Wasted on the Wayside

Ladies and Gentlemen...the man, the myth, the legend: Orson Welles!

I'm sort of ashamed to admit that Touch of Evil is my first encounter with this genius. I know it shouldn't have taken me this long, but better late than never I suppose.

Roger Ebert has this 1958 quasi-classic on his Great Movies list, so I knew off the bat I had to fake liking it even if I despised it. Thankfully, it never came it that. Then again you guys wouldn't know the difference even if it did.

The film opens with that stinking (fine, striking) shot that no one seems to be able to stop talking about. It acts as the slam-bang-wow how many tries did that take-attention grabbing opening and I have to say it is damn impressive. Still, I'm gonna go ahead a skip it...we've heard it all. Shot's spectacular, enough said.

However, going off in that direction...the cinematography in this film in general is excellent. Welles does very cool things with lighting and seems to be constantly coming up with new and creative ways to prevent the camera from being stationary (that first shot being the perfect example...damn, now here I go talking about it.)

One interesting, less discussed shot is (and bare with me while I try to remember it) toward the end of the film - maybe already at the bridge. The camera sways back and forth (up and down, don't quote me) following some long wooden looking object as it makes rhythmic, see-saw type movements. Not sure why, maybe it was motion sickness or something, but I found it to be incredibly effective in creating a discomforting atmosphere in the last scene.

The lighting is tip-top, film noir fun. Swimming in shadows and drenched in darkness...just the way I like it.

Another thing that is frequently discussed with this film is what Welles does with race and stereotypes. This one I won't skip because I feel there's a good amount to discuss with what he does.

First of all, we have ammo enthusiast Charlton Heston in brown face - not even taking a stab at the Mexican dialect (he sticks to his guns I guess). That's good for a laugh no matter what the occasion. I know it seems kind of silly at first but it's actually brilliant when you start to analyze it.

All the other Mexicans in the film seem to perfectly embody what white people were afraid of about Mexicans in that era. Except of course Heston's character...Vargas. He is almost the opposite, far removed from of all of the stereotypes. He is the Mexican that does not fit the expectation.

But that Mexican doesn't actually exist...like literally. It's not a Mexican at all, it's Charlton Heston! So what is Welles saying, damnit?! I'm not sure exactly so I guess that means it's art or something like that. Just kidding I don't buy into all that snob mumbo-jumbo. But really, what he does with Heston alone is totally thought provoking and (whatever I'll say it) it's art.

Anyway, Welles the film maker has some game apparently, but what about Welles the writer or Welles the actor? Kind of sounds like a stuffed up Brando or something.

I thought he was incredibly natural at saying the dialogue (might of had something to do with the fact that he wrote the script) and it even sounded improvised at certain times it was so convincing. A powerhouse performance to be sure. But it was more than a powerhouse somehow, I felt like. It was almost like he was Police Captain Hank...like he wasn't even playing a part. Hmm...

I noticed that joke about how Hank got fat (told by his bartender- mistress-fortune-teller-lady) and looking at earlier photos of this guy, it seems like he might have been taking a shot at himself. I know it's to the character, but he's playing that character and Welles really did get frickin' fat.

I can't help but to think that maybe Welles was actually delving into his weaknesses as a human with his character (and a little less specifically) his script. Maybe he's not simply playing a part, but a part of himself. Maybe that's why he was so god damn good at it. When Hank hit a wall, he started drinking...that's basically what Welles did post-Evil.

I mentioned Ebert at the beginning (love the guy) and he talks about how there is a strange familiarity between Welles's character in the film and Welles in actuality. Ebert points to a different line of dialogue than I did, however it is still a line that is spoken by the bartender-mistress-fortune-teller-lady.

Hank asks her what his future will be like, to which she responds, "you haven't got any." Guess what Orson did after Touch of Evil? Nothing, got drunk and sat on some half written scripts and unedited footage. How much of himself did Welles put into this script? Could he have known how similarly things in his near future would be to the character he created? Man, that's weird.

I just saw the movie that one time so those are the only two quotes I got and one was Roger's, but I believe there is a lot of the real Welles in this film...whether or not it was intentional.
Think about it...the booze, the weight, the lines by the bartender-mistress-fortune-teller-lady. Ebert for god's sake, Roger Ebert, that should be enough.

Whatever, it's just interesting to think about. How much of an artists real self goes into their work...especially when the artist has such complete control of all aspects like Welles did in Evil. We looked at a painting by Adolf Hitler the other day in a different class...there were no people in it.

Rockin' Around the Clock with Beth McCoy

The first paragraph of the Beth McCoy reading talks a bunch about how Blackboard Jungle set the format for buddy cop flicks. So, going into the second paragraph, I was all like, "Okay, this reading is going to be pretty basic, you know, talk about Chris Tucker for a little bit, address some racial issues...get in, get out."




Then I read the second paragraph.

Then the third.

And all of a sudden, Beth starts getting into some pretty serious stuff and I start wishing I was into something a little bit lighter. Maybe watching "The Last Boyscout" or something.

Now, when I first walked out of our classroom after Blackboard Jungle, I was feeling pretty good. White guy becomes friends with the black guy, wife doesn't get all that pissed about the letters, the really naughty kids get the boot, and everyone learns a pretty valuable lesson. It's a feel good flick...makes ya feel good.

Then I start reading Beth's thoughts on Blackboard Jungle and all that shit goes right out the window. I mean, before I even start the second page she's convincing me that the only way that Miller and Dadier can develop "masculine sameness" is in the absence of Anne. So, I was all pumped that the black guy and the white guy got along, but I failed to notice that it was in the absence of the female character. So we can only have racial equality amongst males in the absence of women? Is that what she's saying? Or is that what she's saying the film is saying? Either way, I liked being ignorant to all this stuff better.

So, the film doesn't exactly have the best portrayal of women, but at least I can still say that it portrayed a multi-ethnic, troubled, youth in a somewhat positive light - achieving, and eventually behaving and all that good stuff. That's at least something to feel good about, right?

Beth says no again, and immediately in my head, I say to myself, "this lady is one tough cookie". Then I realize that thinking she's a "tough cookie" might in fact make me kind of sexist, because of the whole "women in the kitchen"thing. Then I start to feel kind of like a chauvinist or something, which is weird because I usually think the opposite. However, I eventually disregard the whole chauvinist thing when I realize I'll gladly do the cooking and kid-raising and laundry washing when I tie it up. Did Anne really apologize for getting pregnant? God, that made me mad. With my brains and her looks we could be onto something.

Anyway, I thought that the film at least showed this youth culture in a positive light by the end, despite all the nonsense throughout. Miller takes command and the majority of these kids choose to be good (to put that in the most overly simplified terms possible). But, I guess I was wrong about that too.

Beth says that those early scenes with the multi-ethnic, scary looking teens (were they behind bars of some sort?) portray them oddly, with focus on their "otherness" (notwhiteness). The cameras focus a lot on their skin, and later she states that the film seems to be saying something like "otherness" will become delinquency and destroy the common culture, unless it can be guided properly. She then states, "Otherness, Blackboard Jungle suggests, can be managed away from delinquency." Guess I can't feel good about that either...thanks Beth.

Well, at the very least, naughty multi-ethnic delinquents out of the picture, and women out of the picture, I can still say that the black dude and the white dude got along at the end and walked off in the sunset and all that good stuff and Beth won't have an issue with it.

Aghhh....

First, she says the the black guy in this film (and historically) becomes feminized, almost replacing the wife figure. That's no good. Then she talks about how everything in the film, everything about seeing colorblind and all the obvious racial shit going on in the film, is actually completely depended on the recognition of the different skin colors. This is a very sad thing to think about and it makes the racial fences in this country seem all the more difficult to climb.

Then, she drops the bomb about the "rock around the clock" ending, which (she was right) seems totally happy and lovey dovey to our generation. She said that it could be potentially interpreted as representative as the instability of the white/black relation in this country. I'm not sure if I entirely got that point, but whatever.

Overall, I liked this film, found it very entertaining (if that counts for anything anymore) and would highly recommend it. The reading (Beth's analysis) was, well, pretty in depth and eye-opening, if difficult to get through at times. I felt that some of her points were better supported than others, but overall I was impressed with her analysis of the film. She is one tough cookie.


















Hey, look...there's all white people on the cover. We're doing a little better, I think?