littlecourseofhorrors

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Treasury: Fox Theatre Hamilton (live, 2024)

This is, obviously, not a horror film breakdown. But I want some place to memorialize this…so 🗣️

I was graced by the live presence of the recent touring cast of the Hamilton production…..here is my professional analysis. Or just some nonsense ramblings about my slight ten year hyper-fixation. Either one.

This is the second (2) time I have seen this show (live), and this experience was so much more enjoyable than the first. Not to say my first viewing of Hamilton was anything to sneeze at, but I hadn’t been all that impressed by the performances of Eliza and Washington. This time around, Eliza had been better for me- especially in the second act when we got around to Burn. I held out hope that the overly youthful cheery glow from the first act would dissipate. Not because it wasnt a thrill to see Eliza happy, but i hoped it wasn’t the only way she’d be represented while depicting the transition of time. And baby girl did her thing! The actress was great at presenting a young girl falling in love only to evolve into a woman with a family and issues that truly impact generations to come. She ate that: 7/10

Amazing Angelica!!!! From the very beginning, this actress came up and showed out with her vocals. A big part of this performance-the show as a whole- is that not a single person wasted time trying to recreate whats been done before. Every moment felt like a story was being told, not just sung. And even if there is something that cannot be outdone by the original Broadway cast- these babies (grown folk) did exactly what they had to do. Ate that up: 11/10

Would have loved to fuck Burr’s voice?? Like seriously, the man could sing and improvise like hell. Would have liked to see more emotion given in the room where it happens, but on a whole, he wasn’t anything short of stellar. Ate that up: 8/10 (yeah yeah the rating is literally less than stellar)

Lafayette is actually funny- funny as hell. As in, i know a performer and former church choir kid when i see one. I wasn’t the biggest fan of his voice at first, but as Lafayette in Guns and Ships? Now that singular song should get album of the year. In the second act, he really got to play around with his role as Jefferson, and i loved every second of it. Something about the hehe/haha energy he had with it ….does glorious things to me. Ate that up: 9/10

George Washington was played by the same actor as last time…which i held out hope that after 3 years since the last time I saw him, I would have some good notes on him. And he did do a lot better! Right up until one last time, where he started off well, lost me with his version of emotional singing, and brought it back in the end. Ate that up: 7.3/10

King George was questionable for a minute there, but he was funny as hell and really played the part in a way that i hope King George III would fucking hate💕 He was very animated, and upheld the title of one of the best spots in the show, even if i wasn’t the biggest fan of his singing every time he was on stage. Ate that up: 9/10

It’s utterly hilarious to me that i have no notes on the main man of the show himself…but i assume I gotta add him and say a little somethin’ about him. The actor was fantastic! Bald man in a wig will always win. His voice and tone was very on spot for the manic, mad scientist energy that Hamilton starts to exude. Definitely made hamilton a bit more relatable…a bit. Ate that up: 9.5/10

Mariah/ Peggy was pretty good, although i was quite confused as to why there was an understudy performing unannounced. Would have loved to see the full main cast. But making out with HamMan during say no to this? Wild. Ate that up: 8/10

Philip!!! 🥰 really dont have a lot of notes on this role. the actor was featured in the program with a full expose about how he came into this part for Philip/laurens. Was a pretty good performance! I loved him more as philip, especially when he ran off stage as a 9 year old definitely would. But his death as laurens was also quite moving…all in all, he did that! Ate that up: 8.7/10

Last remarks on this show…cant wait to see this again. The spoken word was such a different approach for me! Given that this show is a full musical- which many were not a fan of when it first dropped- i still appreciated how the actors delivered the lines to tell a story through more than just song every once in a while. Costumes were still fantastic, i fucking loved the lighting direction (this may just be due to the fact that i had balcony seating this time and could see more of the show), and the ensemble really came through- as always. Final, overall ate that up: 9.3/10

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Finale: Black Mirror- Black Museum (2017) & Watchmen (2019)

This week, we viewed another Black Mirror episode, Black Museum (2017), and the first episode of Watchmen(2019). Both featured some form of a dystopian society, giving way to a more modern account of horror. According to Robin Wood, there are several main characteristics of the American horror genre. Typically,  the antagonist, or the ‘monster’, can be depicted as something purely evil. You then have some kind of theological representation, which can come up as some kind of tie to Christianity. We also can incorporate confusion of a type of repressed sexuality and the presentation of the monster as something non-human. The episodes we watched featured a few of these. Watchmen had their own play on the KKK, which in and of itself has some tie to theological manifestation. The monster in that episode had nothing going for them other than taking out the police and Black people, but Black Museum’s portrayal of a monster went in a different direction. We saw what Haynes did to Nish’s father, but he was still viewed as the Other to the people who came to see him, with his holographic embodiment of something they consider evil.

Any monster, whether in the literal or representative state, is considered to be comprised of fears like feminism, homosexuality, or any other type of otherness. Wood explored this as surplus repression, and it's something we see in many other films we’ve watched through the semester. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) gives off the same fears as this week's episodes through the idea and reality of constantly being watched and targeted. This brings us to other modern-day fears that echo that of the 1950’s America, and even that of following decades of issues that came with both new and similar fears. Having Abar as the lead character, a black woman tackling a pretty much systematic and societal war, is akin to films like V for Vendetta (2005) and The Hunger Games (2012). Her being one of the few female protagonists we have watched also stems from the fears relating to feminism and the role that women play that contrasted in Rebel Without a Cause (1955) and Bonnie and Clyde (1967). How Nish and Abar are represented in these episodes are important, because the shows they reside in kind of push the cultural anxieties of the past decades back into our face. Wood’s definition of Other is not set in the way horror is used to. Our understanding of patriarchal capitalism is not the goal nor is it really achieved in its display in these episodes. Nish is not completely the episode's victim like I thought she would be and Abar handles defending her home and herself with a confidence we haven’t really seen in our viewings. I assume it helps that universes were created to place these characters in, but it's not as unstated as shows like The Twilight Zone (1959) had to be, what with its disguising of current issues in science fiction settings.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Memory: Black Mirror - The Entire History of You (2011)

In Black Mirror’s third episode, The Entire History of You (2011), we follow another glass house piece of technology, this time it’s akin to Google cloud for access to every memory you’ve ever had at any time you want. I considered whether or not things would be different if replaying your memories was a solely intrapersonal experience, maybe a tool to aid in dangerous situations, education, general mishaps, or fond recollection. But so is not the case, and as ‘The Guardian’ says it, we live between delight and discomfort when it comes to technology. We’ve come to rely on and obsess over it to the point where we don’t often question how invasive it can be. Themes of trust and surveillance in this episode are observant between us and technology and between us and other people. Becoming comfortable with things like this forgo the issue of privacy, which is something we see from the very beginning when Liam and Fi’s friends want to dissect Liam’s interview. The episode is constantly teetering between grains providing a sense of security to it encouraging paranoia. If the government isn’t watching you, then you and your friend and your family most certainly are. Besides that, everyone with grains is bound to past people and events that distract from the present state of being, and from the beginning, it’s kind of overbearing. This episode shows that this kind of open technology doesn’t solve all the human problems one thinks it would.

I believe that The Entire History of You relates to films we’ve watched like The Manchurian Candidate (1962), The Hunger Games (2013), and The Skin I Live In (2011) because there is no straying away from being seen for these characters in the environments they find themselves in. It’s in every part of Katniss is being scrutinized both in and out of the arena, and in Robert’s motives, dynamic, and false sense of security with Vera. It’s in Raymond and even his comrades essentially not being of their own agency with Mother America. Even though it was a little more political and manipulative for those films, the same still rings close with Black Mirror. The scene where Hallam is being questioned about her decision to go without grains is reflective of choice being taken away from a person, especially if that person is a woman. We see this in what Vera has to endure during her change and her escape and in the sacrifices and decisions that Katniss has to make to survive. We could even relate The Entire History of You to GATTACA (1997), and the fears of technology and the basics of being human. GATTACA explicitly denotes the advantages of being in a position of ability or power, examining a type of classism that has little to do with money. It’s more of an implicit consideration for BM, but it’s interesting what grains mean for people without them like Hallam. Is classism still based on economic standards? Not having it is obviously still kind of frowned upon when you choose to do so, but it begs to question if going without is equivalent to just not having an updated phone, or choosing to not reproduce, or something more uncontrollable like one's financial means.  

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Fangs: Twilight (2008)

There are a number of social and cultural fears that one can pull from Twilight (2008), and it has a lot to do with the topic of immortality. With the vampire, figures like Edward and his family have the ability to do so many things with nothing really in place to stop them besides their moral obligations. Historically, vampires symbolize conflicting attitudes about sex, race, and mortality. We see all of these issues play out in the film Twilight, and even more so in the way the author portrays and describes these specific characters through the books and succeeding films. We have pretty much evolved from the staple vampire figures of Dracula or Graf Orlok, where we now focus on sexual ties rather than that of religion. Werewolves have evolved in a way too, forming from the idea that they are beings who are uncontrollable and savage, giving into primal instincts. Many have related the metamorphosis of the werewolf to the female hormonal cycle, thus bringing us back to fears and myths tied up in misogyny. Both werewolves and vampires alike, however, can represent fears related to sex, being desires, sexuality, or abstinence. 

Bella’s actions and the choices she makes are constantly in question. If one were to take a feminist reading of Twilight to attempt to saddle her character as one outside of the typical stereotypes of women, you could drive home how direct she can be in the various times she sticks to her beliefs and choices. Even if there are issues in and of itself with this, she’s pretty much independent even though Charlie is there, and she’s not falling over the boys at her new school when they approach her. She stands up to Edward whenever dismisses her, and despite her moments, she has a diverse friend group that accepts her as not being a stereotypical ‘feminine’ protagonist. But then even these choices get called into question because of how strong her connection is with Edward and her introduction to vampirism. I find it akin to how it’s unethical for therapists to sleep with or date their patients, as this would lead to a perpetual imbalance of power that doesn’t bode well with the kind of skill, information, and chances for manipulation that the therapist has. Mirroring that, Bella is so obsessed with Edward- to the point where she’s missing school, neglecting her friends, or putting herself and others in danger- that it kind of makes it hard for her decisions to not be biased towards whatever keeps her tied to him, even as independent as these choices may seem. And not to mention, Bella is already considered weak because she’s human, let alone a woman, in a world where strength, aggression, and ability seem to be everywhere. So sure, there can be a feminist reading of Twilight (people still refer to Bella as one to have ‘girl power’), but I don’t think it would be easy to hold that view. 

I think the appeal of ‘dark romance’ fiction is quite heavily in its supernatural elements. We previously mentioned how this kind of target audience is attracted to shifts in powerlessness and power. But given films like this, there is more powerlessness in our female lead for at least the first half of the entire saga. Dark romance kind of strives on a relationship being affected by something that’s brought main characters together, usually because of powers or forces that be. In Twilight, Edward can‘t read Bella, who apparently has irresistible blood, which makes her all the more interesting to him. Bella is essentially a damsel in distress, which comes back to her status as a human. Franiuk and Scherr mentioned how the lines are blurred when it comes to vampires in contemporary fiction, when their love for the main character is tied to their need to kill them. Vulnerability must work for this genre because it gives a dynamic to play off of. The relationship between vampire and human is already taboo, so they’ve kind of isolated themselves to need each other and their lives might even just depend on it. Jacob and Edward’s interactions boil down to what's best for Bella and her safety, because one thinks the other is dangerous, and even Edward is aware that him even being around her puts her at risk of death in one way or another. Putting the female character in a position that demands her to be ‘saved’ in a way she can’t possibly do herself pulls an audience in, especially when that angle pretty much drives the plot.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Body: The Skin I Live In (2011)

Pedro Almodóvar’s The Skin I Live In (2011) takes a notably heavy approach to how the female body is portrayed and ‘looked at’ throughout the film. We see a number of women who are used to convey this, not just our main character, Vera. Through Berger’s work, I understand how women being ‘looked at’ is seen from both an outward and inward perspective. He talks about the social presence of a man and what that means for him, but also that of a woman and how she exists to express herself in so many more ways than a man does, and is aware of that at all times. These points remind me of Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze, both of which seem to be everywhere in TSILI. It’s in Robert witnessing the garden of teenagers in the midst of hookups, in Vera’s every scene with and without the skinsuit, and in the flashback story of Gal when she recovers from the accident. 

Berger also mentioned how a woman appears and sees herself through the lens of a male, as a surveyed female. He then offers a timeline of painting and examples of women through history and how they have been portrayed from the days of Eve. Skin, as we understand it, relates to other surfaces like paintings, clothes, and walls, is just another thing to be constructed and redesigned. I had never considered how we observe others to be so harrowingly connected to the base level of skin in the way TSILI goes about it. It’s in the art that fills the walls of Robert's home, the way he watches Vera through several monitors and the large screen he mimics her positions in front of. Skin is just another representation of this appearance women are aware of at all times, it is reimagined, quite explicitly, to fit a constantly subjective point of view.

Speaking of explicit, TSILI displays excess in a way that caters to a kind of horror that I had not considered. When we discuss excess, we understand it to be consistently related to bodies, pleasure, and violence through horror, melodrama, pornography, etc. TSILI kind of blurs the types of excess we’ve mentioned, shifting from emotional to pain to pleasure to violence in exaggerated ways, all of it almost always occurring to or coming from a female body. Even the premise itself, of ‘creating’ a woman in such an explicit way, warrants the reactions borne from excess and follows the lead of film bodies that make women the object of each area. We also questioned how we measure cinematic excess, and I don’t believe that there’s a true cap to its measurement but a good qualitative assessment of whether or not the type of excess has achieved its desired reaction.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Gaze: Cracks (2009) & Carrie (1976)

Male directors seem to develop characters on screens that play more to stereotypes and expectations. There are some distinctive differences of this between Carrie (1976) and Cracks (2009). Even having seen parts of Carrie before, I could see how things kind of played out from familiar tropes I see a lot in horror and especially male directors. Even though both films focused on this kind of otherness through female leads, I felt like Scott toyed with it a lot more than Da Palma did. Granted, Carrie is originally a novel written by King that I haven’t read, which may have yielded less leniency in the direction of the film. But really, both films were centered in an environment but have different approaches to the way these characters think and act. We don’t really get much from Mrs. Collins or Carrie and her mother, but Ms. G and the girls are kind of built more on narrative and interaction. Aside from that, is it possible that the male fantasy cannot sustain anything more than female adolescence being described as ‘other’ or ‘monstrous’? We see how even the things about Carrie that aren’t supernatural are kind of horrific, like when she gets her first period in the locker room or literally any time her mother has to address her coming into adulthood. In Cracks, we’re exposed to a different kind of horror, more so found in Ms. G’s power of manipulation and the odd relationships between her, Di, Fiamma, and the other girls who pretty much aided and abetted the dynamic.

I don’t really find killer girls to be the new and improved version of the ‘cool girl’. Watching films like Breathless and Bonnie and Clyde, the female leads kind of held their own with a sort of aloofness and rash independence that defined itself through the plot. The character of killer girls doesn’t really have that. There’s always some tragic or victimizing backstory or their motives are tied to males either on or off screen. Nowadays, the films that come to mind are Jennifer’s Body, Suicide Squad, and Kill Bill Vol. 1. Maybe today’s ‘cool girls’ are seen in movies like Heathers or Clueless or Transformers. But with this new idea of the cool girl, they are never really embellished to be anything more than that, remaining confined as a stereotype, side character, or just someone there for visual appeal.

I think these kinds of characters now rather than back in the 60’s differ a lot more in whether or not they were developed by male or female directors. Even though directors back then were typically male, we could often see the variation in how women are portrayed. An example of this comparison in directors now is the difference in character makeup for live action Harley Quinn. When her character is directed by a male, she’s a killer whose sole purpose and narrative is to stand by the man who made her the way she is. She is an object of the male gaze from the clothes she wears, to the way she walks ,and to the tone of her voice. In Yan’s rendition of her character, Harley is more of a villain in her own right and isn’t brought up to be brought down abruptly. I think most monstrous or killer girl characters have to fight for that, and while Ms. G was more fleshed out, Carrie didn’t really get that build up.

And speaking of male gaze, Mulvey explains her theory of it in different terms that fits well with one too many pieces of cinema. She kind of breaks down the characters of the male and female protagonists and how vast differences between their portrayals on screen. To aid this male gaze, she mentions how direct camera work usually is. Typically, film is consistent with women being a hindrance to a narrative because of the spectacle that is her visual presence, her very being is meant to attract and distract either the spectator or the male protagonist. Because of this, camera work tends to yield to these perspectives, the bearer of the look, as is evident in the scene from Carrie where Ms. Collins has the group of girls workout for detention. During one exercise, we are met with a close up of Collins from the thighs down, even when the shot felt so out of place and didn’t really capture what the girls were doing like the other shots did. Mulvey’s theory explains the male gaze appearing in various ways besides this too, where the protagonist and the spectators' views are either one in the same or separated, further changing the role of women in film.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Districts: The Hunger Games (2012)

After watching The Hunger Games (2012) for the nth time and still getting emotional over it, I can see how we still can’t let the YA disaster/post apocalyptic fiction go. It’s like we thrive on seeing adrenaline building scenarios of a future that could be ours but isn't. Kavadlo explains the shift from fantasy worlds to dystopian societies, and she breaks it down to The New Dystopia existing in worlds where adults are never seen and teens must live and fight past the existence of a world that’s all they’ve ever known. And that’s kind of the same for young adults in the 21-century as well. Riding on the curtails of Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hunger Games, Maze Runner, and other dark fantasy-esque series kind of flooded the market to become this genre all on its own that young adults could relate to, mostly post 9/11.

There are a number of fears we have discussed that are present in The Hunger Games, namely dystopian settings, political usage of food, and millennial youth. Throughout the entire series, the way the government moves to control people in the districts is through means of food and basic necessities. We see how attempting to feed yourself and your family can come at the cost of subjecting yourself to a high chance of being called for the Games. And when Peeta and Katniss are at the Presidential party being offered more food than they could possibly eat, Peeta is disgusted by people purposely throwing up just to fill themselves with more food when people in the districts are starving. The dystopian narrative surrounds this from The Capitol outwards, with the first few districts actually training in eager preparation for the Games while the other districts just try to get by with meager means of living. Oftentimes, districts are giving up their young children just to watch them die in the Games. And come to think of it, in some ways, it almost reminds me of The Giver. From this façade of peace, forgiveness, and bravery, President Snow once said that people are easily controlled by fear and a little hope, but too much hope can mean the loss of control. 

I think in some ways The Hunger Games both endorses and critiques consumption culture, because of how The Capitol is representative of accumulation, excess, and greed. Many of those not fooled by it are aware of how unsettling it is. But in turn, it portrays how Western consumption culture hasn’t exactly reached such a point, as if our own consumption is well off and distant from the level portrayed in the film. Its exaggeration is indicative of what we are and aren’t at the same time. Sure, no one is directly herded into isolated areas to suffer together and blatantly watch with irony as the upper class gorge themselves at our expense, but we very much so have our own versions of this picture.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Virus: Contagion (2011)

This week’s film is Contagion (2011) and like a number of other well-known films, it relates to the cyclical situation we find ourselves in today. Throughout the movie, we see the different themes that covey fears like disease, terrorism, and foreignness. Contagion speculates that the virus that plagues them begins with Beth after a trip to Hong Kong and spreads from her interactions with people in Chicago and Wisconsin. We witness different outlooks on this virus from individuals we can identify with, from the perspective of a different country, and from the political and scientific front. Now typically, we welcome the new age of technology and connections we have with people and places all over the world. But these positive aspects of globalization are also the same reason we have issues with security and general fears of epidemics when outbreaks like this happen. 

Westernization has long since considered developed countries as more of a priority and essentially ‘cleaner’ than that of developing countries, and in turn strives to keep those notions upheld. Its like when the village decided to take Dr. Leonora hostage- they were deemed less important when distributing vaccines and information. It’s also worth noting how while they tried to figure out ground zero for the virus and ways to stop it, the film didn’t exactly point fingers toward a specific country, and instead it showed how America folded in on itself. We see the effects of medical policing and what happens when borders are drawn between status and socioeconomic classes.

This sense of nationalism and terrorism get kind of blurred when public safety is put highly at risk. It’s like when Dr. Leonora is told that hostages are the least of the government's worries, but people are killing and looting and rioting in the stays just to stay alive. It’s no longer a matter of who has the money or the insurance to cover treatment, and even more so it’s not based on who is sick and who isn’t. And this growing market of trade, technology, and communication we seem to thrive on is halted, and instead, it’s seen as a negative factor that contributes to the problem. No one really gets a pass, developed country or not, which is kind of what we saw in our own reality of handling people and treating a virus.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Borders: Sin Nombre (2009)

Obviously, our understanding of ‘native’ is rooted in nationality and boundaries, And Sin Nombre (2009) illustrates this in numerous ways, both literal and figurative, though initiations and geographical lines. When it comes to the US, however, being born on American soil typically holds a lot of weight, which is why we often see children being taken away from their parents for the sole reason of those kids being born in America and their parents were not. And even then, if you are a ‘rightful’ citizen, you may still be considered foreign because of your background and the way that you look. In a country practically made up of immigrants, being one can always feel like walking a thin line. There are many specific and arbitrary rules, both official and unofficial, that determine what it takes to be a citizen and what it takes to keep that status. Many of it deals with having something to give as some kind of ticket in, as if the journey isn’t already difficult enough, be it time, labour, or ideas. In Sin Nombre, I think this is something Sayra will battle with as she grows to deal with what she has lost to make it to her new family.

I find that Sin Nombre can be seen as both a Third Cinema film as well as a Hollywood film. The way Carter describes it, the movie has characteristics of both. He explains the way that Third Cinema has shifted from its origin as a documenting mass political movements, which aren’t as common as they used to be. Sin Nombre, while it displays a story through ‘real’ location based settings and non-famous actors and everyday people, doesn’t exactly keep to a kind of honesty that is needed to conform itself to Third Cinema. We get a body of work that portrays people in impoverished regions building depth to their stories and character, but all in all it leans to western ideas of gangsters through Casper and Smiley’s interactions with their ‘brothers’ and a narrative structure that is often found in Hollywood films.

Finally, we come to the role that Sayra plays in Sin Nombre. The entire film is somewhat split in two between Casper’s story and hers until they meet later on down the road, and then never really far behind her family. Given the visual of her journey, she is never really depicted completely as a damsel in distress or a love interest. Casper’s girlfriend can fit that bill quite nicely, because that’s all we really see from her amidst her interactions with him and the rest of Mara Salvatrucha. From what we have seen of female protagonists, Sayra could be considered more on par with our male protagonists, being that she has more of a story and characteristics aligning outside of the general female role.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in Genetics: GATTACA (1997)

This week’s discussion is on GATTACA (1997) by Andrew Nicchol, and I found there to be a lot to unpack given the time we live in now and the time this film reflects on. We know that today, there is an obvious need for some realm of perfection, and most of that resides in who we are as people. The need to change who and what we are, even down to our DNA, isn’t really that far fetched from the concepts found in GATTACA.

Throughout the film, we see the costs of striving for genetic perfection. People are dwindled down to little more than their genetic makeup, and are divided socially by factors that we don’t really consider now. Even those who are considered to be the perfect man or woman are still somehow lacking in ways that they don’t really understand anymore. From this, we can explore eugenics and the role human directed engineering plays in GATTACA. The whole film, as well as the title, never fails to show us what we are at the very base, and expresses the importance of these very first steps. Through their version of human directed evolution, people are truly ‘created’, starting from their hair, eyes, and height to their personality, possible ailments, and eventual lifespan. The article from Scientific American explains the issue with seeing people, and especially children, as a means to a biological end. Relying on someone to serve as something other or more than just a human being, flaws and all, can cause more trouble than it’s worth. So when SA talks about parents having children just for their biologicals makeup, we know that’s not where it ends. The article poses questions about the damage that does mentally and the revelations that come with treatments that just don’t work out. In the film, Vincent’s parents essentially had a second child that was meant to be better than him in every way. And even though he developed his own sense of self from it, it still plagued him to be ‘less than’ in a society that rejected him.

Although the goal was perfect physical health inside and out, there’s still evidence of GATTACA forming a dystopia through warring mental states and the blatant discrimination. There’s this need for everyone to be wiped of true diversity and a sense of individualization, because even if someone thinks for themselves it’s not going to be acted upon. And I find that the scene where Vincent and Irene get checked in a tunnel for some kind of DNA verification shows this best. Vincent having to prove himself for the police and then seeing 'in-valids’ shaken down for identification tells of just how excluded people like him are amongst the ‘valid’ and are kept down and out just for not being a part of the elite groups of society. Even Jerome, who was basically the face of masculinity, is now somehow less of a man just because he can no longer walk. Kirby’s paper talks about the issues with this, how the bioethical issues only increase when we play with the idea of creating more completely flawless versions of ourselves. Our concepts of self-betterment, individualism, family, and romance are contingent on something close to eugenics, but I don’t believe it to be something that’s completely uniform in the way that GATTACA portrays it. I mainly think of films like smart house, pixel perfect, about half of marvel movies, and generally other films where people usually end up growing past perfect or altered genetics.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Flames: V for Vendetta

After viewing V for Vendetta (2005), I was left with a lot to think about, especially in relation to its original comic. I don't find that one connects seamlessly to the other and I'd like to think of the two as separate entities for the sake not confusing myself. To start, the concept of villains, victims, and heroes, is constantly toyed with. Some victims are easier to identify, the casualties that came from St. Mary's, and really anyone that is already dead but still moving with the plot in some way. Maybe it's the people who find themselves living cautiously because of their government. Villains are trickier, because we know what we'd like to say, that the bad guys are the ones encased in a dark room, the Big Brother type enabling some kind of fascist regime, the ones causing harm. But then the same could be said of V, who for all intent and purposes, is our protagonist, the one intent on stopping the big bad.

It's not like he's saving people besides Evey, which comes off like a one time fluke. He's not just taking the villains down and proclaiming himself a hero to do right by the people. As in the title, this is personal for him, and getting citizens to take back their government is just a phase in that plan. This brings me to the issue of labeling this as something of a dystopian and apocalyptic film. I think it's a pretty blatant dystopian film based on the use of secret police, curfews, and strict government regulation. It is defined as conflict being established through the oppression of a government and one rebelling against the status quo. We definitely see that through Sutler and V's opposition of his leadership. Apocalyptic also fits, because in some ways, V For Vendetta is telling a story of the end of the world. The American war is infiltrating the country, and we've already seen the continuous results of a disease outbreak and the cover-up that followed.

Identifying the main threat in the film really does depend on your perspective and what you identify with. One could say that the threat lies solely in terrorism and V's actions to take down a government instead of going through proper channels, possibly destroying this psuedo-democracy. Maybe it's the wayward masked rebellion for a single party. It also could very well be the fascist authority that holds a tight grip on Britain's citizens. I'd like to think that the elements of terrorism, rebellion, corrupt newscasting, disease, etc., are all brought on by the catalyst of the illicit government. In the adaptation, everything is caused by Sutler's covert project with St. Mary, which leads to him rising in power, the fire, being hunted by V, the untrustworthy news, V burning down buildings hosting political power, and all the issues in between. And though the regime is my view of the main theme, I understand that others may have other takes based on their alignments. The quote about the film's political content reflects this, because I don't believe I agree one way or another. From an outside perspective, this film is reminiscent of many other movies, as well as other books and shows and such. You could consider it a mirror, a reflection of one's current state and perception of the world. I can't find fault in the chairman of the Christian Film and Television Commission seeing what he does. If one were to read or watch any similar Big Brother-esque fiction, the same conclusions could most likely be drawn. Just because I don't wholly see it that way, doesn't mean it's not what people like Ted Baehr interpret.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Revolution: Memories of Underdevelopment

This week, we follow the character Sergio in Tomás Gutiérrez Alea's Memories of Underdevelopment (1968). Pronouncing himself as a intellectual, Sergio stays behind as his family leaves the country and the movements of Cuba after the revolution. We are repetitively exposed to the somewhat high profile lifestyle our main character leads, from the well-furnished housing to the busy production career. Despite this, we see our main fears at play through the broad themes of the film. For all his judgemental inspection of the people in his country, Sergio fights prolonged alienation from the realities of then-contemporary Cuba. Between Sergio's daily narrative and his flashbacks/the second story of the state of Cuban society, we get a better understanding of the revolution and Sergio's struggle to keep himself away from it.

Frequently, Sergio mentions how he finds the women around him intellectually and culturally underdeveloped, and he muses more about this and how it affects him the more he meets with Elena. This drives his alienation deeper, as he fails to really connect with women, loses touch with his career, and criticizes the members of his own social class. From here, this leaves him caught in the middle of not wanting to be associated with the bourgeoise and not moving to action with the rest of the 'underdeveloped' society for the revolution. To top it off, this perspective, and essentially the overarching theme of Memories of Underdevelopment, is representative of what it means to be a part of Third World Cinema. In the scene where we view the round tables discussion on literature and underdevelopment, the panel talks about quotes depicting Latin Americans, the American Dream, and the context of the word 'underdevelopment'. Here, it is pretty blatant that the realities of political and social turmoil in the film are not being sugar-coated, and the whimsical (or in other words, capitalistic) front in First World cinema is not a point of interest.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Illusion: The Manchurian Candidate

There’s a to digest and unpack in Frankenheimer’s 1962 thriller,The Manchurian Candidate. I’d like to start with the mastermind that is Raymond’s mother. Compared to our other viewings that have challenged and toyed with the depiction of women in film over a couple decades, this film took a fast and Sharp turn with Eleanor Shaw. If anything, she could be more akin to Jim Stark’s mother in RwC who we often saw running the household in a way that displaced her husband. I kind of saw is as a new balance of ‘power’, where in RwC it was Frank Stark’s character and actions that were highlighted instead of his wife and in The Manchurian Candidate its Eleanor’s instead of Iselin. Here, Eleanor’s role as ‘the security mom’ is pretty much our concepts of ‘big brother’ but a bit more cut-throat.

I think the visual of the security mom tells a lot about the types of insecurities of the 1960′s. Mothers in general are associated with a safe space, and TMC shows how finicky even that can be. The kind of paranoia from the Cold War era is apparent in TMC by the way that no one can really trust their own minds, and evidently the people around them. Family, friends, loved ones, homes, jobs, an entire being can always be wrongly perceived, even if only slightly. For example, the soldiers that were POW were living fine after returning, until their recurring nightmares were revelaed to be memories. To add to the uneasiness, Raymond is never certain of his actions up until he shoots his mother and step-father, he couldn’t trust his mother or his comrades who didn’t think much of him, and inevitably, his wife couldn’t trust him.

Part of the repetitive theme for TMC was Raymond’s pronounced sexual repression. He’s kind of an odd character off the bat, with him being the most rigid personality among his comrades in the beginning scenes. And even when he does acquire a ‘love interest’, it’s not even really his choice to marry Jocelyn, whom, I might add, is literally killed off a few scenes later. Raymond’s whole nature seems to follow this idea of being a soldier first and man second, even to his mother. He’s a code to crack for the whole film. In the reading by Kevin Ohi, he pointed out that even though Jocelyn doesn’t want to acknowledge it, she must think that whatever is ‘wrong’ with him can be somehow cured by a stint of heterosexuality. There many moments that tussle with masculinity, and oftentimes read as though homosexuality and the implication of it is caused by your mind being messed with. The Manchurian Candidate shows us obviously unstable relationships people had at the time, and he game of always looking over your shoulder and being wary and on edge hasn’t rally gone anywhere either. Present today relations aren’t really better after so many years of increasing and interconnected incidents affecting our political and social state post the 1960′s, it’s just become easier to mask.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in The Getaway Drivers: Breathless & Bonnie and Clyde

This week’s journal review is criminal, but only because Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (1960) seem to start the wave of anti-hero characters that leave one mighty conflicted. Godard’s debut film Breathless really had me intrigued by Jean Seberg’s character, Patricia. Her relationship with Michel had me falling for the girl-next-door-with-an-edge persona, and after some time of viewing the merry-go-round of choices throughout the film from varying discussions on love and grief, the constant narrow evasion of the police, calling the investigator, etc., I started thinking about the little pieces that make up the general ‘“the cool girl”. Patricia is very non-flippant about a lot of the things that happen around her, whether it be murder, sex, or love. Her somewhat androgynous style and look add to this coy outlook on the situations she finds herself in. 

Moullet mentioned Patricia as a less sympathetic personality, which I think may come from her being a more independent character than that of her 1950’s predecessor. Bonnie in Bonnie and Clyde comes off this way too, from the way she treats Blanche, to her interactions with Clyde. These kind of strong will opinionated characters feel like the stepping stones to female characters being fleshed out in a different direction than they have been. More subtle characters like Judy from Rebel Without a Cause wouldn’t be taking on adventures like Bonnie and Patricia anyway, so maybe new free-form escapades call for new approaches to the female protagonist. 

In Breathless, it crossed my mind that these kinds of haphazard scenes and actions and thoughts are meant to reflect the on-goings of real people. You don't tend to see such fragility in modern characters, and it becomes more apparent when you look at Michel too. Even though he is played out as this cheeky, witty, quick on his feet protagonist, he seems a bit lost in the midst of his devil-may-care attitude. The prickly situations he finds himself in only happen because someone placed a gun in his line of sight and when he walks down Champs-Élysée and sees a poster and pictures of Humphrey Bogart, his obvious fascination reminds me of when little kids emulate their favorite superhero.

The lack of assurance and moments of the facade slipping is apparent in Bonnie and Clyde as well. Clyde's idealistic words and charming swagger end up falling short the farther we follow the story. There aren’t any great bank heists, and he seems to become more comfortable with the The Barrow Gang the more Bonnie grows agitated with it. But what Bonnie, Clyde, and the gang lack in robberies, they make up for in violence. The first kill Clyde makes actually kind of startled me, partly because I didn’t think he’d actually follow through. A lot of the violence Penn portrays is either quick and striking or drawn out and messy. I’m not sure which is worse, but I can see how violence would become commonplace in film from here on out. While Bonnie and Clyde may have been born from Breathless, the criminal aspect is definitely upped a couple notches. 

Aside from violence, both films had kind of morbid endings that were in some way foreshadowed by the characters themselves. I think those specific endings were kind of fitting, mainly because the whole idea of the criminal duo plot wasn’t meant to go farther than that. If an audience watches films like these, it indulges in a sort of escapism. You get the romance, the melodrama, the action, the flighty moments, the lack of any sustaining responsibilities. That kind of freedom is attractive because they aren’t realistic. Maybe Bonnie and Clyde and Breathless are the triggers, but I can't recall a film with this theme that has ended with the pair successfully driving off into the sunset. For example, movies like Thelma and Louise (1991) and Baby Driver (2017) end as good as it’s going to get. And perhaps, films that head this route aim for redemption or allow consequences to finally catch up to prove some kind of impermanence for our characters on the run.

[littlecourseofhorrors]

Fear in the Fifties: Rebel Without a Cause

American society, just as much as any other, continuously inserts itself into the films it produces no matter the genre. It’s always transparent when given the right framework and Rebel Without a Cause is no different. The instances within RwC reflect the numerous domestic and national anxieties America withstood from the 1950s. At a glance, the contention lies in Jim Stark’s strife with himself and his family. The whole film kind of boils down to the sense of masculinity and the fragility of suburban living. Jim’s parents having to constantly move because he keeps ‘getting into trouble' was a red flag from the beginning that nods at the intolerant relationship between delinquency and the law of suburbia. 

There are so many things in RwC that try to remind us of the divide between teens and common living. I notice that a majority of the film happens at night after the agreement of chicken race, and wherever the teens happen to be, it’s usually outdoors in unconfined spaces. This sort of restlessness comes through when Jim asks Buzz why they have to race and he replies, “you gotta do something, now don’t you?”

Our introduction to Jim and his introspective masculinity battle begins when we meet his family, and off the bat we know Jim thinks his father really isn’t a man with his salt. In reality, the 1950′s were plagued with a steep shift between the roles of men and women. A woman was truly the do-it-all know-it-all both in an out of the house setting, becoming more visible in previously excluded spaces. From this view, of which Judy’s father seems to have, Judy is no longer seen as the innocent daddy’s girl she would have considered as in the ‘20′s. From there into that post World War II era, men were becoming less and less of a dominant figure. Because of these new times, Jim’s understanding of how a household is supposed to work according to the preceding years of the patriarchal paradigm is shaken. The new reality is that his father is home cleaning and cooking, wearing aprons, and is essentially a pushover at the will of his mother. This was represented a couple of times when Frank Stark was on his hands and knees to clean and again when Jim stood between his parents during his argument for truth, with the shot showing his mother above on the staircase and his father positioned beneath him.

Jim’s struggle for understanding the male ‘duty’ also extends to Plato and their fast growing relationship. It’s interesting how hostile Jim is with his father and yet so gentle with Plato when really, both relationships don’t really do much to clear up the confusion what masculinity is meant to be to him. The dynamics of their relationship and their friendship with Judy amounts to the makings of a found family, pushed on by the friction in each of their own home lives. In "Rebel Without a Cause and the Cold War Crisis in Masculinity" Mitchell mentions how the three of them actually playing family in the abandoned mansion gives Jim and Judy a new perspective of what their parents responsibilities and truths actually are. We are constantly shown how the meaning of ‘rebel’ unravels to mean more than just teens running rampant, and Jim’s interactions with found family gave him a few answers to his constant self questioning. 

After the fact, I see how Jim Stark is a character that a lot of people can relate to, then and now. I see the traits of his personality and situational attributes in many angsty novellas and media like, Riverdale, Heathers, or The Breakfast Club. I think that this character survived the way it has because even if the context of the social dilemmas have changed, the feeling and intent are still the same.