Free Enterprise: Adventures in Film and Death Disco (Creative Writing Homework)

It was a terrible feeling when I first heard that my friend Patrick was getting into fights with his dad, and was in danger of going over the edge. Trying to cope with the pain, he posted a series of messages on Facebook about his feelings and what he was doing, and I understood. Apparently he had relapsed into depression after his dad unjustly accused him of wasting money after someone had bought him the classic film It’s a Wonderful Life for his birthday, and now wanted death instead, which bears a certain irony. Patrick had grown more gutsy and assertive of late, and I think on some level his father was terrified of that kind of self expression. Thinking over what I could do for him, indeed ditching this very class because I couldn’t handle it, it occurred to me that one should never kill themselves without seeing what Tim Burton has in store for the cinema. While I had already seen Alice in Wonderland a couple of times, the first in IMAX 3D for my friend Nathan’s birthday party along with Patrick’s brother Cameron, I knew that Patrick had not yet seen it. I remembered a mythic element described by Joseph Campbell in The Hero of a Thousand Faces in which a hero undergoing a rite of passage enters the forest and encounters an ogre who acts as threshold guardian between him and where he needs to be. There he suffers a traumatic ego-shattering experience at the hands of the ogre that paradoxically prepare him for the trials and blessings ahead. Thinking it over, I realized this was exactly what had happened to Patrick. I remembered how I had suffered a similar fate at the hands of a bully at the film school, leading to my premature departure owing to deep psychological trauma. And I realized that if I could face my ogre, perhaps so could he--now that he was soon to graduate from high school, I would propose that we enter the film school and work together to undertake our own venture.

Not coincidentally, Alice in Wonderland begins and ends with the proposal of a business venture, and I would use the occasion to mark my own proposition. Regrettably, the film was too late in its run to be shown in 3D, and it was tricky trying to get Patrick and I coordinated to meet at the same time, but eventually we got it. Commenting on his film, Burton says that Alice is a young lady “who doesn't quite fit into Victorian society and structure,” and that her return to Wonderland “becomes a rite of passage as she discovers her voice and herself.” Picking up several years after Lewis Carroll’s original novels, Burton draws upon Carroll’s poem “Jabberwocky” about a young lad (actually Alice is in the illustration) who uses a “vorpal sword” to slay the dragon, and pushes it to the fore of the narrative. In contrast to fairy tales that seek either to engender or address “feminine” passivity, albeit with some ambiguity that is open to interpretation,[1] Burton’s film seeks to encourage active self-discovery at the encounter with such periods of transformation. Of course, this kind of story has always had an important element of more or less veiled sexual imagery, which can be seen in elements like Alice’s growth and shrinking, or the Cheshire Cat’s wide-toothed grin as it transitions to the fertile crescent moon. But the most compelling element of the narrative is the way it seeks to reconcile Simone de Beauvoir’s application of Sartre’s existentialism to the field of gender metaphysics with some guiding principle like Providence or Fate. After all, Alice is in the process of becoming Alice by way of acquiring “muchness”, which implies “existence proceeds essence”, even as the prophecy predicts she will slay the Jabberwocky. Interestingly, the two seem to have changed their incompatibilist views later in life on the evidence of their shared vocation and relationship, with Beauvoir stating “as the relationship between Sartre and me grew, I became convinced that I was irreplaceable in his life, and he in mine. In other words, we were totally secure in the knowledge that our relationship was also totally solid, again preordained, though, of course, we would have laughed at that word then.”[2] To the present author, this conundrum can be answered through the application of a Molinist soteriology, which is why the caterpillar Absolem the Absolute keeps answering her queries about whether or not she is the “right Alice” in terms of an essence that is acquired and not given, just as existentialism seeks transcendent expression in a life that is more essential. As Alice justly exclaims “From the moment I fell down that rabbit hole I’ve been told what I must do and who I must be. I’ve been shrunk, stretched, scratched, and stuffed into a teapot. I’ve been accused of being Alice, and of not being Alice, but this is MY dream. I’ll decide where it will goes from here.”

From the very beginning, Alice has always been a no-nonsense character who is not afraid of naming imposed social expectations as absurd, or to grow tall and say to the established order “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!” One of the most compelling elements of Burton’s film is they way it explores themes of the politics of nonsense. On the one hand, the State is implicated for relying upon nonsense and terror to uphold its sovereignty with its Jabberwocky. On the other, nonsense serves as a tool to communicate taboo social information that would normally be repressed if expressed more explicitly, as with the Mad Hatter’s tea party. The political dimensions of a tea party are not lost to contemporary viewers, although Burton’s Punk roots and left-leaning politics, combined with the critique of industrial capitalism in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street and Alice’s delight in the prospect of “the decline of the aristocracy” make it unlikely that this film shares in such ignoble sympathies. As with many of Burton’s characters played by Johnny Depp, the Mad Hatter is an androgynous renaissance man with a very strong fashion sense, especially for hats. Gothic & Lolita fashion and looking-glass romanticism are the order of the day, with the present author taking special delight in watching the Mad Hatter spraying perfume in the not so chivalrous knight’s eyes, an apt commentary on the project of the film. Here the mutually supportive relationship between Alice and the Hatter, rather like a pair of siblings, effectively mediates the tension between the creative passions of an Edward Scissorhands with the destructive powers of a Sweeney Todd, while lending Alice confidence in her own being and vision. Two important subtexts of the trial of Joan of Arc are the questions of accessing the state of grace, which is to say accessing the will of God, independent of mediation from of institutions like the Church, and of the implications of taking codes of chivalry not as a restrictive set of values imposed upon her by the protective/dominant male, but as a personal calling and vocation. At the heart of such questions is the deeper question of the relation of woman to the symbolic, and these questions lie at the heart of Alice in Wonderland. Initially it appears that Alice is wounded when she stands her ground by the Bandersnatch, which suffers a counter-wound at the hands of the Dormouse, who has been roused from constant slumber to become a chivalrous lass herself. The parallelism assumes a different quality when the wounds are addressed and healed by the mutual alliance of Alice with the toothed beast in the cave to unleash havok upon the spear-armed card soldiers, which bears the implication that woman is not so much feared as the castrated but as a potential castrator, with all the attendant implications for symbolicity. While some critics contend the final battle at the end of the film is mindless and gratuitous, the quest to slay the Jabberwocky has important thematic resonance with the rest of the film. Indeed, the misse-en-scene places her battle on a higher plane, while the formal arrangements of the stage, shots, and lighting links her battle to the Knight’s game of chess with Death in The Seventh Seal, and through it to The Passion of Joan of Arc.

During the film credits, Patrick and I had a good chat about the implications of Alice’s proposition to resume her late father’s occupation of colonial trading, going even further than he did while setting sail under the flag of the British Empire. Thinking it over, I argued this element reflects Tim Burton’s ambivalence about returning to work with a global media empire like Disney, the same company that failed to affirm his own vision early in his career while they had the chance. Alice’s affinity for orientalism in the form of opening trade routes with China, where “the culture is vibrant”, seems to be undertaken in the spirit of subverting the empire with its cultural repressions in line with Burton’s career-long emphasis on affirming the passions. Patrick said he really enjoyed the film, and was surprised the critics he heard of had such a low opinion of it. To this, I said something along the lines of never trust the critics, but trust your own affinities. My own proposition was met with approval, and I look forward to the opportunity of making films with Patrick in the near future.

My second adventure with Patrick involves an ill-fated Denver concert of the reformed Public Image Ltd., the group that kicked off the Post-Punk era in the aftermath of the breakup of The Sex Pistols. Formed by John Lydon of “Johnny Rotten” fame, Public Image Ltd. was a vanguard experimental band by which Lydon sought to reclaim his public image and humanity from demonization in the press, physical assaults by thuggish British nationalists, and the characteristic machinations of the infamous band manager Malcolm McLaren. Public Image Ltd. sought to expand the horizons of Punk’s do-it-yourself ethos by embracing “free enterprise”, presenting themselves not as a band but as an independent media corporation. Through such releases as “Death Disco” and Metal Box/Second Edition, Public Image Ltd. proved that Punk could both subvert and incorporate territory from its traditional musical rivals, effectively laying the groundwork for a wider musical impact than “Here’s three chords, go start a band.” A while back Patrick and I watched Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and Patrick expressed a longing for that kind of crazy adventure, to which I promised to include him in my own adventures around Denver. At the heart of the film is the quest to find one of the rare performances of a legendary Indie band Where’s Fluffy, whose logo is a white rabbit their listeners must follow. The search for Where’s Fluffy ultimately turns out to be a McGuffin, with the real quest being Nick and Norah’s unpredictable adventures with their friends, ultimately discovering each other. Despite our efforts, Patrick and I have never found a girlfriend, which in many respects is as surprising as it is disappointing. Calling up Patrick intermittently to invite him to the concert and work out all the details, I warned that this might be a case of “Where’s Fluffy”, but that it would be worth the risk either way.

Riding in Patrick’s self-styled black spray painted Joker mobile, we managed to find a parking place a fair distance from the Ogden Theater. Conversing about films, friends, and our experiences of Denver on the way over, the walk really didn’t seem that long. But as we made our way on Colfax, a man in a studded leather jacket forewarned that the Public Image Ltd. concert was canceled, to which I indulged in a rare swear word (they don’t really bother me, I just don’t usually feel the need). Agreeing we nevertheless had to see what was up, we continued as before, and noticing that it was still early, we stopped in to the nearby Gothic clothing store Rave’s Oh My Goth!. Exploring its darkened treasures, we were eventually greeted and offered help by a charmingly effeminate gentleman, who sold Patrick a set of replacement vampire fangs. Finally making it to the Ogden Theater, there we met a disappointed small crowd around the front doors, where a bill was posted stating “Public Image Limited Cancelled. Tonight’s concert has been cancelled due to bad weather conditions. Refunds will be given at point of purchase.” Talking over where we would go from here, we agreed to head over to the Wax Trax music store. There I immersed in their brilliant selection of underground music while the less knowledgeable Patrick found himself out of his element. “You really need to listen to more music,” I commented. Eventually, the owner put on what I learned was First Issue by Public Image Ltd., and we conversed about the canceled concert. Apparently, they got stuck in Wyoming after flying in because of closures on I-80 owing to icy roads. Eventually, we were joined in the store by other endearing but disappointed Punks, who chatted at the front door. Purchasing a copy of Dub Side of the Moon by Easy-Star All Stars and Secret Homeland by Ostara, I said “pardon me” to the Punks at the front door in a way that says ‘you’re OK, I just need to get through’, they graciously made us some room to pass.

Trying to get to the Cafe Netherworld, Patrick and I were promptly kicked out for being under 21 (actually I’m 22) by means of a very liberal interpretation of 9:00 P.M., which I am to understand actually signifies the number of people in the building. We made up for it, however, by hanging out at the 16th Street Mall for a while at the places that don’t actually suck. While at the Barnes and Noble, I noticed a copy of my friend Mike Sares’ book Pure Scum: The Left-Out, the Right-Brained and the Grace of God about his ragtag congregation of outcasts, Scum of the Earth, I promptly purchased it. After stopping to eat, we finally made our way home, which was something of an adventure in itself. As we neared my house, I commented “This really was like Where’s Fluffy?... of course, neither one of us still has a girlfriend,” at which I burst out laughing. Little did I know he was soon to foolishly turn down the affections of his friend Marquis, with whom he is remarkably compatible. So yeah, the Public Image Ltd. concert was wonderful, despite never happening.

My final adventure around Denver was undertaken alone, owing to the 21+ policy of the Goth night at the Denver nightclub The Church. As I see it, the art of DJing is itself a performance art owing to the careful selection and synchronization of audio-visual elements played through the speakers and video screens for the club patrons to participate through dance. My own style of dance is best described as a fusion of Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney, Charlie Chaplin, and David Byrne, which both fits in and stands out amidst the general spookiness. The music here generally has a kind of dark ethereal vibe with thick power chords, or angry and alienated EBM with an Industrial beat. This kind of weekly death disco danse macabre in itself speaks volumes about the influence and legacy of Public Image Ltd. and the bands that followed. The Church itself is an old Gothic cathedral deconverted into a nightclub without an excess of iconoclasm or disrespect beyond little touches like a half-moustaches painted on the cherubim on the constantly candlelit altar dedicated to the memory of one of the church’s original patrons, and forms the perfect surroundings for this sort of occasion with dark and red expressionist lighting. Stopping to watch the video screens, I noticed such synchronized visuals as creepy dolls in motion from what looked like a Brothers Quay film, Japanese horror film ghost imagery, and clips of a bleak post-industrial zone. Unexpectedly meeting my friend David, we conversed on such topics as the Punk roots of Gothic music, and the reasons for my departure from Scum of the Earth. Overall, it was a very good and informative time, although I am sorry to say it ended on a sour note. Feeling gravely dismayed by my own solitude and inability to find understanding in the world, watching the stained glass of Jesus and the children darken while a young couple put the moves on each other near the corner in which I was standing. Like Antonius Block, I left pondering the absence of love and the silence of heaven in my own search for meaningful action against a backdrop of stark negation. "Ever get the feeling you've been cheated? Good night."[3]

Endnotes:

1. For example, is Little Briar-Rose of Sleeping Beauty asleep because her rite of passage is simply to passively accept male rescue, or is she asleep because her psychological defenses are so proactive trying to reach her is like cutting through an impenetrable thicket surrounding her castle? What about the narrative wars over the ending of Little Red Riding Hood, which poses the question of the dangers and possibilities of a young woman entering the forest of adventure with the onset of menstruation?
2. “The second sex 25 years later” by Simone de Beauvoir and John Gerassi, accessed at http://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/ethics/de-beauvoir/1976/interview.htm
3. "The Sex Pistols - No Fun - Winterland Pt.14" accessed at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eod47vBEVJ0