vice presidents. . . . Carl Cohen, by virtue of our wonderful rapport, runs the whole show in the casino [Sands]." Demaris, "You and I", p. 80. ¶ "Hughes . . . did little or nothing to purge mob-connected figures from the casinos he purchased. He retained many of them as casino pit-bosses and gambling overseers because of their invaluable expertise." Phelan, Scandals, Scamps and Scoundrels, p. 191. ¶ "The questionable Carl Cohen and Jack Entratter, high on Attorney General Bobby Kennedy's special target list for investigation and prosecution . . ." Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 220. ¶ For Entratter and Cohen and their mob ties, see Levy, Ratpack Confidential, p. 96-103; see also Denton, Money and the Power, p. 276-7.
[49] See Hersh, Seymour M., "Korshak's Power Rooted In Ties to Labor Leaders", New York Times, June 28, 1976, p. 1; also Scott, Crime and Cover-Up, p. 30; Denton, Money and the Power, p. 84; and Scott, Deep Politics, p. 155. ¶ "Called by the FBI "possibly the highly paid lawyer in the world," and known in las Vegas as the "Chicago Juice" who usually stayed in the Presidential Suite of the Riviera, Korshak was the personal fount of most of the Teamster money into Las Vegas in the sixties and seventies." Denton, Money and the Power, p. 316.
[50] Kohn, "Strange Bedfellows", p. 78. ¶ "Mr. Dalitz has been very helpful over the years in making suggestions. He was not compensated in any way. But I might add that many contacts I made with Mr. Dalitz were made at the specific suggestion of Mr. Hughes, wherein Mr. Hughes wanted the benefit of his thinking." Quoted in Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 25.
[51] Rappleye, Rosselli, p. 286.
[52] See Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 120; 473-4; also Hargeaves, Superpower, p. 139. ¶ In District Court in December 1970, "Mr. Maheu said that, when he came to Las Vegas, he refused to handle fiscal accounts. He also said that he had nothing to do with collecting markers or dispersing money from the casinos." See Turner, "Maheu, in Court", p. 48. ¶ In 1969, "state officials looking into the accounts of the Hughes-owned Sands Hotel turned up $186,000 in "markers," some of which were lOUs signed with fictitious names. Hughes' managers wanted to write off the $186,000 as bad debts, a request that the state officials bluntly refused." "Shootout at the Hughes Corral", Time, December 21, 1970; see also Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23. ¶ In May 1972, "IRS investigators assembled in Las Vegas to investigate Hughes' employees for tax evasion and manipulation of funds." Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 280; also 288. ¶ "On May 11, 1972, the Los Angeles Times reported that the Internal Revenue Service had opened a probe of the Hughes gambling empire with 20 full-time agents, because of allegations that huge sums of money which should have gone to Hughes had found their way to foreign countries; underworld figures may have siphoned off casino profits; entertainers may have had to kick-back to underworld figures from 10 to 15 per cent of their paychecks; Hughes mining properties may have been purchased at inflated prices; and casinos were reporting marginal profits despite massive investments." From Marvin Miller, Compiler, The Breaking of a President 1974, excerpted online. ¶ "The IRS was uncovering what the Wall Street Journal called the largest skimming operation the IRS had ever seen. In its July 31, 1972, report, the Journal said, "The Billionaire was roundly fleeced . . . the noose is beginning to tighten." It quoted a "seasoned" Federal agent as saying the situation involved "some of the most incredible swindles I've ever seen" and described the "massive investigative force that is coming Las Vegas, several other U.S. cities and such remote points as the Netherlands and the Dominican Republic." DuBois, "Puppet and the Puppetmaster", p. 190. ¶ In April 1972,  "Six men were convicted of plotting to conceal their illegal ownership of the Frontier Hotel, Las Vegas, and of being mob fronts and guilty of racketeering and spin-offs at the time the hotel was sold to Hughes." Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 288. ¶ "After he left Las Vegas, an investigation was begun by some twenty Internal Revenue officials, two Justice Department organized-crime strike forces, and a private intelligence service retained by the Hughes organization. Their investigations will take years to complete, but they have already revealed that Hughes was cheated on a scale that beggars the imagination. . . . According to the Wall Street Journal, Hughes' casino revenues had been heavily skimmed by his own employees." Hargreaves, Superpower, p. 140. ¶ "In 1971 . . . Meyer Lansky was indicted by a federal grand jury in Nevada for conspiring to defraud the U.S. Government of income tax on $36,000,000 in profits from crime syndicate operations in Las Vegas." Eisenberg, Meyer Lansky, p. 301; see also Hargeaves, Superpower, p. 577. ¶ Lansky fled the country then was arrested at Miami Airport on November 7, 1972, and went on trial for criminal contempt for dodging his subpoena early in 1973. His court battles dragged on for years. Lansky died in a hospital bed in Miami Beach in 1983.

Title: "It's just . . . . crazy" (1:01:38)
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 05:06:07 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f6/d8/c4/f6d8c435d0c66e34b28db8e3b4f6ea19.jpg)
(1:01:35) Two contemporary characters touching on the truth of the times—in whispers, the only sensible way possible.
Title: Japonica Fenway
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 05:37:52 AM
The holier-than-thou contradiction

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/34/67/cc34676aec3077e5b697bad5cee73acb.jpg)
(1:28:37) "Look at the greedy little hippy, snorting away are ya?"
Title: Howard Hughes : Fascinating Recluse
Post by: Scrooby on March 21, 2023, 01:11:00 PM
Howard Hughes : Fascinating Recluse
 
THE LOCATION OF LAS VEGAS. Howard Hughes certainly chose a characteristically eccentric location where he would maintain himself as a recluse. Instead of choosing an out of the way location like a private estate on the outskirts of conurbation, he installed himself on the top floor of the Desert Inn Hotel and Casino smack dab in the midst of the congested Upper Las Vegas Strip. In a way you could call his penthouse a "Captain's Bridge". If Hughes, pale as a ghost, had poked his head out of his window on the ninth floor of the Desert Inn, he would have seen the Frontier and the Silver Slipper directly across the street, with the Castaways and the Dunes to their left, and the Stardust and Circus Circus to their right; he would have also seen, on his side of the street, the Sands, the Flamingo, and the Tropicana to his left, and the Riviera and the Sahara to his right. Just here was the highest concentration of "monumental" buildings in Las Vegas, all within hailing distance of one another. These hotels and casinos were ensconced within a thickly-packed layout of small motels and gas stations and shopping centers and restaurants and banks. The Las Vegas Strip was a congested clot of commercial enterprise open twenty-four hours a day. Hughes chose to hide himself away on the busiest street in Nevada!
 
The Strip itself was a six-lane highway (Route 91) with a wide median dividing two halves of three lanes each. 3.9 miles in length, running south-northeast, it connected McCarran Airport in the south with Fremont Street at the center of town; a 45-degree bend halfway along divided the Strip into its two straight upper and lower halves. The speed limit was 30 miles an hour. Most of the traffic in and out of Las Vegas drove along Route 91. Secluded in his Desert Inn domicile Hughes was at the heart of the action in town. He was an urbanist even in his reclusiveness, as if permanently in two minds regarding his odd choice of lifestyle. Anybody at all could mosey by the Desert Inn and point up to the ninth floor window behind which Hughes was hidden twenty-four hours a day.
 
Hughes was squarely in the midst of a fairyland of audacious visual stimuli. Hotel and Casino signs and "reader panels" in all manner of extravagant and whimsical shapes and illuminations encrusted every inch of the Strip, along with a flurry of billboards (for tanning lotion; for sunburn unguents; for alcoholic products). The landscape was literally full of words. One didn't see the Vegas strip, one read it. Everywhere you looked something enticing was on offer.
 
Nowhere else in the world could a traveller see such a collection of weird and strange architecture in one place. Las Vegas of the 1960s was a research and development site for a new aesthetic of roadside architecture. The city was at the vanguard of the new world of 'autopia'. New relationships were being explored between human traveller and architectural landscape. The staccato interaction of commercial signs, the schizophrenic diversity of freestanding geometric oddities illuminated by millions of lightbulbs proclaimed Las Vegas as the 'holy city' or 'first city' of advertising art. The Las Vegas Strip was the leading edge of kitsch.
 
The casino zone was a twenty-four-hour district in which night and day bled together to create one ongoing "Vegas Time". Visitors to the windowless casinos engulfed by the jangling slot machines and green baize gaming tables lost track of the hour if not the day. Venturi put it well:
 
Day is negated inside the casinos, and night is negated on the strip. . . . [Inside the gambling room] Time is limitless, because the light of noon and midnight is exactly the same.[1]
 
Since Hughes was himself a man who had never followed a normal 9-to-5 time schedule, this aspect of Las Vegas would have felt just right.
 
Howard Hughes had never put on airs or stood on ceremony. He was a "down-home", plain-speaking character. According to Wallace Turner in Gambler's Money, Las Vegas would appeal to such a character: "The dignity of Monte Carlo is absolutely missing from the mass gambling joints of Nevada."[2] Dennis Eisenberg put it plainly in Meyer Lansky: "Las Vegas is gambling for the common man."[3]
 
The city of Las Vegas was designed as a temporary stopping place for travellers, tourists, and nomads. Howard Hughes chose to dwell in this vivid spot which was meant to be an ephemeral experience for most. Hughes felt "at home" in this transitional environment.
 
THE DESERT INN HOTEL AND CASINO. Four years in construction, and financed with a loan from the Teamster's Union Central States Pension fund, the Desert Inn first opened on April 24, 1950. The hotel and casino was run by an association of gangsters from Cleveland, Ohio, headed by Morris "Moe" Dalitz. In 1951, an 18-hole golf course was constructed on its 272 acres of property alongside the Strip. In the 1950s and early 1960s the place was often referred to as "Wilbur Clark's Desert Inn". Clark was a small-time gambler who built a reputation as a wheeler-dealer, and as such served as an innocuous front man for the mobsters who actually owned and ran the Desert Inn.[4] The Desert Inn was one of the trademark sites on the Las Vegas Strip for fifty years, an impressive fixture of the "good old days" of the heyday of Vegas, a vibrant playground for the wealthy, and one of the leading casinos in town.[5] Along with Caesar's Palace, the Desert Inn was the casino for high rollers.[6]
 
The exterior of the building was somewhat bland and looks institutional—might a quick glance have mistaken the boxy place for a hospital?
 
OFF-LIMITS. There was no way for unwanted outsiders to reach the ninth floor from the ordinary hotel elevator. Inside the elevator, Hughes' operatives had replaced the button for Hughes' floor with a lock-and-key contrivance.[7] If one wanted to rise above the eighth floor, one needed not only a key but the knowledge of how to turn the key a specific way to get the elevator to rise to Hughes' floor. If a would-be intruder attempted a different method of access, he would be out of luck. There was no way to get to the ninth floor from the hotel's stairway. Not only was the ninth-floor stairway door locked, but the doorknob on the stairway side had been removed.[8] An intruder couldn't even get to Hughes' bedroom by parachuting in, because armed guards patrolled the rooftop.[9]
 
On the ninth floor, the elevator and the fire exits were protected by a twenty-four hour rota of armed guards. A desk for the guards was set up in the hotel hallway, replete with two phones, one connected to the lobby switchboard, the other to the hotel's security office.[10] Behind the desk was a locked partition blocking access to Hughes' end of the hallway. If an intrepid interloper was somehow able to jimmy the elevator and arrive at the ninth floor, he would find himself in a small area with no place to go but back down. These security measures remained in force in whichever hotel Hughes moved to for the rest of his life. While these measures were taken for Hughes' safety, they also kept Hughes many removes from his freedom.
 
BEDROOM. The ninth floor consisted of seven penthouse suites.[11] Each suite consisted of a bedroom, living room, dressing room, and bathroom.[12] Hughes stayed in a penthouse suite at the far-right corner of the building. Located on the east side, Hughes' suite overlooked the swimming pool and golf course.[13] His suite—Penthouse One—cost him $250 a day.[14] While Hughes was paying for all of the suites on the ninth floor, Richard Hack says that Hughes' suite was the only one in use on the entire floor.[15] The front door to Penthouse One was always locked. Phelan and Hack refer to the door's "peephole grill", which makes one think of War Rooms or Mafia enclaves.[16] The Reader can almost hear the muffled words, "Who goes there?"
 
Robert Maheu had overseen the transformation from penthouse suite to impenetrable redoubt. Journalist Edwin Fadiman, Jr. reported on some details of Maheu's hotel room makeover in an article for Playboy in December 1971: "The bulletproof steel doors, painted to look like wood, had to be made and installed. Custom-built sanitary facilities had to be incorporated. Special hospital equipment, working on unusual voltages, had to be hooked up and made operative."[17] Every so often an anti-bugging team would "sweep" Hughes' suite with electronic devices in order to make sure that no outsiders were listening in.[18] James Phelan reported that "the eighth-floor bedroom immediately below Hughes' room was kept vacant and locked . . . to forestall any "enemies" from eavesdropping."[19] Remarking on the security measures, Maheu told a newsman in 1969, "Suffice it to say, [they] are uncompared anywhere in the world—which is as it ought to be."[20]

The majority of the details of Hughes' personal life at the D.I. would only become a part of the public record after some of his aides gave depositions and interviews in late 1976 and 1977.

Howard Hughes' bedroom was 15 feet by 17 feet. The windows were sealed shut. The air was filtered by an air-purifier, while an air conditioning unit maintained a constant temperature of 70°F.[21] Hughes refused a vacuum cleaner to enter his domain, fearing that the thick layer of dust, when roused by the vacuum, would contaminate his nostrils. Heavy dark green draperies covered every window.[22]
 
Most of the time Hughes was stretched out on his hospital bed in front of an array of television sets. ("He watched television with a passion," said Maheu.[23]) A foundation of paper towels would have been placed over his bedsheets to protect his body from germs that little bit more. "He hated the inconvenience of changing the linen," one of his aides reported, "so he would make his sheets last as long as he could."[24] Now and then he moved to his black Naugagyde reclining chair, in which he sometimes fell asleep.[25] Hughes covered his barcalounger with paper towels as "insulation" as well. When specific paper towels had reached the end of their duty they were shredded along with other documents and burned in the incinerator behind the hotel. He was also prone to falling asleep while sitting on the toilet.[26]
 
Hughes' bedroom was the heart of his empire, yet it resembled grandma's attic. Demonstrating Hughes' compulsion to hoard things, both Barlett and Steele and Michael Drosnin listed some of the clutter in Hughes' bedroom: piles of newspapers, TV Guides, aviation magazines, folded and rolled maps, hillocks of balled Kleenex, towering piles of corporate papers. "Stack after stack of neatly piled documents," Drosnin described, "thousands of yellow legal-pad pages and white typewritten memos."[27] Hughes dwelt within a mini-city of his own making, the stacks of papers his skyscrapers reminding him of the broad power of his world empire. "Hughes was forever losing important documents in the mountains of papers," Bartlett and Steele noted.
 
There were two telephones on an ordinary hotel nightstand by the bed. Like all of the phones in the suite, Hughes' phones were protected by anti-wire-tapping equipment. Sound-amplifying equipment assisted Hughes in hearing his phones, the television, and his projected movies.[28] He read the Las Vegas newspapers.[29]
 
"Everything Hughes needed was in easy reach of his bed," the two journalists went on to say, "including the metal box where he kept his tranquilizers and narcotics and the syringe he used to inject himself with the drugs."[30] Hughes' body and mind were desperately in thrall to codeine and valium. Drosnin, specifying that Hughes used an "unsterilized hypodermic needle", expanded upon the drug theme:
 
Mixing a fix, he would dissolve several white tablets in his pure bottled Poland Spring water, then jab the spike into his wasted body. Then he would relax, and in the first warm flush of relief and satisfaction now and then softly sing a little jingle to himself, a little scat bebop routine he remembered from the old days. "Hey-bop-a-re-bop. Hey-bop-a-re-bop.[31]
 
Aide Gordon Margulis recalled, "He had one song. It was that nonsense song from the early 1950s, 'Hey! Ba-ba-re-bop.' He'd sing it to himself, just that nonsense line over and over."[32]
 
Around the outset of 1967, Dr. Norman Crane, associated with Hughes since the 1950s, left his Beverly Hills office to go to work as one of Hughes' private physicians full-time in Las Vegas, for which he was paid $80,000 a year and given a luxurious suite at Hughes' Desert Inn. This new arrangement ensured that Hughes would never have a problem in acquiring his colossal amounts of codeine and Valium.[33]
 
Hughes the man had diminished in physical stature to a skeletal wraith. Constant drug-taking coupled with poor eating habits reduced him to a vitamin-starved,  nutritionally-deprived state. Reduced down to 110-120 pounds, Hughes looked like an inmate of a death camp. He never wore clothing.[34] Bedsores ate into his skin all over his back, but he was loath to change his habits. "There was no way you could get him to sleep on his side or stomach," one of his aides recalled.[35] During his four years in Vegas he refused to cut his hair, beard, fingernails, or toenails. (Healthy hair grows at an average rate of six inches to one foot a year, a beard six inches a year, fingernails 0.8 inches a year, and toenails about a quarter-inch a year. It takes two years or so for all of these to grow out to their full length.) His thin gray hair grew past his shoulders, his thin beard eventually reached his chest, shaggy eyebrows punctuated his lined face. "His fingernails were two inches long," one of Hughes' aides told Time magazine, "and his toenails grew and grew until they resembled yellow corkscrews."[36] He refused to brush his teeth; his mouth was becoming a periodontal catastrophe.[37] During his stay in Las Vegas his swollen gums would become progressively more and more inflamed and begin to bleed; his teeth were loosening and his jaw bone was slowly eroding. Intravenous drug use was evident up and down his body. Needle marks stippled the length of his skeletal arms, his thighs, and all around his groin.[38]
 
Hughes sometimes spent hours obsessively stacking and restacking his skyscrapers of papers. One of the aides told James Phelan, "He would take a thick sheaf of papers, whack them down lengthwise to align them, turn them, whack the topside, then the third side, then the bottom. Then he'd do it all over again, over and over."[39]
 
Other obsessive behavior was just as strange. He would sit in the bathroom, spending hours rubbing alcohol onto his body.[40] He urinated into jars which, for reasons known only to Hughes, he demanded were to be kept in storage in a closet of his suite.[41]
 
In Las Vegas his sleeping habits were as erratic as ever. Hughes might stay up for close to four days at a stretch before falling asleep.[42]
 
(In December 1970 Newsweek reported a Hughes-in-Vegas rumor—describing it as "unverified"—which remained one of the most persistent anecdotes of his later life: "he shuffles around with his feet in empty Kleenex boxes to ward off germs."[43] This detail will be featured prominently in The Simpsons episode from its fifth season in which the megalomaniacal Mr. Burns opens a casino, moves onto the top floor, and begins turning into Howard Hughes, down to the Kleenex boxes as slippers.[44])
 
Hughes would lay eyes on only twelve different people in total—his aides; physicians; and, for five seconds, one of his lawyers—during his four years in Las Vegas.[45]
 
"He never looked out the window," Robert Maheu explained. "Darkness frightened him. He just couldn't bear to see night fall. It bothered him enormously. I think—in fact, I know—that's part of the reason why he lived the way he did. He didn't like to be reminded that it sometimes gets dark."[46]
 
With the windows sealed shut, curtains closed, air filtered, and a lamp on, Hughes dwelt in an eternal twilight time, where there were no ambient changes to mark the progression of the hours or the seasons.
 
FOOD. Hughes' eating habits while at the D.I. were as strange and unhealthy as they had ever been. Though Hughes had a personal chef on the payroll in the hotel's kitchen, he was never interested in elaborate meals.[47] "He sometimes went for weeks on just candy, cookies, and milk," reported Phelan.[48]
 
Hughes went through manias whereby if he acquired a taste for a specific food, he would keep eating it day in day out until he lost his appetite for it, then go on to the next food fixation. Joseph "Doc" Stacher, an associate of Meyer Lansky, recalled:
 
Moe [Dalitz] was particularly proud of the Monte Carlo Room at his hotel, where he had a French chef and food every gourmet appreciated. The chef nearly walked out several times because Howard Hughes wanted Campbell's canned chicken soup served to him twice a day. It was bad enough that the chef had to keep sending up those bowls of heated canned soup, but what really infuriated him was when Hughes sent down notes to the kitchen complaining that the soup hadn't been prepared exactly the way he wanted it. It was to be heated to a precise temperature and one or two bits of things added. Moe had to plead with his chef to take no notice—the man upstairs was crazy.[49]
 
Berton Cohen, president of the Desert Inn in the late 1960s, had his own story to tell, the "Ice-Cream Saga":
 
I want to say it was banana nut, but it doesn't matter. The point is he was a creature of habit. I got word we were running out of banana nut and called Baskin-Robbins in L.A. to have some shipped in. They'd discontinued the line and would only make something like 100 gallons. Then word came in the next day that he changed his mind and wanted something else and we had to switch.
 
Cohen said in the year 2000, "Somewhere at the D.I. they still might have old gallons of unopened banana nut."[50] Regarding Hughes' taste for ice cream at this time, Charles Higham reported, "Childlike as ever, he had a special spoon, which must never be replaced."[51]
 
Other foods Hughes developed a short-lived mania for during the D.I. years included Swanson's frozen turkey dinners; Arby's roast beef sandwiches; and apple strudel.[52] The New York Times reported on December 10, 1970, "He eats beef ragout and fresh vegetables for breakfast."[53] Sometimes Hughes reverted to his traditional fare of grilled steak, medium rare, and peas.[54] Look magazine in June 1971 added, "Hughes prefers milk and springwater, imported from Colorado or Arkansas at four dollars for six half-gallon bottles."[55]
 
SUPPORT STAFF. Hughes was tended to by five inner aides and a series of outer aides.[56] While sometimes referred to in the media as "nursemaids" or "bodyguards", they preferred to be called "staff executives". They worked in rotating eight-hour shifts. Their "command center" or "communications center" was the hotel's living room alongside Hughes' bedroom.[57] There were telephones, a typewriter, filing cabinet, office furniture. Drosnin described the aides as "lackeys with no special skill, not even shorthand."[58] Hughes was so anxious about human contact that he often communicated with his Mormon aides silently and from afar, through memos.[59] "He would require that you wrote a note to him rather than talk because he was hard of hearing," one Hughes aide recalled. "So we would write notes to him and he would put them on his stash—papers and things that he read."[60] Anyhow, according to Drosnin, "Both his body odor and breath were so rank that they didn't want to get near him."[61] As for the projection of his 16mm films, Hughes used a system of hand signals (twisting his wrist; moving his hand and fingers) to communicate with the projectionist when he wanted the image focused.[62] Omar Garrison described how the aides went "about their tasks as silently and unobtrusively as ghosts, sometimes swathed like aides in surgery to prevent contamination of personal articles Hughes must handle."[63] If Garrison's reference sounds outlandish, one of Hughes' aides later reported in a taped interview, "On occasion he would have us wear white gloves when we did certain things for him . . . [such as] when we went shopping for him. To his way of thinking it was a normal thing to do."[64] At this point in our story the mass media did not know the identities of Hughes' aides, who were sometimes referred to in the press as the "penthouse Mafia" and in Las Vegas as "the Big Five".[65] In July 1971, James Phelan reported, "Only the insiders knew all five of these men, who shuttled mysteriously around Las Vegas for four years."[66]
 
"No one was permitted to speak in Hughes' presence," Richard Hack reported. His aides' purposes were "merely to listen and follow instructions. He was neither interested in nor wanted to hear their opinions, took no interest in their personal lives, and formed no bond of any kind with any of the men on his staff."[67]
 
"Hughes was a very somber man," one of his aides confirmed. "He didn't joke too much with you. He was pretty stern."[68]
 
Two closed-circuit television screens permitted Hughes to see what was going on in the communications center alongside his own bedroom.[69] The living room/communication center divided Hughes away from the front door of the suite. In one way the aides protected Hughes, while another way of looking at it was that they kept him in.
 
"Hughes had achieved a degree of human inviolability that eluded even absolute monarchs: he dictated the composition of his own peer group," noted three journalists from the London Sunday Times. "Even absolute monarchs sometimes had to meet people outside their courts, such as ambassadors and occasional peasant leaders."[70]
 
The aides were Hughes' buffer with the outside world. They controlled all communications coming in and going out. (Newsweek magazine described the "round-the-clock monopoly they held over the boss's communications with the outside world."[71]) They were in Hughes' employ but got their ultimate orders from Romaine Street. "Even though Romaine Street was now far away, Gay's boys on the scene kept him well informed on Howard's condition," Robert Maheu recalled. "As it turned out, Gay was far better informed than I was."[72] Barlett and Steele noted, "The aides quietly communicated with Gay or his deputy Kay Glenn, passing along information about Hughes' physical or mental state, his financial deals, his current whims."[73]
 
For security reasons, the internal Romaine Street-Hughes mail was never sent directly to the Desert Inn, but to a secret post office box at the nearby McCarran Airport not far down Route 91. One of Hughes' aides collected the mail daily. In this manner sensitive communications could be kept from Robert Maheu's knowledge, as from Hughes'.[74]
 
Back in Southern California, Hughes' operations at 7000 Romaine Street had reduced in scope to a skeleton crew. As Hughes' harem of starlets had been disbanded years earlier, the driver's pool was retired from service. His Bungalows at the Beverly Hills Hotel remained empty and silent. Romaine, once his thriving master control center, now seemed as barren as an abandoned warehouse, a dusty monument to his Hollywood prime. For Hughes, Las Vegas was where the action was, and his main man was Maheu. In Hughes' mind, it was as if Bill Gay and Nadine Henley had ceased for exist. Yet in the rigidly compartmentalized world of the Hughes empire, Gay and Henley had quietly retained their power and influence in direct contravention to Hughes' attitudes toward them. From his base at 17000 Ventura Boulevard, Gay still sent orders which percolated down though the pipelines of the empire, which was organized in such a hierarchical and bureaucratic manner that, according to James Phelan, "Those who received or executed the orders down the line usually did not know who had originated them."[75] This would become an increasing problem for Robert Maheu and the stability of his own position in the empire.
 
Though Hughes had a silver bell with which he could summon his aides to his side, Hughes preferred to generate a sound more dramatic than an elegant tinkling sound—he'd flick his long fingernails against one of the paper bags (from Smart and Final) which he sometimes used as trash bags.[76] The sound of his fingernails flicking a paper bag to summon his aides was an antagonistic sound, a crass, ornery sound. It wouldn't have bothered Hughes much, who, with his bad ears, probably barely heard it. Might there have been something of spite in the gesture, as if he were summoning a dog, or a disrespectful slave, or imbecilic lackey? It was a jeering sound, quick and precise as a firecracker burst. Was it an act displaying a regal unconcern for his underlings?
 
WHAT ABOUT JEAN PETERS? When Hughes departed from Southern California in the summer of 1966, he left his wife behind at the Bel Air mansion. It wasn't long before Hollywood types as well as the media began speculating about the condition of their marriage. For the November 1968 issue of Ladies' Home Journal, some of Jean Peters' friends offered a series of cover stories in an attempt to limit the weirdness of the Hughes phenomenon. Reported one:
 
They take secret trips together. Howard calls for a helicopter to land on the top of the Desert Inn. They fly to his own airstrip, and in a matter of minutes they're off for Peru or some such place on one of his jets.[77]
 
And then another:
 
Jean spends most of the week at her home in Bel-Air. Then on Thursday or Friday she flies to Las Vegas and spends the weekends with Howard at his headquarters at the Desert Inn.
 
Yet an executive at the Desert Inn told the same magazine, "I've never seen the lady."[78]
 
The truth? Husband and wife never set eyes on either other in Las Vegas, though Hughes telephoned her a little over 100 times during his stay.[79]
 
BLEAK HOUSE. For all of Las Vegas' visual excitement, no matter where you stood out in the arid Vegas air, you felt the bleak open spaces of the Mojave Desert all around. Out there was a harsh land of parched earth barely populated by human, with rubble strewn from ancient geological events; sagebrush; bleached bones. The silence of the valley floor stretching back to distant mountains contrasted with the absurd excitement of the casinos, clustering as a small oasis of visual cacophony in a vast and forbidding landscape. Robert Venturi noted, "Beyond the town, the only transition between the Strip and the Mojave Desert is a zone of rusting beer cans."[80]
 
Las Vegas was a schizophrenic place. Here, risk was supposed to be fun. Losing your hard-earned cash was supposed to be no big deal. Here dream and nightmare bled together as one tense experience: Las Vegas was a brightly-lit blip of lunacy in a desert. There was something febrile, frenetic, risky, and hallucinogenic about the place which could drive the ordinary American visitor around the bend. A psychiatrist at the County Hospital told Tom Wolfe, "Three-fourths of the 640 patients who clustered into the ward last year were casualties of the Strip or the Strip milieu of Las Vegas."[81]
 
For all of its visual excitement, Las Vegas is a bleak and gloomy place. Its disposition is a cynical exuberance. Las Vegas seduces its visitors to live the dream in order to sucker them out of their reality. Year in year out, perhaps more people leave Las Vegas shellshocked than any other place in America. Las Vegas is a dream world; an air-conditioned nightmare.[82]



________________________________________
[1] Venturi, Learning from Las Vegas, p. 31; 44. ¶ "Las Vegas pays little attention to calendar or clock. The sunshine seems to be permanent, regardless of season; breakfast is served twenty-four hours a day, because gambling goes on twenty-four hours a day." Hill, Gladwin, "Atomic Boom Town In the Desert", New York Times, February 11, 1951, p. 158. ¶ "It is a city where there is no time—where living is not controlled by the circadian rhythms of night and day." Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 25.
[2] Turner, Gamblers' Money, p. 42.
[3] Eisenberg, Meyer Lansky, p. 262.
[4] See Turner, Gamblers' Money, p. 42-44.
[5] See Levy, Ratpack Confidential, p. 95; Turner, Gamblers' Money, p. 9.
[6] See Pileggi, Casino, p. 90.
[7] See Gerber, Bashful Billionaire, p. 310; Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 67; Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 43-4.
[8] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 43; Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 68.
[9] See "Mr Howard Hughes is in London", The (London) Times, December 28, 1972, p. 2.
[10] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 67; Hack, Hughes, p. 286.
[11] See Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 63.
[12] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44.
[13] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44; Demaris, "You and I", p. 81; Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 23-4.
[14] See Cole, "Hughes's Properties Are Reported Worth $2 Billion", p. 30; also "Life of Howard Hughes Was Marked by a Series of Bizarre and Dramatic Events", p. 70.
[15] See Hack, Hughes, p. 286.
[16] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 68; Hack, Hughes, p. 286.
[17] Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257.
[18] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44.
[19] Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 68.
[20] See Demaris, "You and I", p. 81.
[21] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44; Demaris, "You and I", p. 81; Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257; Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 23-4; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 225. ¶ Fadiman, Jr. suggested a link between Hughes' 1946 XF-11 crash and the reclusiveness of his later years: "A man who survives such terrible wounds is particularly susceptible to respiratory infection; conceivably, he might not survive pneumonia. This may account for the sterile, air-conditioned, controlled environment in which Hughes lives today." Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 250. ¶ Also in 1971: "Las Vegas appealed to Hughes. He was known to be a bacteriophobe, and the desert air was germ free." Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 22. ¶ "a 1946 air crash injured his lungs, rendering him susceptible to bronchial infection." "The Hughes Legacy: Scramble For The Billions", Time, April 19, 1976. See also "Billionaire Howard Hughes Dies at 70", p. 8; "The Secret World Of Howard Hughes", p. 31.
[22] See Gerber, Bashful Billionaire, p. 311; Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 43; Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 107.
[23] See Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 16.
[24] See [HH:HLM], p. 368; see also 426.
[25] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 67.
[26] "Occasionally, "on the way to the bathroom, or on the way back," a stark-naked Hughes would pause by the door to the adjoining room where the aides maintained their office and dictate instructions to be forwarded to one of his lieutenants." [HH:HLM], p. 368. 
[27] Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 53.
[28] See Turner, "A Glimpse into Hughes's Hidden Life", p. 49; "The Case of the Invisible Billionaire", p. 76; Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257.
[29] See Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23.
[30] See [HH:HLM], p. 368.
[31] Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 45.
[32] Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 143; see also "The Secret Life of Howard Hughes", Time, December 13, 1976; Hack, Hughes, p. 373.
[33] See Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 211; Real, Asylum, p. 271.
[34] "The wardrobe of the one of America's richest citizens was equally simple, consisting of two sport shirts, two pairs of slacks, and one pair of shoes. Hughes never put on any of these. There was one bathrobe, two pairs of pajamas, and one pair of sandals." [HH:HLM], p. 367.
[35] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 59.
[36] See "The Secret Life of Howard Hughes", Time, December 13, 1976; also Anderson, "Howard Hughes Revisited", p. L47; Anderson, "Were There 2 Hugheses?", p. B11; Anderson, "Intimates Differ on Hughes' Status", p. B15.
[37] See [HH:HLM], p. 426; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 263.
[38] See Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 45; "The Secret Life of Howard Hughes", Time, December 13, 1976.
[39] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 69. See also Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 53.
[40] See Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 225.
[41] See [HH:HLM], p. 426; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 263.
[42] See Anderson, "Intimates Differ on Hughes' Status", p. B15; Sederberg, "Smart Money Is Betting Hughes' Las Vegas Venture Will Pay Off", p. D2.
[43] "The Case of the Invisible Billionaire", p. 76. See also Brussel, "Is Howard Hughes Dead and Buried Off a Greek Island?".
[44] "Springfield (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Legalized Gambling)", original airdate: December 16, 1993.
[45] See [HH:HLM], p. 289; 324.
[46] See Hougan, Spooks, p. 264; 311.
[47] See Demaris, "You and I", p. 81.
[48] See Hidden Years, p. 17.
[49] Quoted in Eisenberg, Meyer Lansky, p. 268-9; see also Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 221.
[50] Katsilometes, John, "Desert Inn Celebrates its Golden Anniversary", Las Vegas Sun, April 20, 2000—from their website archives. See also [HH:US], p. 340-1; Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 86-8; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 221-2.
[51] Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 221.
[52] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 84-5; Hack, Hughes, p. 312-3; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 221; 226.
[53] Turner, "A Glimpse into Hughes's Hidden Life", p. 49.
[54] See Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 221.
[55] Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23.
[56] Inner aides were Roy Crawford, Howard Eckersley, George Francom, John Holmes, and Levar Myler. Other aides included Gordon Margulis and Clarence "Chuck" Waldron.
[57] See Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23.
[58] Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 53.
[59] See, for example, "The Hughes Legacy: Scramble For The Billions", Time, April 19, 1976.
[60] See George Francom interview in "Howard Hughes: The Real Aviator", DVD documentary.
[61] Drosnin, Citizen Hughes, p. 62.
[62] See Frehner, Hughes and Me, p. 224.
[63] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44.
[64] See George Francom interview in "Howard Hughes: The Real Aviator", DVD documentary.
[65] See, for example, Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 23; "Shootout at the Hughes Corral", Time, December 21, 1970; "The Case of the Invisible Billionaire", p. 76.
[66] Turner, "All the Hughes", p. 73.
[67] See Hack, Hughes, p. 286.
[68] See George Francom interview in "Howard Hughes: The Real Aviator", DVD documentary.
[69] See Garrison, Howard Hughes in Las Vegas, p. 44; Fadiman, "Can The Real Howard Hughes . . .", p. 257; Davenport, Hughes Papers, p. 23-4.
[70] Fax, Hoax, p. 47.
[71] "The Secret World Of Howard Hughes", p. 31.
[72] Maheu, Next to Hughes, p. 218.
[73] [HH:HLM], p. 325-6.
[74] Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 83.
[75] See Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 9; Phelan, Scandals, Scamps and Scoundrels, p. 189; [HH:HLM], p. 296; Hack, Hughes, p. 294.
[76] See Hack, Hughes, p. 286; Drosin, Citizen Hughes, p. 469; Frehner, Hughes and Me, p. 84; Higham, Howard Hughes, p. 200; 225, Phelan, Hidden Years, p. 68.
[77] See Lyons, "America's Richest Wife", p. 165.
[78] See Lyons, "America's Richest Wife", p. 161; Scott, "The Closely Guarded Life of Mrs. Howard Hughes", p. 115.
[79] See [HH:US], p. 342; Finstad, Heir, p. 23. ¶ A contradictory account, which reports that Jean Peters was Hughes' only regular visitor during his Las Vegas years, is in Schemmer, "What Happened to Howard Hughes", p. 22; Helenthal, The Keokuk Connection, p. 18; Lyon, "America's Richest Wife", p. 161. ¶ One rumor about Hughes' Vegas years is that he sometimes spent several days at a time at the ranch in Red Rock Canyon with Jean Peters. See Sederberg, "Smart Money Is Betting Hughes' Las Vegas Venture Will Pay Off", p. D2; "Life of Howard Hughes Was Marked by a Series of Bizarre and Dramatic Events", p. 70.
[80] Venturi, Learning from Las Vegas, p. 42.
[81] Wolfe, "Las Vegas (What?)", p. 33.
[82] Nod to Henry Miller.

Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: HACKANUT on March 24, 2023, 02:26:15 PM

https://ibb.co/TRvh28N

The Alethia it is not... but ported in the same marina. Implying "like-minded" ships. Freddie/ID stumbling drunk in to the world of creation even if just to sleep.
Title: HACKANUT'S three-hour tour
Post by: Scrooby on March 24, 2023, 08:53:31 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/07/15/11/071511867c01438d840177f7f1019ce7.jpg)

Whoa, hold on here . . . does the crosstree on the ἀλήθεια remind us of a cross ?!

Art . . . and religion. What HACKANUT said : "like-minded" ships—an awesome observation.

("crosstree" : a word I learned from the last line of chapter 3 of Joyce's Ulysses.)

Footnote : ARTSHIP is kinda like, from one POV, the use of "Alan Smithee", you think? (This doesn't invalidate all the other resonances. This is just a fun footnote.)
Title: Inherent Acid
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 08:27:18 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/69/33/ae/6933ae7c2fa6681a3e82101c0b40abd8.jpg)

(1:10) The first shot of JP. Consider the color of the shot. Contributing to the humor of JP's first scene is that JP is blasted on acid and the audience has no idea. (How else do we explain his heavy environmental eyeball activity at the title credit at 7:30?) Film director PTA is conveying this interior secret to the audience right at the start with the psychedelic colors : a lovely trick, a lovely grace note to start the movie. PTA is showing the Spectator a secret which the Spectator cannot yet understand : this is the process of Art.

In a first-rate film, the general condition of the frame always (so to speak) conveys an interiority of the subject character.

Example :


(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a3/86/45/a38645e4fdc155c7f0629af544a5214f.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/87/d7/98/87d79807d17dfb8718fd3d6734ea0324.jpg)

Two characters enter the same room. Why does Kubrick shoot Dr. Bill that way, and Carl the other way?
Title: More Inherent Acid
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 11:46:55 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/69/33/ae/6933ae7c2fa6681a3e82101c0b40abd8.jpg)

Note the sadness of the man. Of the man alone. Of the man looking out a window. A window we cannot see.
 
This is a contemplative character, perhaps remembering (how to put it?) "the past outside the window", and displaying a melancholy passivity.
 
Is there also perhaps a sense of being caught? The exit is there—the window—but inaccessible in this shot. Notice the bright 2001: A Space Odyssey–type detailed filament on the couch. Is it not a barrier between JP and the window?
 
A man alone, remembering the irrecoverable past.
 
We the audience are looking through the window of the film, remembering the irrecoverable past.
 
The character's inner radiance of mind-thoughts is conveyed by the golden light illuminating his head.
 
Blue is often a color of sadness ("Feeling blue"). Here, the color collaborates with the actor's melancholy expression.
 
Is this a shot of desolation?
 
The year 1970 is evoked via the retro cushions. What can we learn about this character from his environment? The eclecticism of the furnishings, the clash of styles of cushions and sofa . . . ?   
 
The color red. The international color of danger. People see such a dramatic red every single day : a stop sign. Why a stop sign? 1970 is dead and gone.
 
Red is also the color of life-blood pumping. Life is passing the passive person by.
 
Note the contrast of the cinematographer's vibrant lights with the character's facial expression. Melancholy passivity mixed with vibrant colors conveys the condition of a full-blooded human being, full of potential and feeling and heart, trapped in a Situation and abandoned by society to rot until death. Heart and mind, caged. Sound familiar?
 
Note the black ambience with white highlights on the right side of the screen. Did we not just hear the Muse's voice? The next time we see her, notice the window behind her.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/8d/d8/d68dd88faaed42d760f0eecea94a6134.jpg)

Coincidence?
 
The window becomes visible when JP rises, revealing that the outdoors is the same color as JP's shirt. Coincidence? Note the icy-white illumination around the window panes : cold. The window on the left even looks as if it has a bit of snowflakes piled up. Note the contrast of coldness and heat (the lamp). 

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/43/b8/4e43b875fd9ba5ad418cee9dd0878673.jpg)

A man from the past, thinking about the past. A hot-blooded man in a cold world. Sounds like PTA. Sounds like the Spectator.
 
Sounds like first-rate filmmaking.
Title: bedtime
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 02:56:22 PM
Four films that begin with the male lead in bed

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/07/d2/52/07d2521c1d612a7e6a17702b3e571806.jpg)

Le Samouraï (1967)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3b/35/fd/3b35fdaa9eb7d8c370d26ff29d76233b.jpg)

(1970)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a3/fe/6c/a3fe6c49d5bd48d66693f3ce15d50a19.jpg)

Being There (1979)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b8/43/d8/b843d8becd78b3a4874883a12ec716bc.jpg)

Mishima (1985)
Title: . . . and one woman
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 03:10:46 PM
. . . and one woman

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/92/e2/5c/92e25cff84270c055b268d4d519e5aea.jpg)

Mr. and Mrs. Smith (1941)
Title: One of Scroob's Favorite Discoveries of 2023
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 04:44:29 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/07/d2/52/07d2521c1d612a7e6a17702b3e571806.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2b/bf/7d/2bbf7d13f3e899165467ad4945e17091.jpg)

Barton Fink (1991)
Title: film history we’d like to examine further
Post by: Scrooby on March 25, 2023, 05:15:08 PM
Dorothy Mackaill, 1930s actress from Kingston upon Hull (UK)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/68/55/df/6855df161d35f7ec467a5d167e838e49.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/58/ea/19/58ea190945e75ff527b1630d21bc9f9d.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b3/31/fa/b331fac8c514a41a8bc6f0e116a0f590.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a4/51/b4/a451b4bb0cb4a85f6a4a31f43a73d628.jpg)

It's Saturday night, just a little good-natured fun.
Title: Where is Home?
Post by: Scrooby on March 26, 2023, 04:51:58 PM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBuZf4Rz3hs

Not mine.
Title: Magnolia : Great Directors in 6 minutes
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 06:08:35 AM
1.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/92/bb/a2/92bba2b584332fc4e861338762391094.jpg)
Citizen Kane, 18:53

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0b/f6/f8/0bf6f82c5e25c39f02b5adfb39835269.jpg)
Taxi Driver, 10:49

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/88/d8/e9/88d8e9a18eac3c57c319695e23f730d4.jpg)

2.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fa/4b/b6/fa4bb62c9c24c8fef77cd2504b70f3c3.jpg)

1982 : the most significant year in 1980s Hollywood (e.g., Spielberg's ET becomes highest-grossing film of all time and remains so for rest of decade).

The repetition of "82" recalls the repetition of "42" in The Shining

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9e/82/03/9e8203101670e5fd354cd6fb50a953bc.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b6/fa/94/b6fa9413e63c09535ceb2655c8ef7495.jpg)

Summer of 42 (1971)

3.

"In the city of Los Angeles on March 23rd, 1958"—the year of Hitchcock's Vertigo, not just any old movie.

Recall the Foreign Correspondent (1940) connection (5:23) :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/60/9d/05/609d05fd448e415a5a81db4b21b73966.jpg)

4.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a1/79/86/a1798616750ed435984c48344d29824f.jpg)

After Hours (1985), 1:14:35

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1f/48/9f/1f489f0bbfd88323ffb4ce3ed6cb14a3.jpg)

5.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/69/ff/7e/69ff7e73495fd2ead2554e09116218e7.jpg)

A spitting image of Charles Whitman.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b4/fc/ad/b4fcade101d20706acd5facfeb5357f4.jpg)

"Charles Whitman killed 12 people from a 28-story observation tower at the University of Texas. From distances of up to 400 yards." (Full Metal Jacket)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/8d/54/638d5404c88bbeb9458e0b7653fd50a6.jpg)

Loading the weapon in a lonely room recalls one of Hollywood's very first police procedurals, The Sniper (1952), directed by the once-blacklisted Edward Dmytryk.

6.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/50/1f/88/501f8894d6e76af1f440bf4181bc0014.jpg)

Elementary, yes, but this has to be mentioned : Always (1989), 34:00

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7e/2e/a3/7e2ea3254623ed2428647e339a6cafce.jpg)

PTA perfects a Spielberg shot!?

7.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6a/ff/d9/6affd9797abc4636d7240cfd0d90f0a1.jpg)

Jane Eyre (1943), 7:20

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/77/16/10/771610d1b0ababf999d525c0c8ee16e2.jpg)

8.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c7/0c/31/c70c31adcc5688de1faa8fe4115d4d28.jpg)

Citizen Kane, 55:12

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a8/ae/28/a8ae2833c4e8f008cbe401bd5157f315.jpg)

Great Director Scorecard so far :

Welles : 3
Scorsese : 2
Spielberg : 2
Kubrick : 2
Hitchcock : 2


Title: Resurrection
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 07:33:02 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giYE_ZDOcX4
Title: The Nativity 2023 : To Remain in Love
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 12:10:56 PM
Okay, I'm on my medication again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENmon-ZazHM
Title: Inspired by WorldForgot to Post This
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 06:56:55 PM
Character as surrogate sacrifice
 
A main character often suffers so that the audience doesn't have to suffer the same fate. Characters learn Truths so that the audience can thereby learn them as well. Consequently, both self and society should improve after absorption of Art. Charles Foster Kane, for example, has to suffer, so we in the audience might learn not to follow his path.


Example : Barry Lyndon (1975) : when your meek author was a teenager, I told myself, "I refuse to end up like Barry Lyndon at the end. What was his character flaw that brought him to his horrible final position? I know what he didn't do. He didn't think." Hence Barry Lyndon as one of the most consequential movies in the life of this eminently law-abiding and society-loving author.


Or consider Gaspar Noe's Irreversible (2002). A woman has to suffer horror, so that the audience might not : the audience, in watching (or even in refusing to watch), is reminded to take care—especially at night, especially alone, and especially when drinking.


Or Sophocles' Oedipus. He destroys himself by asking questions. Hence the audience says, "I'm not doing that! No questions!" (Note : Comic relief.)

 
Characters are sacrifices so you might live more virtuously. But what if you're not listening? Who loses?
Title: A Gaspar Noe Vision
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 09:02:02 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cb/8a/72/cb8a72377c9cee640ef0c8953e240f6e.jpg)

DEODATO DI ORLANDI, Crucifixion of St Peter (1300-12)
Title: A.I. (2001) and the long ago
Post by: Scrooby on March 27, 2023, 09:36:41 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/34/d7/0e/34d70e9e3d5e5b982a67c4830c037fd5.jpg)
(2:01:10)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/9e/1b/0d9e1b17669b65ed3713ef6abb21f10d.jpg)
(1:59:31)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e5/4b/d7/e54bd7b61bd923879a66d23284faff36.jpg)
JACOPINO DA REGGIO, The Crucifixion with St Francis (c.1285)


NOTE: Imagery of this sort posted here is universal in scope, and need not be specific to Christians only. One can tell by my last name that I am no card-carrying follower of Christ. These posts are no endeavor to proselytize. Scrooby has no religion but Art. All of this imagery can be absorbed as a metaphor for any type of devotion or spiritual striving.

Moreover, studying old pictorial artwork will contribute to a greater understanding of the condition of a film frame.
Title: The Genius of "Making More"
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 05:16:41 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/07/ae/a5/07aea5add6264883966c5354d48f1280.jpg)
LIPPI, Filippino, Disputation with Simon Magus and Crucifixion of Peter (1481–82).

One structural technique used in this fresco is a colossal fundamental of the old masters.

Note the passageway in the center of the frame. This structural set-up conveys, as it does in every Renaissance artwork in which this structure is employed (so to speak), that there is literally a world of difference between the one side and the other.

But this extremely common technique is applied here with an added element to it, which makes the use in this particular example extra interesting : the hill in the distance, dead-center in the frame, is evidently meant to remind the Spectator of the nightmare place of Golgotha.

Note, however, what an apparently beautiful day it is weather-wise out there in the place which reminds us of the human death of a world religion's god : contrast.

(On that last line, see W. H. Auden, "Musee des Beaux Arts".)

Here, an ordinary technique is intensified. The view in the distance conveys both consonance and contrast simultaneously!

One might conclude this artist is a genius. In fact, he is, and the world knows it.
Title: Everyday People
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 05:30:36 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/78/52/73/7852730ded1c4a2b2ff834422579b2f5.jpg)
LORENZO VENEZIANO, Crucifixion of Peter (c.1370).

See that foot on the body of the unfortunate man? That foot is the everyday human of the human race. Unfortunately.
Title: Breathtaking Genius
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 05:57:08 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4c/31/31/4c3131803f0a63b7f286777107a2b991.jpg)
MASACCIO, Crucifixion of St Peter (1426).

Note the remarkable symbolism here. This unfortunate man has entered a world of pain. The doorway behind him leads to pitch darkness : not an auspicious sign. But wait. Consider the man's head, and how it is propped up on what looks like a sewer grating. A sewer is underground, just as a grave is. But the man's head is stopped from going under—and the suggestion is that he is not going under. But there's more, which is breathtaking. The sewer grating is equivalent to the holy glow around the heads of the sanctified in Renaissance painting.

This is a breathtaking genius touch. 
Title: Cinematography : Beauty and Ugliness.
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 06:50:57 AM
Let us pause for a moment to note an extremely strange phenomenon that artists in painting and film must confront : the beautiful visualization of ugliness.

That sounds like a contradiction : a beautiful depiction of the death of a god?

I remember when I saw Mississippi Burning (1988) in the movie theater way back when. In it is one shot of especially horrible American history : the hanging of a black slave. What struck my young mind was the extreme beauty of the shot : the slave is hanging amid a wealth of fiery flames, captured with all the genius of the cinematographer Peter Biziou. If one removes the content of the shot, the shot is wondrously beautiful in color, shadow, nighttime atmosphere—state-of-the-art lensing back in 1988.

Even as a kid I noted the contradiction happening there : We are watching an extremely beautiful shot of something extremely horrible!
 
This is the precise same problem the Renaissance painters faced when depicting the crucifixion.

Europe has many, many, many thousands of beautiful crucifixions!

This theme/structure dichotomy is an inherent glitch in Art. Isn't it? Generally speaking, what is ugly in life should be captured as ugly in art—right?

But how do you get Spectators to contemplate your ugly subject if the presentation repels the eye?

I have been considering this phenomenon since 1988 and I haven't moved any further from simply noting the problem : Art's strange phenomenon of depicting ugliness beautifully.
Title: The boring task of crucifying someone?
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 07:09:06 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a1/df/73/a1df73cb84fe211fb8f2baf79c348541.jpg)
RENI, Guido, Crucifixion of St Peter (1604-05)

The human race : Look how bored the guy at the top looks!

And here we have a colossally common film technique (e.g., Alma throughout Phantom Thread): the guy's face is both light and dark!

In this instance, one wonders why. Theory : he is actually not a terrible human being, but has been tasked with this unhappy assignment. So it's St Peter—or him.
Title: Colors Red and Green and the Eye
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 07:53:41 AM
Science tells us that the red and green photoreceptors in our eyes are extremely close in at least two ways :

"The gene that encodes for our green receptor, and the gene that encodes for our red receptor, evolved via a gene duplication. It's likely that they would have originally been almost identical in their sensitivities." James P. Higham, "The red and green specialists: why human colour vision is so odd"

"The molecular genetics of color vision has turned out to be much more complex than originally suspected. This complexity derives in part from the fact that red and green opsin genes are adjacent to one another and they are about 98% identical." Maureen Neitz & Jay Neitz, "Molecular Genetics of Color Vision and Color Vision Defects"

Somehow the Renaissance artists had an inkling of this connection. The red/green combination is a remarkably common color combination of the Renaissance.

Hence, for example :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6e/b1/d9/6eb1d95eb2f16a43023c6655342a3693.jpg)

And so (of course) :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a9/33/f6/a933f67d2ef5c87b0b6cb14d3ed3b09f.jpg)


Title: Wings of Light
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 08:13:47 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/02/ba/81/02ba818b961b156d0f8d44331c4f1fe4.jpg)
TINTORETTO, Crucifixion (1565), Oil on canvas, Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice.
 
Is it just me or does the light look like wings? The crucified has the last laugh. Genius.
Title: Moon in Daylight?
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 08:42:43 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c1/30/2d/c1302def4f72363f712e08d4644be671.jpg)
UNKNOWN MASTER, Flemish, Crucifixion (1435-45)

If it isn't the moon, then what is it? A blot on existence? What if we consider it psychologically? Is it something to stare into, for reasons the Reader can theorize on? Or perhaps it's a type of angel approaching? Or the darkness of death approaching? Or something approaching? The abyss arriving to swallow them up? Whatever it is, it's the most strikingly strange image out of the many hundreds I've seen today.

At the very least it can be defined as an anomaly. To make the Spectator uneasy?

Notice the contrast between the circle and the jagged peaks.

Perhaps it's an enigma "simply" to remind the Spectator of the enigma of life and all else?

Could it be the opening of a tunnel in the sky, such as in the Stephen King story "The Langoliers"? Is it something like this :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/35/36/86/3536862fda18b601979c31c66c54487b.jpg)
NBK, 8:04. Driving into the abyss.

It also recalls :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4d/fb/62/4dfb6231bc8c7d1118d76fb19cbcfc1a.jpg)
BOSCH, Hieronymus, Triptych of Garden of Earthly Delights (outer wings)
Title: Arrival
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 09:02:08 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/51/6a/7a/516a7ae5b8096e9e08be9c52a4148764.jpg)
Title: This is a . . .
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 09:25:15 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e9/6d/ab/e96dab922ffce750b3b59b0d3e9a77f7.jpg)

I posted this pic so the topic of today may not end on a down note. A bit of a smile in the midst of seriousness does not have to be a crime; and I am not taking this or any related religious subject lightly. This post is like a "breathing out".
Title: Magnolia
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 06:57:02 PM
glowing paper

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5a/ab/61/5aab61ef1be42b60a635024812790f08.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1e/af/b0/1eafb0deae218c9726275fcfafb1a508.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/58/4d/40/584d4042f0b39f55aeeea403c418200a.jpg)

Barthes

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e2/59/9c/e2599ca9ee92452bcc3e8c31b0f69ab7.jpg)
S/Z by Roland Barthes is a colossal work of 20th-century Art Comprehension Scholarship. The entire book is a virtual word-for-word analysis of one very short story by Balzac.

Memories of Thelma Todd

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/49/ff/d649ffb0fda76e57c08e4685acab41d8.jpg)
You Made Me Love You (1933). She died of carbon monoxide poisoning when she fell asleep in a car in a garage in 1935.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/77/f8/9f77f852e6f4e99fd4488623a0e08988.jpg)

Powell and Loy : I Love You Again (1940)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cd/85/8f/cd858f45bf816cfc36ec898200aad128.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/88/04/63/8804639bf3b0ced63d81ed0d9242d7ac.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/7e/49/4e7e495a14ab6ccf2a3906093d7180be.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/71/2a/47/712a476d06cf3f33e3380c3f375f4c87.jpg)

Emphasizing the lens.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/77/57/64/7757646048588ff8c0205b07ca9821ed.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/f5/96/ccf5969dc297065589b7ae8ba78efe0c.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/91/bb/a7/91bba7ada15880f908eda2c4ff8b9e2a.jpg)

"water flares"

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b3/3f/74/b33f7491347625bc965ce00dfcf5606a.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ac/17/ee/ac17ee21c97f831cdb787d10d438004f.jpg)

The whites of the eyes.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/70/6c/8d/706c8d4564b363dbdc696200c800a6c5.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/80/49/f4/8049f4bc971a1ffee9dfd5de741b7352.jpg)

The rainbow

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bc/1e/b4/bc1eb4607122cae040a471165839c47c.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d1/59/e2/d159e237a382fee26da35288b1c542b7.jpg)

Crying for Kubrick?

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/86/36/e2/8636e2be00343cfea4d30430e4905458.jpg)

"Good boy."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/37/5c/0d375c620877f2cd040726bf5b39ae95.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/40/c2/b5/40c2b5304b834b3bf8ee4e3274ae3dac.jpg)

and lastly

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fe/fb/97/fefb9798ff686f5b5e1502dd96bf2260.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/4f/94/0d4f94b9a2d06c949d3cf79eb7c74c78.jpg)
Title: S/Z, by Roland Barthes (book prominent in Magnolia)
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 09:47:58 PM
S/Z by Roland Barthes : an intro to Barthes

"Once the author is removed," writes Barthes in "The Death of the Author", "the claim to decipher a text becomes quite futile. To give a text an Author is to impose a limit on that text, to furnish it with a final signified, to close the writing. Such a conception suits criticism very well, the latter then allotting itself the important task of discovering the Author (or its hypostases : society, history, psyche, liberty) beneath the work : when the Author has been found, the text is 'explained'—victory to the critic. Hence there is no surprise in the fact that, historically, the reign of the Author has also been that of the critic. . . . In the multiplicity of writing, everything is to be disentangled, nothing deciphered; the structure can be followed, 'run' (like the thread of a stocking) at every point and at every level, but there is nothing beneath : the space of writing is to be ranged over, not pierced; writing ceaselessly posits meaning ceaselessly to evaporate it, carrying out a systematic exemption of meaning. In precisely this way literature (it would be better from now on to say writing), by refusing to assign a 'secret', an ultimate meaning, in the text (and to the world as text), liberates what may be called an anti-theological activity, an activity that is truly revolutionary since to refuse to fix meaning is, in the end, to refuse God and his hypostases—reason, science, law."

From his "From Work to Text" : "The text is experienced only in an activity of production."

Some lines from S/Z :

"The goal of literary work is to make the reader no longer a consumer, but a producer of the text."

Otherwise, "the reader is plunged into a kind of idleness. . . . Instead of gaining access to the magic of the signifier, to the pleasure of writing, he is left with no more than the poor freedom either to accept or reject the text : reading is nothing more than a referendum."

"The text is not a thing, we would have a hard time finding it in a bookstore. . . . The text is a perpetual present . . . The text is ourselves writing. . . ."

"Meaning can never take over the absolutely plural text . . . based as it is on the infinity of language."

"Reading is no longer consumption, but play."


All this applies to film.
Title: Colossally Important Points
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 10:13:50 PM
Barthes : "Rereading, an operation contrary to the commercial and ideological habits of our society, which would have us 'throw away' the story once it has been consumed, so that we can then move on to another story, buy another book, is tolerated only in certain marginal categories of readers (children, old people, and professors). . . . Rereading is here suggested at the outset [of the first reading]. . . . Rereading multiplies the text in its variety and its plurality. . . . Rereading contests the claim which would have us believe that the first reading is a primary reading which we will only, afterwards, have to 'explicate', to intellectualize. . . . Rereading is no longer consumption, but play. . . ."

Jacques Derrida puts it succinctly : "The return to the book is also the abandoning of the book." (i.e., your old understanding of it)

and also says, in Of Grammatology : "The sign is the unity of a heterogeneity."

And all this recalls Nietzsche's "joyful, wilful forgetting."

And back to Barthes : "The text is . . . an irreducible plurality."
Title: Xixax Springs Eternal
Post by: Scrooby on March 28, 2023, 10:40:59 PM
Derrida : "By never saying enough, I thereby say too much."
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on April 21, 2023, 02:55:39 AM
O sun, O moon,
who shine down on our land, our people
bright with grace;
you whom we care for, and who care for us :
hear now our holy song!

Hear the high-reaching art of our children,
these, the pious girls and boys of our land,
who shall sing a song of praise to please you.

Kind light of Inspiration,
who gifts us refining beauty,
or hides it—
may you, the endlessly reborn,
look favourably on us
and on our mighty city!
 
Bring us new birth easy and fine!
Goddess of fresh life, protect our mothers,
who give our own light back into the world.
 
Goddess, lead your children!
Nurture our resolution!
Let us bring new excellence
to ourselves.
Let marriage of women and men
yield fruitful and productive substance,
 
so we may found a ceaseless age of thought
and art, to please our daylight,
and our darkness.
 
O Truth, you who were sung by Fate
ages ago, and watch over Time and limits,
may you be kind to our kingdom,
and keep us stable all the way to the end.
 





Horace, Song of the Future (Carmen Saeculare), re-imagined by JSB
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 13, 2023, 03:22:50 AM
1. JSB was the first casualty of Covid censorship in the UK media.

2a. In March 2020, JSB sent emails to all of the UK newspapers, pointing out the moronic response by the UK publishing world, controlled by Bertelsmann (Germany), to the increasing Covid threat.

2b. Artellus Ltd.'s Twitter feed included a series of horrific jokes making light of Covid, a moral monstrosity which literary agent Leslie Gardner (Salman Rushdie's first book; A Clockwork Orange) refused to remove until I acted not with politeness but with strength (the newspaper emails).

2c. In early 2020, Italy was being destroyed by Covid—and check out Artellus' relationship to Italy!

3. At this time, JSB's first breakthrough, after 15 unpublished books and 30 years of working in silence, was about to be published. JSB, therefore, warned Artellus to stop with its silliness, because JSB believed the colossally offensive Twitter rubbish might hurt JSB's book.

4. What happened? One review only. In the history of publishing in 21st-century London, how many books have been reviewed in only one major place? The "London" Review of Books was the sole place of review.

5a. Title of the review? "Ah, how miserable!"

5b. My own words were used against me.

6. "Ah, how miserable!"? An author's first book? A review written by a professor at the University of Pennsylvania? (Emily Wilson) A book review without a single positive word?

7. Since that time, JSB attempted suicide four times.

8. Justice will be served : legally.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 22, 2023, 11:06:52 AM
Statius, The Achilleid

Outrunning the military of city Lacedaemon,
Prince Alexandros of Troy, with lovely Helen beside him,
had launched his ships onto river Eurotas, and was threading
toward the sea and safety. Nothing more beautiful had he seen
living or unliving than Helen, so he had won her heart,
the now-absconded queen of Lacedaemon. She put her hand
in his as he fled his crime—all according to his mother's
prophecy, dreamed long ago while he had kicked in the womb.
She had seen herself birth a fire that set her city aflame.
(But what man doesn't believe himself able to outwit Fate?)
And so Alexandros made for the sea, and his course for home.

Now Nereid Helle, swimming amid sparkles of sunlight,
unhappy to be in the sea but doomed for eternity
to haunt its waves—so that the Hellespontos itself received
its name from this once-mortal princess—took sight of the many
ships with an interest, then dove down deep into the under.

So soon it was sea-goddess Thetis who rose up through the dark.
(Ah, you parents, you whose predictions are too-often fulfilled!)
She took fright at the oarpaddles frothing in the transparent sea.
The seawaters boiled between the shores of the strait, through which
the Golden Fleece had once come. The fleet's ferment had disarranged
its level surface and disrupted its many mistresses;
so Thetis, with all her many sisters, leapt out of the waves.

When they came into the air, first they shook off the salty spray
from their bodies. Then Thetis spoke : "This fleet seeks to attack me!
They sail toward slaughter, and would put my son in Hades' place.
I understand these signs. What my father warned me is coming true.
Bellona, goddess of death, brings Priam a new daughter-in-law."

From behind her closed eyes Thetis said : "I see a thousand keels
defiling the Ionian Sea, and the Aegean.
Greece united with Atreus won't be satisfaction enough;
they'll also want my son. Soon they'll look across land and sea
to find Achilles—and he will voluntarily follow.

They'll find him by Pelion Mountain, where Chiron once tutored
Jason, and Heracles, and Theseus—and now my Achilles.
Right now I see him in playbattles with the Centaurs as guides,
and he already regards himself as strong as his father,
silly thing. Ah, sadness! for a mother to feel such a fear
for her child! How maddening, that at the first, when the trees
of his homeland were felled and fitted together as seaships
that came our way, I and all my sisters failed to raise up the sea,
and break their sails, and sink these unholy criminals down
in a fathomless storm! It's too late now! The crime has happened!"

So what, sea-goddess Thetis thought to herself, would she do now?

"I will go," she said, "to Zeus—there is nothing else I can do—
and beg him the best way I can—and I'll appeal to his love
for his own mother Rhea, and father—and ask for a storm."


to be continued
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 24, 2023, 04:40:03 AM
Statius, The Achilleid

3.

Thus spoke Thetis, who then shot up like lightning into the heavens.
High Zeus, then, infinite in age and sight, came into view. Though
as spacious as all Time and Space, he yet reduces the size
of his dimensions, to taste of the delights of Creation.
Just now he was returning from the hospitable table
of river Oceanus with a face of sheer contentment :
nectar drawn off from the river-waters had left him relaxed.
His horses skimmed the sea-surface so lightly, hardly any
sea-spray dappled the warm evening air. The mermans haunting
the rocks of the sea sang quietly as the god passed them by.
No storm or wind frustrated his homeward journey.
God, then, coming into the Tyrrhenian Sea, received salute
from seraphim following above and below him. And he
passed Thetis by as if unawares and returned to Olympus.

So sea-goddess Thetis appealed next to Poseidon. He came
to her astride his triple horses, who were equine in chest,
but with fins behind them which wiped out their prints as they galloped
on the deep. And Thetis said :

"O great father! Monarch of the Under! See what misery
they bring to your seas! Criminals fleeing the land now sail
safely ever since Jason shattered the illustricity
of your waves with his thievery! Now another criminal
flees along your routes, the man who chose recklessly on sacred
Ida! Ah! What impious injury to heaven and earth!
And furthermore—to me! Is this how we enjoy our privilege?
Are those two following the rightful ways of Aphrodite?
Or maybe it's ingratitude from Aphrodite, child
of the sea? These ships don't carry the pious, or Theseus!
If any honour is due to you and these waters, drown them!
Or abandon all of your sovereignty over the seas.
What I ask is nothing cruel : allow me to fear for my son.
Prevent a flood of grief from taking me away! Don't think of me
off on a beach somewhere, alone, with my head bowed to the waves,
and the stones of a tomb raised beside me."

Thus did Thetis plead to Poseidon. During all this begging
the goddess had carved up her cheeks with her clawed fingernails.
Now her dazzling face was etched with beads of immortal blood,
and she wildly blocked his horses' way with her bared breasts.

So the Monarch of the Seas pulled up on his reins. Poseidon
invited Thetis sea-goddess into his golden chariot.
Then he began to speak to her in a kind and loving way
while holding her hand, to soothe her. "Those ships will sail by
whether we like it or not, Thetis. I cannot destroy them.
The Fates will have their way and cannot be prevented, even
by gods. We are at their mercy, too."

Poseidon with one hand cleansed the woe from the goddess' face;
the other he dropped on her knee. Poseidon then continued :

"Ages ago Europe and Asia were fated for battle
with bloody hands; and Zeus has allowed it, and so it shall be.
That fleet sails unawares into ten long years of slaughter.
But your son shall gain imperishable glory in the dust
by the Scamander. You shall see sights of his heroism
unmatched by man. Many Trojan mothers he shall leave weeping
for their sons. The grandson of Aeacides shall flood the plain
with blood, and the rivers, too—and a terrible fate awaits
Priam's Hector. Your Achilles will even tear down the walls
I built there!—and the ancient Ilium shall go up in flames."

Thus he spoke. Thetis then lightly lifted his hand from her knee.
The god saw her face glowing fresh and smooth again, and he said :

"Men all over shall believe your Achilles no son of man,
but of Zeus. And your grief won't go unanswered. You will use my
waters—I shall let you—to bring that fleet there to the bottom
of the sea. When the time comes and Cape Caphereus ignites
its lights, the homeward ships will wreck themselves on the rocks, and we
will pass no little time in terrorizing Odysseus."

4.

The god had spoken, and the lowered eyes of Thetis goddess
showed her misfortune at the rejection. She had been hoping
to scuttle the criminal ships threading through the Hellespont,
but it was not to be. So her thoughts turned to something other.

With three long sad thoughtful strokes she swam across the Aegean
and came to Haemonia, place of magic. Her naked feet
stepped up out of the foam and onto the land of ancient Greece.
The Hills of Cynoscephalae raised their heads in happiness
to see her; while many caverns broadened, like a smile,
to invite her in. Delightedly the Sperchios River
hugged her ankles when she stepped in its fresh-water stream. Thetis,
though, took no joy in the place. With her heart and mind in distress,
the goddess, hoping desperation might give her eloquence,
sought out the reverend tutor Chiron. Reaching his dwelling
required an arduous journey up a steep mountainside
through difficult and unpleasant terrain, to find the one cave
opening that led to his vast dwelling inside, on whose roof
rested the entire summit and tip of Pelion Mountain.
Part was hollowed out by hand, part cracked wide by decaying age.
Signa and couches of the gods furnished the interior—
these ornaments distinguished the spots where each Olympian
had excavated the rock. The Centaur's home comprised a network
of many airy caves. Unlike his violent brother Centaurs,
here the many spear-points were clean of human blood, and no shafts
had fractured during drunken warplay. Not one mixing-bowl here
had been flung at a brother during a feast. Here, the quivers
hung neatly on pegs in open spaces softened by many
animal skins. All these weapons, long retired from service,
memorialized his youth. These days he went around unarmed,
and worked at researching his herbs that gave medicinal care
to spirits hanging in the balance; or he strummed his lyre
and sang of ancient heroes as instruction to his student.

Now the cave went dim, and goddess Thetis turned to see Chrion
standing four-footed at the threshold, the half-horse, half-human
Centaur, now a looming shadow, blocking the only way out.
But he stepped forward with a smile, and invited her in
(though she stood inside already), and he took her hand in his,
courteously. And while overjoyed at the sight of her,
his shoulders sank at the thought of his crude dwelling in her eyes,
and he warned her of the unsteady places of his cavern.
Then the dignified healer bent to his hearth. He brightened things
with a fire, and began preparing a meal; and Thetis
sea-goddess began to speak, saying :

"Chiron! Where is my child? And tell me since when does the boy
live apart from you for any length of time? Old friend, tell me this!
Shall a mother ignore the signs in her nightmares, breathed into
her mind from the gods, inspiring many terrors? Sometimes
I see sword-points piercing my womb from the inside out; sometimes
fears overcome me like wild animals tearing my breasts.
Even under water I wring my hands dry with lamentation.
Worse horror—In my dreams I see myself bearing my own son
down into Hades and drenching him in the waters of the Styx.

Now I have more secrets to tell you. The old man of the sea
instructs me to purify my son in a rite by the shores
of Oceanus, if I am to undo my fears. I'm to stand facing the west
and its unknown waters warmed by the declining stars at dawn.
There we must make terrible sacrifices—gifts to unknown gods.
But to say it all would take ages; and I am forbidden
to speak of it anyway. Just tell me where to find my son."

Thus spoke Thetis, weaving a fabricated tale for Chiron.
For how could she tell him she planned to dress her son in girls' clothes?


to be continued
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 25, 2023, 05:58:57 AM
Phantom Thread and ancient Greece

Your tireless author has written at length on PTA and the ancient Greeks ("Sophocles and Phantom Thread") and now look. At 5:43, Woodcock looks for all the world as if drinking from an ancient Greek kylix (κύλιξ). Then at 5:48 Cyril is framed as if by symmetrical Greek columns.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/89/61/638961ec809e1f791937d4bb9c2c7bd3.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a4/52/6e/a4526ef0760cb8b1f506ef5e0986be4b.jpg)
Title: The Skew
Post by: Scrooby on June 26, 2023, 03:03:57 AM
The Skew

Chinatown (1974), 1:53:45

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2e/7b/cb/2e7bcb042e1f39dfca9bd49c7a917679.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/a6/c4/9fa6c444fcf29d2a30ee63255c2ee18d.jpg)
22:49
Title: Colossal Clue
Post by: Scrooby on June 26, 2023, 05:10:57 AM
Colossal Clue : The Wounded Muse

Alma : "I want you flat on your back. Helpless. . . . With only me to help. And then I want you strong again. . . . You might wish you were going to die, but you're not going to." (1:58:28–1:59:06)

Remind anyone of Annie Wilkes in Stephen King's Misery? (1987)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on June 27, 2023, 09:48:30 AM
Quote from: Scrooby on June 26, 2023, 03:03:57 AMThe Skew

Chinatown (1974), 1:53:45

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2e/7b/cb/2e7bcb042e1f39dfca9bd49c7a917679.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/a6/c4/9fa6c444fcf29d2a30ee63255c2ee18d.jpg)
22:49


Bro what
Title: Laser Blast 2600
Post by: Scrooby on June 27, 2023, 01:53:29 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c8/36/c5/c836c531e0bac482f7cde34b3091b296.jpg)
Title: Don't Mess with Xixax
Post by: Scrooby on June 27, 2023, 02:22:01 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1a/f1/89/1af1898b9d4fa7ce66a71e3aaf40840c.jpg)
Staring into the lens.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/53/3d/2b/533d2bb44bd23dde2f097eb40217fe2b.jpg)
Animal Mother aiming at the lens.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b0/d0/d1/b0d0d177dc4bf07e64a817d4b7a9abaa.jpg)
Staring into the circular lens flare from the flaming monolith.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7a/80/83/7a80830f601da971d312be16568d0881.jpg)
Don't Mess with Texas.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a7/12/a0/a712a0738d1bc74f7a74ed7eed05a78f.jpg)


Title: Boom Boom
Post by: Scrooby on June 28, 2023, 05:17:10 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/82/3e/17/823e17018f65eafa5f45efcdfea34299.jpg)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on June 28, 2023, 05:22:37 PM
Quote from: Scrooby on June 27, 2023, 02:22:01 PM(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b0/d0/d1/b0d0d177dc4bf07e64a817d4b7a9abaa.jpg)
Staring into the circular lens flare from the flaming monolith.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7a/80/83/7a80830f601da971d312be16568d0881.jpg)
Don't Mess with Texas.


In your Cinematography dot com post you included more context, ie the talk of Oswald earlier in the flick. I found that bit of info insightful to this allusion you're gleaning! I know it's fun to parse out mysteries, but I wanna mention that your ish iz more pertinent when there's more of your voice and discovery within the text itself.  :yabbse-cool:
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on June 28, 2023, 05:28:08 PM
Zodiac-like Cross

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3f/7e/4a/3f7e4a058cb00682cd0472313e3adcb2.jpg)
1:31:09

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/de/e1/a8/dee1a8f16a13a8722643b5ac20a2c6c2.jpg)
1:36:33

Sure, WF. Increasing, but easing in. . . .
Title: PT Music Cue
Post by: Scrooby on June 29, 2023, 03:18:04 AM
Phantom Thread Music Cue ?

48:00

= Beethoven, Piano Sonata #31, Op. 110 : 3. Adagio (for example, at 2:00)
Title: the company of maidens
Post by: Scrooby on July 04, 2023, 11:41:41 AM
14.

Concealed, meanwhile, beneath the disguise of a young woman,
Achilles deceived everyone, except for Deidamia,
who came to know him as a man—indeed, intimately so.
Now she herself had to conceal what she knew, too, and her love
besides; and lived in endless agitation of being caught
by her sisters. What happened was, when Achilles stood tall
in the circle of girls after Thetis departed (leaving him
to apply or put by his simulated modesty at will),
the girl he chose as closest companion was Deidamia,
though all the girls, in fact, eventually pressed their bodies
against his, in that magic circle. With mild words the boy
from the wilds meticulously pursued her, seizing her
gaze at every chance, inviting her with his seductive eyes.
Now he stands much too close to her (and she doesn't avoid him),
now playfully tosses flowers on her, now knocks fruit baskets
over on purpose so they bend together to retrieve them,
now he taps her—suggestively—with a magic Bacchic wand.
Together they sat and he showed her each slender lyre string,
producing sweet sounds recalling the songs of Chiron;
then he guided her hand, and coaxed her fingers to pluck a tune
from the resonating instrument. And then he embraced her
and blessed her with a thousand kisses. Other times she listened :
where is Mount Pelion? Who is Aeacus? Their constant talk
bewitched her. One time Deidamia took up the lyre
and sang to the face of Achilles. She also counseled him
in demure body posture; and demonstrated to the boy
how best to spin the raw wool, untangling the messes made
with his innocent thumb. Throughout all this the sound of his voice
always held her spellbound, and the authority of his weight
on hers, and how he smartly stayed away from her friends; also
the light of his eyes, and how he often took deep breaths while
he spoke with her. Just as he readies to speak out his deceit,
she slips from him and refuses to hear any confession.
Thus, in this way, Rhea's son Zeus, sovereign of Olympus,
gave dangerous kisses to his untroubled sister Hera,
who thought of him no more than a brother, until dignity
of family gave way, and the sister feared his altered love.

15.

At last, frightened Thetis' deceit will be exposed—just not yet.
There was a forest reaching high up into the open sky.
In its shade went the sisters to celebrate the biannual
festival to Bacchus, bearing dismembered parts of cattle,
tree trunks dug out of the earth—all sorts of offerings to please
the god in his visionary frenzy. By law, men must stay
away. Old King Lycomedes reiterated the law :
"Off-limits are the woods to all males!" And that wasn't all.
Standing at each boundary point was a fearsome priestess, there
to catch any man straying unlawfully into the female
camp. During all this Achilles laughed silently to himself,
while he led the company of maidens in worship, waving
his arms around all wrong (yet so becoming in the girls' eyes).
All the congregation marvels at him. No longer the most
beautiful of them all is Deidamia. Achilles
now surpasses her as much as she surpasses the others.
So he wears the fawnskin on his well-knit body, and his head
is garlanded with a wreath of purple flowers, and his hand
holds the Bacchic thyrsus wreathed in ivy, and all the sisters
stand before him with eyes devoted to his comely figure.
Forgetting their prayers, all had lifted to him adoring faces.
Title: Barry : "give me the **** number!"
Post by: Scrooby on July 05, 2023, 11:45:05 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/b2/22/d6b222ba52a9ef90a41b5c7d1912e8a8.jpg)
Adolph von Menzel, "A Flute Concert of Frederick the Great at Sanssouci" (1852)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/17/97/99/179799f40ae696a40170b19d33049c3f.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/05/b7/dc/05b7dcf88165d12b43d8e45c0a34875d.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/59/3d/a0/593da06b9a7a95044cc1bde9bfbc3136.jpg)
Barry Lyndon (1975), 2:12:23–2:14:33
Title: Nolan/Kubrick
Post by: Scrooby on July 05, 2023, 11:55:44 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/99/25/55/9925550925b37c45818ac8edc756acf2.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b1/1d/91/b11d9139d7fd805f31cc2713e3c4fb2c.jpg)
What is up and what is down?

Interstellar (2014), 1:35:01
2001 : A Space Odyssey (1968), 2:07:52
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Reel on July 06, 2023, 01:17:03 PM
You're just fucking with us now
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 04:40:54 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3b/ca/31/3bca31418205c9d0fadbab91f42ad67d.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/19/14/49/191449f41e7741991ed496fea3e25c82.jpg)
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b1/ad/33/b1ad33b84058bcb28696b9f87f9fab40.jpg)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 06:05:48 AM
The Muse on Her Throne.

Alma (ἄνεμος anima) : "Reynolds has made my dreams come true, and I have given him what he desires most in return."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/38/f4/db/38f4dbbed601dc7537afdb2437a74042.jpg)

1:17. Bottom left of fiery frame : See the Χρυσόσκονες (glitter-gold) of Parnassus?

Behind Alma on her Throne of Nature? Depiction of a draped personage on a pedestal, or Corinthian column?

*

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
the brightest heaven of invention!
Shakespeare, Henry V, 1–2

*

ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα . . .
Homer, Odyssey, 1.1

[man] [to me] [ speak of] , [Muse] . . .

*

Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine laeso,
quidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus
insignem pietate virum, tot adire labores
impulerit. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae?
Virgil, Aeneid, 1.8–11

*

In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas
corpora; di, coeptis (nam vos mutastis et illas)
adspirate meis primaque ab origine mundi
ad mea perpetuum deducite tempora carmen.
Ovid, Metamorphoses, 1.1–4

di : goddess
adspirate meis : breathe into me . . .

*

Magnanimum Aeaciden formidatamque Tonanti
progeniem et patrio vetitam succedere caelo,
diva, refer.
Statius, Achillied, 1.1–3

*

Tiresias
tu lucis inopem, gnata, genitorem regens
manifesta sacri signa fatidici refer.
Seneca, Oedipus, 301–2.

Loose translation : "Forget any muse. Daughter, recount the sacred prophetic signs to me. Though blind I'll guide you to light."

*

Note the darkness in the frame : Alma enthroned in a deep darkness. Through most of creative history, the Muse has been depicted as a loveliness.

For example

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/04/20/dc/0420dcff567cad24045e4386c4943bff.jpg)
Simon Vouet, The Muses Urania and Calliope (c.1634)

Seneca, however, in a number of places, jeers (laments?) at the ongoing effort of creative exertion; for example, his reference to Sisyphus and friends at the outset of Thyestes (6–12). This echo is picked up by Stephen King's Misery. And the torch has passed to PT.
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 06:35:14 AM
Three Dolly Zooms, and Why

1:00
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/44/0f/4d/440f4d0c08ffdab0df7d5def5962d28d.jpg)

30:29
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d5/f4/f3/d5f4f36d137cf10e41e813fa966d214e.jpg)

1:32:44
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f2/98/3b/f2983bd6884e71180d309a098896c699.jpg)
(Is this the Dolly Zoom of longest duration in the history of Hollywood cinema?) The shot is 1:31:40-1:34:58.

Why? Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Example : 26 Dolly Zooms in Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980), Episode 1 :

1. (1:27–1:39)
2. (1:47–1:57) 
3. (3:47–3:50) 
4. (4:10–4:18)
5. (6:19–6:23)
6. (24:25–24:34)
7. (24:57–24:59) 
8. (35:30–35:42)
9.  (37:09–37:17)
10. (37:47–37:47) 
12. (47:12–47:18)
12. (50:46–50:53) 
13. (51:41–51:55) 
14. (53:51–54:09) 
15. (57:21–57:24)
16. (59:16–59:20)
17. (59:21–59:26)
18. (59:28–59:34)
19. (1:07:02–1:07:09)
20. (1:07:22–1:07:54) 
21. (1:08:21–1:08:41)
22. (1:10:42–1:10:48)
23. (1:14:18–1:14:31)
24. (1:17:24–1:17:29)
25. (1:17:37–1:17:43)
26. (1:09:19–1:19:14)
Title: Cyril's stomach
Post by: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 03:57:23 PM
Cyril : "Accept her invitation, if you can stomach it." (48:58)

A word of multi-resonance in this mushrooming narrative.

Cyril : ancient Greek (κῡ́ριος) for Master?!
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 07:05:11 PM
On the calligraphy of the title Phantom Thread.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)

00.

"All writing or lettering is a form of drawing." Frederic Goudy, Alphabet and Elements of Lettering (London : Constable, 1963), 24. See also Nicolete Gray, Lettering as Drawing (NY : Taplinger Publishing, 1982).

0.

Good news : "Intellectual activity dismantles the simultaneity of spatial structure." / Rudolf Arheim, Visual Thinking (Berkeley : University of California Press, 1969), 238.

1.

Lettering : key items to consider : size, weight, width, form, placement, posture.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)

(a.) Oppositions between letters.

Opposing directions : P with h in "Phantom"
Opposing directions : T with h, and h with r in "Thread"

These oppositions skew the elegance : an instability to noble poise.

(b.) Oppositions/anxieties within letters.

P : irregular : the thickness of its swell with respect to its other (thinner) stroke-details (e.g., stem, head serif).

h : the cramped width of its curved leg.

Cramped : Note how the "bowl" (the open space) of the o has less of a swell than the bowl of the a. Is this uncommon? See, say, Hoefnagel's lower-case alphabet of the 1590s. More generally, do more charts of the miniscule alphabets of European history contain more instances of a more-open "o" than "a"? Theory : yes.

(c.) Optical Volume

"The combined appearance of the spacing between letters is called Optical Volume" / Frank J. Romano, The TypEncyclopedia (London : Bowker, 1984), 100.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)

The Optical Volume here—the widths of interspaces between the letters—is seemingly composed of different dimensions, generating uneasiness.

(d.) Thematic

r : the long spur approximates a slender thread. And . . . ? A reaching out? And . . . ?

(e.) Serifs

Opposition : letters with serifs mixed with letters without serifs (h; t, m, r).
Opposition : the rectilinear serifs (P, T) with the jaunty curved swashes (e.g., d) and endings (e.g., a).

We might say this penmanship is "dual" : both "masculine" (rectilinear) and "feminine" (curved).

(f.) Verdict : Schizophrenia.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)

2. Note the visual noise.

"As psychologists have so often pointed out, the serifs are not merely decorative. They connect the effects of irradiation ('visual spead'); and in any passage of consecutive print, they contribute appreciably towards the horizontal movement of the eye." / Sir Cyril Burt, A Psychological Study of Typography (London : Cambridge University Press, 1959), 9.

Using the above quote as a guide, may we theorize that this title card contributes to a feeling of eye-whirling Vertigo?

Note the knots.

And the infinity sign : a separate stroke? Duality : The ornamentation surrounding "Phantom Thread" is not the product of one elegantly elaborate stroke, but two.

3. Closer detail

The dot finishing the head-serif of the T : the P does not have one. Asymmetry.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)

4a. Final Verdict

Schizophrenia. Visual Noise. Entrapment. Asymmetry. The set of relations here create an uneasiness amid the elegance.

Artist William Hogarth definied the wavy line of calligraphy as the "line of grace". Here, the lines of grace contribute to a knot.

4b. Final Verdict

"De Divina Proportione" : Fra Luca de Pacioli (1400s) believed in mathematically-designed symmetry in designing letterforms. / See his alphabet in Stanley Morrison, Pacioli's Classic Roman Alphabet (New York : Dover Publications, Inc., 1994).

The title card of Phantom Thread does not convey the vibes of "De Divina Proportione".


5. Other books consulted

Michelle P. Brown & Patricia Lovett, The Historical Source Book for Scribes (London : The British Library, 1999).
Lee Hendrix and Thea Vignau-Wilberg, An Abecedarium (London : Thames and Hudson, 1997).
Edward Johnston, Writing & Illuminating, & Lettering (London: A&C Black, 1994).
Edward Tufte, Visual Explanations (Cheshire, CT : Graphics Press, 1997).

6. Bonus

Kierkegaard, Journals : "The whole human existence . . . is merely the consequence of a false step."

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fd/13/c5/fd13c56789636c7691434809e9c99979.jpg)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 08, 2023, 04:53:11 AM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/54/72/fa/5472fa6563f1359aa77a68de511a5573.jpg)

The cinematographer's subtle purple ambience (note door at extreme left) helps to express the garment : its vibe suffuses the air of the frame : the characters inbreathe its magic (adspirate meis).

The cinematographer also accords the purple of the drapes with the garment. Compare their color value with this earlier shot :

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b1/ad/33/b1ad33b84058bcb28696b9f87f9fab40.jpg)
Title: Whoo
Post by: Scrooby on July 08, 2023, 05:09:40 AM
Eyelights of the Muse

Like a 1930s Hollywood cinema camera.

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/30/fb/a4/30fba40f1b71109e7b04bf2b54728851.jpg)

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4e/e9/46/4ee946974f2a964d827a696d2c442d4e.jpg)


Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 08, 2023, 05:32:56 AM
Bresson? Bergman?

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/aa/dd/a0/aadda0e331bfef1cd3bce69548da4962.jpg)

Phantom Thread, 1:11:15


Title: Viri
Post by: Scrooby on July 08, 2023, 05:56:19 AM
Viri

(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/39/47/62/394762b23886ce44a59ede8a9fa326df.jpg)

Phantom Thread, 1:12:20.

vir = male.
declension (genitive) : viri

viri = also genitive form of virus

Meaning? There is an inescapable etymological association between the words "virility" and "poison", and an originary link is a word for "slime" (e.g., say, stromatolites, protoplasm).

This chucklesome contrast recalls the etymological association between "marriage" and "grief" in ancient Greek (κῆδος).
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 16, 2023, 04:49:09 PM
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f4/a1/c0/f4a1c09c1f7f306a9473a7104c3b8b57.jpg)
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: Scrooby on July 16, 2023, 04:49:23 PM
The surplus that allows the Creator to surpass.
Title: Oppenheimer (2023)
Post by: Scrooby on July 21, 2023, 06:03:24 AM
Oppenheimer (Hughesian-beginning) : "Who'd want to justify their whole life?"

Citizen Kane
(end) : "I don't think any word can explain a man's life."
Title: Re: Scrooby's Musings
Post by: WorldForgot on August 03, 2023, 10:22:35 PM
Quote from: Scrooby on July 07, 2023, 06:35:14 AM1:32:44
(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f2/98/3b/f2983bd6884e71180d309a098896c699.jpg)
(Is this the Dolly Zoom of longest duration in the history of Hollywood cinema?) The shot is 1:31:40-1:34:58.



Per HACKANUT, this dolly zoom has been compared to Inherent Vice's Coy Harligan in Topanga Canyon dolly zoom. Inherent Vice's iz longer.

"59:18 to 1:03:48... 4 and a half minutes "