The Thing, Cixious and John Carpenter's The Thing

Two things I love: Kurt Russell. Kurt Russell kicking butt. So really, get down to it, I only love one thing, since Kurt Russell has two settings “kick butt” and “sleep.” Who am I kidding, Kurt Russell doesn’t sleep. They set him to “kick butt” and ripped off the knob.  As a kid, I must’ve watched Big Trouble in Little China and Escape From New York (also both John Carpenter films) a combined 500 times. Carpenter is, unlike Russell, hit or miss. The Thing was, as far as I’m concerned, one of his best. But we’re not here to swoon over Kurt Russell and his manly beard and flowing locks. Instead, we are here to talk about what makes him “masculine,” how masculinity operates in the film and more importantly where that puts femininity.

                But the film doesn’t feature any women, you say. Yeah, I heard you in the back, always groaning and complaining about my lame jokes. I’ve got my eye on you. Well, that is a good observation though….for a jerk. Well, Helene Cixous would argue with you. I bet a lot. She seems like she was an arguer. But we’ll get to her and her dirty mouth.

So, what does this film do with masculinity?

                First, let’s talk about Kurt Russell. I mean, come on, I wanted to BE Kurt Russell when I grew, yet I still grew up to be mild mannered Bob Gurnett and not eye-patch wearing Bobbito Pliskin. I still think its BS. More to the point though, Kurt Russell in this movie, along with his guns, flame-throwers, dynamite, ect, is a symbol of masculinity. Even the actor chosen for the role, at the time, was a symbol for all that is man. Cixous discusses what she describes as a male obsession with phallic objects. She says that man is “poised to keep glorious phallic monosexuality in view” (2047). She speaks of how men are uncomfortable – even militantly opposed – to female sexuality because it interferes with their need to hold the phallus as a sign of their power.  We see the very phallic flame-thrower as a sign of power when MacReady returns after being cut loose in the snow. He was the bearer of the flame-thrower, therefore he was the one giving out orders. This is also represented by the gun that Windows attempts to take from the case, the knife and scalpel that Clark brandishes and the dynamite used to bring down the entire camp. Over and over, phallic symbols show the masculine power, either over the more submissive researchers – keep in mind MacReady is the much more “manly” pilot – or the Thing itself.

An exact image of how the 10 year old Bob envisioned his adult self.

Alright, so Kurt Russell (aided by his flamethrower penis – wow, loved that I typed that) is a representation of masculinity, but how is this masculinity represented in relation to feminity?

                Well, the relation to feminity is the only reason why this observation is important. Cixious argues that man’s need to creative a phallolococentric (no surprise there is a red line under that) society is based on Freud’s (HIM AGAIN???) idea of castration anxiety. She believes that this causes a great fear in men of female sexuality. This fear, she claims, is what causes the demonization of women in literature. She argues, “That is because they need femininity to be associated with death; it’s the jitters that gives them a hard-on! For themselves!” Oh yeah, she went there. So let’s examine this. There are two “female” characters in this film as far as this analysis goes. The first is very fleeting. You may not even remember her, but she was my favorite. That’s right, the chess computer. When she crosses Kurt Russell, he calls her a bitch and destroys her. The Thing is another representation of this. It is demonized for taking on their form, for taking on their bodies, much like Cixious talks of how woman is perceived when she does not practice the “modesty” expected of her. Eventually, the flamethrower wielding men, with their dynamite and guns and manly beards are triumphant over the Thing.

I could talk all day about the Thing in many instances resembles a vagina with teeth and is a man-eater, but didn’t we beat that to death in class?

Far From Heaven: Blackness, Marginalizatoin and Washboard Abs

Far From Heaven rocked my world with Dennis Quaid’s washboard abs, the All-State guy’s soothing voice and of course Julian Moore with a haircut that just doesn’t work for her. I’m a very shallow movie watcher, this we know to be true. Although, I did, through sheer willpower, I made myself pay attention to two things in the film. The use of color and what the use of colors even means. I suppose really it is paying attention to one thing and then expanding on it, but I’m really reaching here.

(What are you talking about with colors? You do know those mushrooms that your roommate keeps in his desk are NOT for your pizza, right?)

First, the intentional use of different lighting filters in different sequences is very clear throughout the film. For example, when Captain Washboard Abs (Quaid but from now on known as CWA) first ventures into the gay-bar (is there a better word for that? Alternative Lifestyle Hangout? That is waaaaaay too long. I’m sticking with gay-bar…which sounds like a delicious German treat…goodness I’ve stumbled far from my original thought.) the whole room is lit by a green hue. This green hue returns when Julianne Moore finds CWA philandering in his office. (Also sidenote: philandering is a word I don’t use nearly enough.) This hue continues throughout the film and seems to represent a shame of sorts. Whenever a character is acting outside of the role that has been assigned to them by society, it appears. The blue hue is the other hue that appears multiple times throughout the film. We see it when a character (typically CWA) is in the dark, grappling with their role in the world.

(Alright, I’ll bite, so if these colors signify different things, what does the film itself say about roles?)

So Fanon talks in his piece “The Fact of Blackness” about how his blackness is viewed through a lens comparing it to whiteness. He talks about cannibalism and slavery for a while, but when he finally calms down with the histrionics and makes a point, he makes a valid one. CWA is just as marginalized as say All-State guy is. He would be viewed poorly and treated badly because of his homosexuality, but the difference is he is capable of hiding it. Fanon very obtusely compares his blackness to the plight of Jews throughout the world and while I hold contention with some of the things he said, his overall point his true. Blackness is not something that can be hidden. Furthermore, blackness has a role assigned with it
and when a black man acts outside of those roles, as All-State did, there is an outcry. Eventually, that outcry led to All-State’s removal .

Essentially, there are many marginalized groups. If you aren’t a white, protestant, wealthy male, you probably fall into one of them. However, only a few are very apparent -- as apparent as the light of the room in a scene or the color of one’s skin.


The most important question this film made me ask is two-fold: how many situps does Dennis Quaid do a day and why wasn’t he cast as King Leonidus in 300?

Seriously. I want to meet this man's trainer.

Conversations With Myself: New Blag Format to Keep It Fun (For Me, Not You)

Sup blag.

(Sup.)

Good to see you again. Boy, do I have a doozie for you today. I got to watch a lady be hanged.

(Sounds terrible.)

Oh yeah, I openly wept and hid under the covers for like 45 minutes. Don't tell anyone.

(Secret is safe here, chief.)

Thanks buddy. Wanna hear about it?

(Not really, but I'm going wager that you'll tell me about it anyway.)

Bingo. You just get me, blag.

I Can't See S*@t: Dancer in the Dark, Blindness and Alienation

I'll be honest, I've read a lot of Marx. No, it is not because I'm a communist revolutionary. More out of curiousity. Growing up under possibly the most Republican (they're calling themselves Libertarians now, get with the times) parents to ever exist, one begins to wonder why everything they dislike is "Communist", "Socialist" or "Marxist." So I'll preface this with saying, I was pumped to do some stuff on Marx. Also, Bjork has always topped out my weird-o-meter. (Like that time she wore a swan as a dress?) Exactly like that. Dancer in the Dark did not disappoint on the weird scale. The whole film is about the alienation of Bjork's character. (Didn't Bjork alienate herself by being weird and from a part of the world that no one cares about? What even is a fjord?) No, alienated in the way Marx spoke about in his writing. The alienation of the worker, of labor. (You're gonna make me ask it, aren't you?) Absolutely, that is why I keep you around.

(In what ways was Bjork's character Selma alienated and how does it parallel Marx?)

The most obvious answer to this of course is her place in the world. She was a worker doing manual labor in a plant, living on someone else's land in their trailer. This is just in content alone. How does the director represent her alienation? Her blindness of course. This is the most obvious symbol in the entire film. (Not obvious to the point of being lazy I hope.) Nope, it is well executed. Her blindness is representative of her alienation. (You keep saying Marx's alienation, just assuming I know what it is. You always do this. This is why you have no friends.) Fine, I'll explain it, quickly and simply. (If you did it any other way, I'd stop listening.)

"Labor produces not only commodities: it produces itself and the worker as a commodity." (What in the heck does that mean?) By making labor something that can be bought, something that has value, the worker is "objectificated." (That's not a word.) Yes it is. (Then why is there a red line below it.) Stop, just let me finish. "The more objects the worker produces the fewer he can possess and the more he falls under the dominion of his product, capital." Essentially, the worker eventually becomes nothing more than his product. The worker finds him or herself in the product. These workers live to work. They are no longer human. They are alienated and most importantly, they have no idea this is happening. They are blind to this process. Blind to the power over them. (Oh I get it. So she is blind to her dependence on the product.) I just said that. (No you didn't.) Whatever. It is a bit deeper than that. The worker eventually realizes their work is not theirs but belongs to someone else. That is where the alienation stems.

(Got it) No you don't. (But if I say I do, you'll move on to the important stuff.) True. So now that we're talking about Selma again, that is her blindness: her alienation and dehumanization. The most important part of the blindness: it is genetic and will be passed on to her son. (Oh sad.) Her work all goes to her saving for her son to recieve surgery to avoid the blindness. This is the same as a worker spending 60 hours a week in a factory trying to keep from perpetually having their offspring be int he same place, alienated.

(So I guess my next question is: did the film itself alienate the audience? because this film sounds pretty brutal.)

That is actually a point of contention in my class. (A simple yes or no would've been better.) It isn't that simple though. (It never is.) The audience never actually connects with the character of Selma. She is too awkward and strange. (Just like Bjork. Bjork as Bjork, brilliant!) The argument is made that since the audience is estranged from Selma, we are estranged from the situation. Always the contrarian, I say this is not the case. (You would.) The film does a couple things that actually make the audience more connected to the situation, even though they are disconnected from Selma. (Oh God, a list...) 1. The handy-cam filming makes one feel as though they are baring witness to the events. The camera is not intended to be a view from any particular character, but it does give the feel that you are standing there when she is hanged, when she walks home on the tracks, when she day dreams int eh factory. 2. The candid moments. The moments when Selma does not think anyone is watching her. For example, when she walks home, kicking the tracks to know where they are. Or when she places her finger in her water glass to know when it is almost full. Little things like these bring the audience closer to the events and give them a sort of authenticity. (No three?) No three. I said a couple. (I always forget, a couple is two, a few is three or four and many...oh I'll never get your ambiguous crap.)

So, wrapping it up (finally!), the blindness plays a key role in not only demonstrating Marx's Alienation, but also in bringing the audience closer to the situation, even if this distances ourselves from Selma. (WOO!)

Stop Staring. Its Creepy: Mulvey and the Rear Window

Remember when being a peeping tom wasn’t super creepy? Neither do I. In fact, I still remember the first time my mother had me watch The Rear Window. I was about twelve or thirteen and we had watch Birds the night before. Or maybe it was North by Northwest. I can’t remember. The point is, she assured me it was just as genius as the movie the night before. However, as a child, I remember being immersed in the film but having inkling that there was something wrong with what our protagonist was embarking on. Yes, he had good intention, but he sure was being a creeper about it. More importantly, he seemed to enjoy watching these people. Mulvey would of course have a lot to say about young Bob’s reaction to this. She would use cool words like scopophilia (I KNEW that one was going to get a red line,) and reference Freud a lot. So instead of dancing around it, let’s dive right into this.

Scopophilia is defined as pleasure in looking. I will from here on probably refer to it as “enjoying looking at stuff” because let’s be honest, we all like looking at stuff and we’re kind of scopophiliacs (another red line!).  So what would Mulvey say about the Rear Window and specifically how Jeffries setting affects his actions? Mulvey almost directly addresses this by saying “the extreme contrast between the darkness in the auditorium (which isolates the spectators from one another) and the brilliance of the shifting patterns of light and shade on the screen helps promote the illusion of voyeuristic separation” (382). Obviously this quote refers to the act of “looking at stuff” by the audience and not the characters in the film, but the gaze of Jeffries is just as important as gaze of the audience. Jeffries is almost always shrouded in darkness throughout the film and at some points even escapes to the darkness to achieve this separation from the object he is watching. Young Bob was separated from Jeffries as well, in the darkness of his living room and we as a class we separated as well. Essentially,  we were scopophiliacs of a scopophiliac (scopophiliac^2).

                This effect is even apparent when Jeffries is gazing at Grace Kelly (what was her name? She is always Grace Kelly to me, whatever.) We see this whenever she enters, as he gazes at her. The light-contrast is very apparent when the detective is visiting. He notices Lisa’s (Lisa, that was it!) night things on the counter and gazes at her shadow on the ceiling, with the light behind her and them in near darkness. The detective was separated just as Jeffries was separated from Miss Torso, Lonelyhearts and Mr. Thorwald.

                The way Jeffries gazes at the different sexes (Torso, Lonelyhearts and Lisa v. Thorwald) are starkly different as well. How would Mulvey compare Jeffries gazes toward women versus toward men?

            Also, Grace Kelly was a fox. Wait, did I just do what Mulvey said we do?

 Mulvey says, “please in looking has been split between active/male and passive/female” (383). This seems to be very true in the rear window. Jeffries watches Torso and Lonelyhearts with a sense of curiousity, seeing them as objects. He watches as Lonelyhearts circles the drain and as Torso…does Torso-y things. He even watches his girlfriend Lisa with a passive eye, as she is something to watch. All of these examples, they are never treated as an active way to advance the story but as something sexual and erotic (best example of course being Torso and Lisa.) Thorwald on the other hand is that of spectacle and advances the plot. In fact, the act of watching Thorwald is the major driving point of the plot.

                Mulvey would say the reason for all of this is for the audience to identify with the man (which they do) and to objectify the women (which it does in some but not all cases, ie. Lonelyhearts) and to her is proof of Freudian attitudes built into the audience (most involving castration and other delightful topics). While Mulvey’s interpretation is interesting and definitely merits the above observation, it is incomplete, but that isn’t the point of this blog, now is it?

Move along, nothing to see here. Stop staring. It’s creepy.