The Words of Wrath
While watching the movie yesterday, I found it interesting the amount of times literacy was referenced. Either directly, like whenever someone says that they can’t read, or indirectly, when Grandpa dies and the note they write to place with the body is poorly written and has numerous grammatical errors. In addition to the power of literacy, where those that are educated hold all the cards and those who are not are victims throughout the film – the use of writing and signs in general was interesting to me.
For example, when Tommy is fixing the note for Grandpa’s grave, the only thing he changes is “funeral” to “funerals” – implying that more deaths are on the way. The paper they all received that enticed them out west were all lies, the one that kicked them off their homeland was devious, but legal, and the multitude of “Stop:___” signs throughout the film began to wear on me. “50 cents a night, camp,” etc, because people were taking advantage of their fellow man in a time of depression.
But these points aside, it seemed to me that the enemy to the Joad family throughout the movie was the written word. It forced them off their land, led them out west, took their money, and was in the hands of the men that gave them jobs paying 5 cents a bucket – whenever it is present it is never positive. And this movie had positive moments, Ford was just certain not to include writing in any of the upbeat scenes, so you get the feel, or at least I did, that it is somewhat to blame for their predicament.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Gold Diggers of 1933 like a Shakespearian play?
**apologies for the tardiness, I’m quite sick that the moment and slept all of today, so I didn’t get to post until just now**
Gold Diggers of 1933 like a Shakespearian play?
As any decently versed reader of Shakespeare can tell you, his plays follow a fairly standardized plot pattern in that they either end with a mass wedding or a mass killing. Macbeth and Hamlet end with the main cast killing themselves off, whereas A Midsummernight’s Dream and Twelfth Night end with a mass wedding, where two or more couples get married. Throughout his (or her) comedies, Shakespeare’s couples were always at odds with one another. One couple is meant to be, the others convolute their relationship, they drift apart then reconcile, and a few others decide to jump on the band wagon and tie the knot
When boiled down, Gold Diggers of 1933 consists of three major couples: Polly and the younger Bradford, Carol and the older Bradford, and the humorous Trixie and Peabody pairing; and it follows the Shakespearian model flawlessly. Polly and the young Bradford are fated to be, and their love is unwavering throughout the film. Trixie and Peabody are a marriage of necessity – she “needs” money, he “needs” a younger woman – but they get married regardless. Then finally, there is Carol, who had been masquerading as Polly (ala Viola in Twelfth Night), who seems to have fallen for the older Bradford – who loves her back, “whatever your name is!”
These absurd pairings, aside from the focal love duo, are identical to Shakespeare’s plays that were wildly popular at the time and still draw fairly good crowds. As Gold Diggers of 1933, shows us, a good thing never goes out of style.
Gold Diggers of 1933 like a Shakespearian play?
As any decently versed reader of Shakespeare can tell you, his plays follow a fairly standardized plot pattern in that they either end with a mass wedding or a mass killing. Macbeth and Hamlet end with the main cast killing themselves off, whereas A Midsummernight’s Dream and Twelfth Night end with a mass wedding, where two or more couples get married. Throughout his (or her) comedies, Shakespeare’s couples were always at odds with one another. One couple is meant to be, the others convolute their relationship, they drift apart then reconcile, and a few others decide to jump on the band wagon and tie the knot
When boiled down, Gold Diggers of 1933 consists of three major couples: Polly and the younger Bradford, Carol and the older Bradford, and the humorous Trixie and Peabody pairing; and it follows the Shakespearian model flawlessly. Polly and the young Bradford are fated to be, and their love is unwavering throughout the film. Trixie and Peabody are a marriage of necessity – she “needs” money, he “needs” a younger woman – but they get married regardless. Then finally, there is Carol, who had been masquerading as Polly (ala Viola in Twelfth Night), who seems to have fallen for the older Bradford – who loves her back, “whatever your name is!”
These absurd pairings, aside from the focal love duo, are identical to Shakespeare’s plays that were wildly popular at the time and still draw fairly good crowds. As Gold Diggers of 1933, shows us, a good thing never goes out of style.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Nietzsche and the Cobbler, Germans brainwashing our pure white girls!!
Nietzsche and the Cobbler: German brainwashing?
“Face life as you find it, defiantly and unafraid! Waste no energy yearning for the moon! Crush out all sentiment,” reads Lily from the book that an old friend has sent her. The book is Thoughts Out of Season, the author: Friedrich Nietzsche. An interesting addition an otherwise traditional ‘fallen woman’ film is the presence of Nietzschean philosophy thought out Baby Face. Lily is kicked out of her old life from the promptings of a cobbler, Adolf Gragg, who speaks from Nietzsche’s writings as if they are scripture. The idea of raising one’s self up by their own bootstraps is something common in film, but for 1933, the idea of a woman doing it was likely frowned upon (judging by the severe editing and poor critical reception), and the method of doing it by “using men” to do it was out right blasphemy – hence the veneer of philosophy.
By having the prod out of a “socially acceptable situation” into a morally flawed and socially dangerous one be caused from the word of Nietzsche, spoken through a clear foreigner, it gave the message less credulity and, as was probably thought at the time, would reduce the risk of women emulating Stanwyck’s character. At its core, Nietzschean philosophy regarding its relationship to society openly admits to being “immoral” compared to moral stigmas of the world. He believed that rules and morals were appropriate for a society to function, they keep the lesser dregs in check – but for those that are exceptional, those like Lily, and should be given room to “play” with the law. “Become what you are,” Nietzsche wrote, the cobbler read…then told Lily.
“Face life as you find it, defiantly and unafraid! Waste no energy yearning for the moon! Crush out all sentiment,” reads Lily from the book that an old friend has sent her. The book is Thoughts Out of Season, the author: Friedrich Nietzsche. An interesting addition an otherwise traditional ‘fallen woman’ film is the presence of Nietzschean philosophy thought out Baby Face. Lily is kicked out of her old life from the promptings of a cobbler, Adolf Gragg, who speaks from Nietzsche’s writings as if they are scripture. The idea of raising one’s self up by their own bootstraps is something common in film, but for 1933, the idea of a woman doing it was likely frowned upon (judging by the severe editing and poor critical reception), and the method of doing it by “using men” to do it was out right blasphemy – hence the veneer of philosophy.
By having the prod out of a “socially acceptable situation” into a morally flawed and socially dangerous one be caused from the word of Nietzsche, spoken through a clear foreigner, it gave the message less credulity and, as was probably thought at the time, would reduce the risk of women emulating Stanwyck’s character. At its core, Nietzschean philosophy regarding its relationship to society openly admits to being “immoral” compared to moral stigmas of the world. He believed that rules and morals were appropriate for a society to function, they keep the lesser dregs in check – but for those that are exceptional, those like Lily, and should be given room to “play” with the law. “Become what you are,” Nietzsche wrote, the cobbler read…then told Lily.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Scarred Face of Comedy
In Scarface, we enter a world of violence, tragedy, corruption, death, and humor – one of these things is not like the other. Clearly the use of humor in the film was intentional, the placement of certain characters and actions makes this obvious; for example, when Tony and Guino get shot at in the diner, as his ‘secretary’ attempts to have a phone conversation while under a barrage of Tommy gun fire. The use of the secretary as a comedic foil to the gun battles, crime and murder is an interesting decision, why would they do this?
As we look further, we see that Tony himself is a comedic figure, looking like a child on Christmas day when talking about the new Tommy gun, exclaiming something along the lines of, “they make machine guns you can carry now!” Or when he’s let out of prison, gibing to Guino, “Nice little thug, he give ‘em a writ of hocus pocus,” referring to the writ of Habeus corpus. Compared to the other humor in Scarface, Tony’s is somewhat twofold.
Firstly, it serves as one of the pillars of his character. He’s a jovial, driven individual that’s on his way up – so you’d better be on board or out of his way. But it also is a subtle slap in the face to society. Sure, he’s clearly opposed to the law, we see this within sixty seconds of being introduced to Tony, when he strikes a match on the officer’s badge, but his bravado of jokes is a way of saying to everyone that, morally, he has no qualms with what he’s doing.
By giving us a “hero” that’s so comedic, and giving us a movie surprisingly equally full of violence and comedy, Scarface says, “criminals don’t see anything wrong in what they are doing, in fact, they’re laughing all the way to the gallows.”
As we look further, we see that Tony himself is a comedic figure, looking like a child on Christmas day when talking about the new Tommy gun, exclaiming something along the lines of, “they make machine guns you can carry now!” Or when he’s let out of prison, gibing to Guino, “Nice little thug, he give ‘em a writ of hocus pocus,” referring to the writ of Habeus corpus. Compared to the other humor in Scarface, Tony’s is somewhat twofold.
Firstly, it serves as one of the pillars of his character. He’s a jovial, driven individual that’s on his way up – so you’d better be on board or out of his way. But it also is a subtle slap in the face to society. Sure, he’s clearly opposed to the law, we see this within sixty seconds of being introduced to Tony, when he strikes a match on the officer’s badge, but his bravado of jokes is a way of saying to everyone that, morally, he has no qualms with what he’s doing.
By giving us a “hero” that’s so comedic, and giving us a movie surprisingly equally full of violence and comedy, Scarface says, “criminals don’t see anything wrong in what they are doing, in fact, they’re laughing all the way to the gallows.”
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