#like it’s not as obvious but like move over ingrid bergman!!!!!

[nicollekidman]

rebecca ferguson is going to be a golden age Movie Star btw (and is well on her way) she’s just so aggressively swedish that american film people are only now catching up to her vibe

#like it’s not as obvious but like move over ingrid bergman!!!!! #she has exactly the right balance of actor brain and swedish insanity and charisma #and talent #i have hitched my wagon to her and miss kirby and so far i’m not disappointed

[the-rewatch-rewind]

An old movie with a very relevant name.

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies over the last 20 years. Today I will be discussing number 14 on my list: MGM’s 1944 psychological thriller Gaslight, directed by George Cukor, written by John Van Druten, Walter Reisch, and John L Balderston, based on the play by Patrick Hamilton, and starring Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer, and Joseph Cotten.

So first of all, if you’re thinking, “Gaslight? As in, to deny someone’s reality to the point that they can no longer trust their own perceptions?” then, yes, you’re absolutely correct: this movie (and the play it’s based on and the 1940 British film it’s a remake of) is where that term comes from. So I’m just going to give a blanket content warning for this whole episode: I will be talking a lot about psychological and emotional abuse. This is an incredibly well-made movie, which is why I keep revisiting it, but I recognize that not everybody is in the right place to hear stories about gaslighting, so please, take care of yourself, and skip this episode if you think it’s going to cause you distress.

That being said, I truly have no idea why “gaslighting” suddenly became a popular buzzword in the last 10 years or so, or how it has evolved to be misapplied to any form of lying. I’ve even heard people talk about how someone is “gaslighting” them when they merely disagree about something. So despite how incredibly dark and disturbing this movie is, I really think everyone should watch it, if for no other reason than to learn how to use the term correctly. But there’s obviously a lot more to it than that, which I will get into. But first, my traditional plot summary:

When her aunt and guardian, a famous opera star, is murdered in their London home, young Paula Alquist (Ingrid Bergman) is sent to Italy to train as a singer. Ten years later, she is swept off her feet by her new accompanist, Gregory Anton (Charles Boyer), and after knowing each other only two weeks, they get married. Though she is still haunted by her aunt’s unsolved murder, upon hearing that Gregory has always wanted to live in London, Paula suggests that they move into her old house. As they settle in, Gregory’s behavior gradually changes, and Paula begins to feel like she is losing her mind.

The main thing I remember about the first time I watched this movie was thinking it wasn’t a very good mystery, since it’s pretty obvious fairly early on who the bad guy is. But by the end it became clear that it was never meant to be a mystery, but rather a map of red flags to watch out for, as well as a surprisingly sympathetic portrayal of how easy it can be to ignore them until it’s too late. Or, I guess I should say, almost too late, since, spoiler alert: the movie does have a mostly happy ending. Anyway, I had never seen a movie like this before and it fascinated me. I watched it twice in 2003, once in 2004, once in 2006, once in 2007, twice in 2008, three times in 2012, once in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, twice in 2016, once in 2017, once in 2018, once in 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. I also saw the 1940 version once in 2006. I don’t remember much about it other than I thought it was pretty good, but the remake was better. And a big part of that is because of the cast of the remake. One of my 2015 views of the remake was part of my watching through Best Actress winners project because Ingrid Bergman won the first of her three Oscars for this film. Apparently at the time I ranked this performance as the 7th best to win that award, and now if anything I feel like that was too low. The more I rewatch this movie, the more impressed I am by what a difficult job she had and how thoroughly she crushed it.

Paula is an incredibly complex character who undergoes a significant emotional journey. At the beginning, though she’s definitely still haunted by the trauma of her youth, she’s mostly happy and hopeful and vivacious. And then all of that slowly dims as Gregory’s manipulations escalate, almost as if she is a gas light that he’s turning down. That’s not why the movie is called Gaslight, though; it’s called that because one of the early signs that something sketchy is going on is when Paula starts to notice lights dimming as if someone turned a new light on somewhere else in the house, but nobody else seems to notice this and she can’t find a good explanation for it. But watching Paula go from a lively, lovestruck newlywed to basically a zombie struggling to find a shred of reality she can trust also feels like watching a gas light flame go down. And it would have been so easy to either overdo or undersell this descent into confusion, but Ingrid Bergman perfectly balances every moment. You can see Paula starting to doubt herself more and more as her actions and words become more hesitant and her looks become more vague, until she begins to resign herself to the fact that Gregory must be right, she must be insane, there’s nothing more she can do. It’s so painful and heartbreaking that I desperately want to reach through the screen and comfort her and tell her what’s really going on. And then, just when I almost can’t stand it anymore, Joseph Cotten shows up to do that for me. He plays Inspector Brian Cameron of Scotland Yard, a childhood fan of Paula’s aunt who happens to see Paula one of the few times she’s out with Gregory in London, which leads him to reopen the cold case of her aunt’s murder and figure out what’s going on just in time to help Paula. The implication that Paula needs a man to rescue her is one thing I don’t love about this movie, but at the same time I think it’s important to acknowledge that Gregory was so effective at – for lack of a better term – gaslighting her that she could not have escaped that situation without help.

Not to take any of the credit away from Bergman for her stellar performance, but I do think it helped that George Cukor was the director. Longtime listeners may recognize his name from Holiday, which was number 33 on this list, and Adam’s Rib, which was number 27, both of which have significantly lighter tones. Gaslight feels much more like an Alfred Hitchcock picture than a George Cukor one. Cukor apparently didn’t like being referred to as a “woman’s director,” but he had a reputation for his ability to coax great performances out of actresses, and this is certainly no exception. In order to help Bergman keep track of Paula’s gradual descent toward madness while shooting out of order, Cukor would tell her the whole plot up to the scenes they were filming each day, which Bergman initially resented, but then he stopped doing it for a few days and she realized how helpful it had been, and they went back to doing it that way. I do think Ingrid Bergman would have been great in this role regardless of who the director was, but George Cukor helped elevate her to the best she could possibly be.

While Bergman’s performance is far and away my favorite aspect of this movie, the rest of the cast is also phenomenal, albeit rather small. It definitely has that based-on-a-play feel of limited locations and few characters, although that also works very well with the story. Part of Gregory’s strategy is to cut Paula off from the rest of the world so she won’t have a safety net. Consequently, for most of the film she only interacts with him and their two servants: the kind but mostly-deaf cook, Elizabeth, played by Barbara Everest, and the saucy, flirtatious maid, Nancy, played by none other than 18-year-old Angela Lansbury in her film debut, both of whom are absolutely perfect in their roles. I love Everest’s delivery of “I see just how it is” when Gregory is trying to keep Elizabeth on his side without realizing that she’s always been firmly on Paula’s. And Lansbury embodies the exact attitude required for Nancy: flirtatious toward Gregory, disdainful toward Paula, totally oblivious to how she’s being manipulated until the end – all conveyed with every look she gives and line she speaks as if she’s a veteran actor. It comes as absolutely no surprise that she went on to have such a long and successful career, with this as her first screen performance. She was even nominated for an Oscar! And then there’s the neighbor Miss Thwaites, played by Dame May Whitty, who adds some much-needed levity with her “diggy biscuits” and morbid curiosity about the house in her square where there was a “real murder!” Joseph Cotten’s role is honestly pretty bland – kind of the film noir version of a classic Disney prince, in a way – but he makes the most of it. And then there’s Charles Boyer, giving one of the best creepy villain performances I’ve ever seen, which was also Oscar-nominated. He starts out just sort of vaguely unsettling, raising one or two red flags right off the bat, but like, he could still be okay, and then by the end he is full-on terrifying. He has this amazing stone-faced look that makes your blood run cold. There’s this one moment in particular, kind of toward the middle, when Miss Thwaites and Inspector Cameron (posing as her nephew) have tried to visit them, and Gregory tells Nancy to send them away. Paula wanted to let them in but he freaked out so she backed down, and then after Nancy leaves she again says she wanted to see them, and he’s like, “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” and it makes me want to scream. Then he tells her she didn’t have time to see them because they’re going out to the theater, and Paula’s like, “I didn’t know that…or did I forget?” and Gregory, facing the camera with his back to her, opens his mouth to respond, and then stops and waits for her to dwell on that for a few more seconds before he tells her that no, this is a surprise, and both his face and her face are so perfect there, I love it and hate it so much. Like, I love it from a “this movie is so well acted” perspective, and I hate it from a “this character is a horrible human being” perspective. And then Paula gets overly happy, since she’s been trapped in the house for so long that him letting her go out seems like a wonderful gift. But then he “notices” that a picture is missing from the wall, and makes her think she hid it, and they end up not going out because she’s “too unwell.”

That’s the main way he manipulates her: by moving things and making it look like she took them. What’s particularly interesting about the way the movie shows this is we never actually see Gregory taking any of the things, but it is nevertheless clear that he has been. But he is so insistent that she’s doing it that we can easily believe that Paula wouldn’t suspect him, or that if she did, she would have significant doubts. And even if she did figure it out, it’s not like there’s anything she can do about it. She’s in London for the first time in a decade, she doesn’t know anyone, she doesn’t have anywhere to go, and she’s not sure she can trust her own mind. And I think it’s so important that the movie at no point faults her for ending up in that situation or for not being able to leave. The movie also gives no indication that Gregory is physically harming Paula, but leaves the audience in no doubt that he is an abusive husband. And I feel like the messages that abuse doesn’t have to be physical and that it’s never the victim’s fault are still too rare in media today, let alone nearly 80 years ago. I feel like back then most unhealthy relationships in movies were in the His Girl Friday vein of “they’re kind of both abusing each other so it’s fine” or would find other ways for excusing or explaining the abusive behavior, like “the abuser was drunk” or “the victim was asking for it” or what have you. And if they weren’t like that, the victim usually ended up dead. In Gaslight, Gregory has no excuse. I mean, he does have a reason, but it’s a terrible reason that in no way justifies his actions. And Paula not only survives, but also gets an incredibly satisfying confrontation with Gregory after Brian and another policeman have tied him up. When the police leave them alone together, Gregory pleads with her to get a knife and cut him free, and for a moment you think she’s actually going to help him, but she gets her revenge by pretending she can’t find the knife and saying she’s too insane to help him, forcing him to admit that he has lied to her and she isn’t actually mad. And she wraps up her great payback with: “If I were not mad, I could have helped you. Whatever you had done, I could have pitied and protected you. But because I am mad, I hate you. Because I am mad, I have betrayed you. And because I'm mad, I'm rejoicing in my heart, without a shred of pity, without a shred of regret, watching you go with glory in my heart!” So she turns his gaslighting around on him, and it’s amazing. Although I must admit that right after that when she cries, “Mr. Cameron! Take this man away!” is the one part when I feel like Ingrid Bergman overdoes it just a little bit and gets too melodramatic, but after everything Paula has been through, she deserves as many melodramatic moments as she wants.

I would prefer it if the movie didn’t conclude with the implication that Paula is going to end up romantically involved with Brian, but again, she deserves all the happiness she can get, and if that’s what’s going to make her happy, I’m all for it. And I guess we can claim Miss Thwaites as aroace representation, since she seems to be an old maid with no interest in romance. This movie also speaks to my aromanticism and asexuality in a different, unique way. Because to a certain extent, being aroace in an allonormative, amatonormative society kind of feels like the entire world is gaslighting you. Of course, I don’t mean to imply that my experiences have been anywhere near as horrendous as someone like Paula’s – having your reality cruelly and intentionally twisted by a partner is on an entirely different level from not quite fitting in with the dominant culture’s concept of reality. Still, being constantly bombarded with the message that all mature humans frequently experience sexual and romantic attraction, and that a universal top life goal is to find a partner you’re attracted to that way, when you don’t feel those attractions and don’t desire that kind of partner, is incredibly confusing and disorienting. Once you become an adult, or even a teenager, people start giving you knowing looks when they hear you’ve been hanging out with a friend one-on-one, especially if that friend happens to be of the opposite sex. And you don’t think you like any of your friends “that way” but you also don’t really know what liking someone “that way” feels like so you start to think maybe you don’t know your own feelings. And if you’re lucky, your brain subconsciously decides that you do have crushes like a normal person, they’re just always on movie stars, most of whom are dead, which you realize is weird, but it’s an understandable kind of weird. Nobody believes you when you say you don’t have a crush on anybody, but if you show them a picture of Cary Grant and say, “I have a crush on him,” that makes sense to them. And so you end up becoming convinced that you’re experiencing types of attraction that you’re not, to the point that when you first hear about asexuality you don’t even consider the possibility that it could describe you. And of course, when I say “you” I mean “me”; I can’t speak for all aroaces, although I do think most of us experience some form of that confusion before we figure out that our identity exists. I feel like there’s a relatively widespread perception that aromantic and/or asexual people are just single allos who want to feel special by giving themselves a label, but for me, the opposite is true. Using the aroace label makes me feel less special, because now I know there are other people out there like me, after spending so much time trying to play along with the attraction I thought I was supposed to be feeling. It’s honestly been kind of difficult to unlearn this, to teach myself how to even recognize, let alone trust, what I’m actually feeling versus the socially acceptable way to be feeling about other people.

It’s weird because, looking back, it’s so obvious to me that I was faking crushes, that I was just parroting things I’d heard when I talked about them, that I was just smiling and nodding when people would say things like, “Isn’t that person hot?” But at the time, I absolutely could not admit that, even to myself, because I felt like, in order to be human, I must be experiencing what I’d been led to believe were universal human emotions that went along with sexual and romantic attraction. Back in 2013 I blogged about all the movies I’d seen at least 10 times in 10 years, and I just re-read my post about Gaslight, in which I apparently wrote that I found Joseph Cotten attractive in this movie. I don’t remember thinking or writing that, but I’m sure if I’d been asked to elaborate, I would have said I thought he was hot or whatever, even though I absolutely did not, I just thought I was supposed to. I wasn’t consciously lying; I had become convinced that I felt things I didn’t. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I really was attracted to him, not sexually or romantically, but in terms of the way his character functions in the story. I desperately needed someone to show up and tell me that the problem wasn’t with my mind and provide me with some key information I was missing that would explain what was going on, just like Brian does for Paula. Again, her experience was much more horrifying than mine, but learning that some people are aromantic and asexual, that not feeling those kinds of attraction is perfectly normal for those people, was almost as revelatory to me as learning that her husband killed her aunt and was trying to drive her mad was to Paula. Maybe it sounds like I’m the one being melodramatic now, but I don’t know how else to explain how messed up it is to spend decades convincing yourself and everyone else that you’re feeling things you’re not, and what a relief it is to learn that you were right all along and can finally take the mask off. And that’s why I’ve been focusing so much on looking at movies from an aromantic and asexual perspective on this podcast. Because I don’t want anyone else to go through all that. I want everyone to know that amatonormativity and allonormativity are lies, both because I want people on the aromantic and/or asexual spectrums to understand themselves sooner than I understood myself, and because I want alloromantic, allosexual people to know that not everyone is like them. I don’t blame the allo people I was surrounded with for perpetuating these norms because they didn’t know better. I know they weren’t really trying to gaslight me. But I would like to live in a society where most people do know better.

Anyway, I appreciate this movie for understanding me in ways that I couldn’t articulate until recently. But that’s far from the only reason it’s this high on my list. Again, I truly cannot overemphasize how phenomenal the acting is. Ingrid Bergman was always wonderful, but she took it to a whole other level here, and the rest of the cast were similarly at the top of their game. I never get tired of watching them act together, particularly when I’m in the mood for something a little darker. Like the other Ingrid Bergman movie I talked about, Notorious, I’m not sure whether Gaslight “counts” as film noir, because it has some of the typical noir tropes but lacks other important ones. But from a lighting and cinematography perspective, it definitely feels like a noir, so if you enjoy that style, you’ll probably appreciate this movie. It was nominated for a total of seven Oscars, including Best Picture, Screenplay, and Black-and-White Cinematography, in addition to the three acting nominations I mentioned earlier for Bergman, Boyer, and Lansbury. The only Oscar it won besides Best Actress was for Art Direction, which is something I don’t generally pay a ton of attention to, but the set is particularly important in Gaslight. The house almost functions as a character: it’s Gregory’s accomplice in torturing Paula, and the increasingly cluttered look of the rooms helps emphasize the way it’s trapping her. And, of course, there are the real, vintage gasoliers that give the movie its title and add greatly to its mood. So both of this movie’s Oscars were thoroughly deserved.

Thank you for listening to me discuss another of my most frequently rewatched films. This wraps up the 4-way tie of movies I saw 22 times from 2003 through 2022. I wonder how many other people out there have watched Beauty and the Beast, A Mighty Wind, His Girl Friday, and Gaslight the same number of times in the last 20 years. Anyway, I didn’t watch any movies exactly 23 times, so next up is the only one I watched 24 times, which is also one that I have a LOT of feelings and personal stories about, so stay tuned for what I’m sure will be a particularly long and rambling episode that I hope will be fun to listen to. As always, I will leave you with a quote from that next movie: “I don’t need to act things out in order to write them. I have what we like to call an ‘imagination.’ Have you ever heard of that? Oh, no no no no no, please tell us more about the old man… and the boat.”

#gaslight #ingrid bergman #charles boyer #george cukor #angela lansbury #the rewatch rewind

[petty-crush]

“Notorious”

-ahhhhhhhhhh, so refreshing

-what a great picture to start off the year with

-it would be his just as great any other time, but especially satisfying this early

-a woman gets involved in a international weapons conspiracy, and is torn between the spy who loves her and the other fool who craves her

-I haven’t seen 40s Hitchcock in a while, snd I gotta say, it’s beating the pants off 50s Hitch pretty easily (which is also great)

-this picture’s strength’s are endearingly obvious; fantastic visual set pieces, sharp characterization, a dynamite ending, and possibly the most erotic kissing in the history of film

-some choice word nibbles first (courtesy of Ben Hencht, a fierce wordsmith)

-“with my father now dead, I don’t hate him any longer....or myself”

-“I did love you. I was just a big fathead, filled with pain”

-so Hitch had the nerve to start the film with a simply voyeur shirt, a courtroom framed by the opening door

-note how he has the woman walking, but always has her on the right side of the frame, and like a conveyer belt has reporters bursting into the left side asking invasive questions

-hey, cinema lovers, I think this guy might be a great director

-later a continuous one shot, with a stranger introduced only by the back of his head, while the woman walks from one shoulder to another, drinking, drinking other men, laughing

-is this a joke at the reporter from citizen Kane? I got a feeling

-one enormous advantage 40s films have is their excellent black and white photography. So rich, so lush, so dreamlike

-so romantic too, which plays rather well into the torrid affair between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman

-note the almost sensual manner Hitch shows a close up of Grant moving his hand to pull the steering wheel from the drunk Bergman, only to hesitate and let her find her way

-get ready to have your mind blown by that shot of Grant entering the room after Bergman is in bed

-it has a cloudy vortex rip to it

-it looks like it could inspire “inception”, but really is stealing from the German expressionists (as Hitch always did) proving film is a ripple of waves splashing again and again

-I also like the reverse shot of Bergman, on her side in bed, with the glass of hangover killer occupying the frame with her face

-this film had some of the best camera work of all time

-I don’t simply meaning the details in the frame or even the motion, but how the story is told robustly and effortlessly visual

-ok, let’s talk about the smooches

-those fucking puritans, those rednecks in the south, told Hollywood via the hays code that no kiss could last more then 3 seconds

-they for sure kissed their cousin or mistresses (do I repeat myself there) for more then 3 seconds, but they project on others

-Hitch then has reasons they keep getting interrupted but kiss again, interrupted, kiss, repeat for 3 mins

-it is unbelievably sensual, and delightfully horny

-from an Englishman? Well, I’ll be

-Bergman must indeed have some of the wettest eyes in cinema history

-what I like about this film is that since everyone is spying, and used to guarding their faces, it’s in the second to second gestures, the gaps in the armor, that we see the real feelings come out

-each close up is a invitation to pour over the eyes more then usual

-How Grant truly wants her but is torn between longing and duty is spectacular

-I’m beyond impressed that Hitch and Ben were able to show American agencies in such a unflattering light, right after world war 2, when many was desperate to return to normal

-the CIA/FBI/etc equivalent is totally willing to have a woman marrying a guy for information, even kill her with no worry. That shit is like oxygen now, but way outside of polite society at the time

-then again, Hitch fucking hated cops (as he should)

-that scene where the five weapon dealers are in a darkened corner, the candles lighting them, looks positively ghastly and medieval

-Claude Rains plays one of the great patsies

-the woman playing his mom only had this one American film credit (more known in Germany) and boy does she make it count

-this is an fascinating piece to watch in view of the way a mother is central to Hitch’s “Psycho” and its world

-I forgot this great line almost

“We are protected by the enormity of your stupidity...for a time”

-oh shit, I also almost forgot this great shot too

-the camera starts high, goes down the stairs, through the party goers, through the champagne being passed around, to a close up of a key in Bergman’s hand

-when people talk about watching a great picture more then once to absorb it, to get the plot out of the way, and just enjoy the symphony of the shots and emotions, this is fucking exactly what they are talking about

-no single viewing will reveal all its tricks and treats

-I adore the part where after Bergman is poisoned (and realizes it) the light goes out on the back, leaving the human only darkened silhouettes

-feels like a powerful acid trip

-the ending is truly spectacular

-you sit there wondering how the hell Hitch is going to pull the cat n mouse game off, how Grant can walk down side by side with Rains but pull it off...and then he does

-there are many a famous shots in cinema, even endings, of doors and a fate closing with them, and I truly think this might be the best one

-I dare say it even outpowers the use of the door in “The Searchers”

-I left the the theatre dizzy with delight, the wonder of motion picture planted firmly in my heart and soul. What a great time at the movies

#notorious #alfred hitchcock #cary grant #ingrid bergman #film #new beverly cinema #new bev

[bet-your-ash]

RedBox

RedBox: A Cherry Tree Extra 1,400 words

“I’m booooored,” Ashley dragged out, throwing another cherry pit at the wall of the tree house. “Me too,” Lilac sighed. She twirled a twig around in her hand, inspecting the leaf on top of it. After another second of silence, she glanced at Ashley and added, “You know, we could always go inside and finish that ess-” 

“Nope!” Ashley interrupted. “Nope, nope, nope, do not even say the word.” 

“You’re gonna have to do it eventually, Ash…” 

“Not if the world ends before May, I don’t.” 

Lilac rolled her eyes. “Don’t count on it.” 

“Okay, you know what?” Ashley said, standing up with a determined look on her face. “We are going to go out.” 

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Go out where?” Ashley shrugged, patting her pockets for her keys. “Dunno. Somewhere.” She frowned, pulling the pockets of her shorts out to look for her keys. “Where’d I…” 

“Kitchen counter, Ash,” Lilac sighed, standing up and climbing down the ladder. 

“Damn,” Ashley muttered. “We’ll have to talk to people.” 

“It’s just Connor - your mom’s out, right?” Lilac asked, and Ashley scowled. “Just Connor,” she echoed, following Lilac through the living room to the kitchen. “Just Connor, just a centipede, just -” She snickered as she saw Connor sitting at the kitchen table. “Just two thousand eight Joe Jonas…” 

“I do not look like Joe Jonas!” Connor groaned, throwing up his hands. 

“Yeah,” Ashley said, mussing his grown out hair, “you do.” 

“His hair is, like, black!” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the length that counts.” 

“That’s what she said,” Lilac said under her breath, and Connor grinned. “Damn right!” 

“Gee, thanks, Li,” Ashley said incredulously.

“C’mon Ash,” Lilac laughed, putting an arm around Ashley’s shoulders as she led her out of the house and towards her car. “Honestly, sometimes I think you like him more than me,” Ashley mumbled, and Lilac nudged her shoulder. “Only when you’re indecisive about where we’re going.” 

“Hmm,” Ashley hummed, turning her key in the engine. “How about Walmart?” 

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “... why?” 

“Dunno,” Ashley replied with a shrug. “I wanna see a movie and there’s a - there’s, like, one of those old fashioned movie box things over there, right?” Lilac frowned. “Can’t we just watch Netflix? Do you even have money?” 

Ashley grinned, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. “Semantics, darling - let’s just get there, shall we?” Lilac sighed, gazing out the window, and then smiled when Ashley turned up the radio and shouted along with the song playing. 

They made it to Walmart fairly quickly and wandered around inside the store for a few minutes. “Ever seen the Aristocats?” Ashley asked from behind Lilac, and Lilac turned around to see Ashley posing in a mirror with a large, feathery, purple scarf wrapping around her neck. 

“Better not die on me, Ash,” Lilac joked, and Ashley sighed wistfully, putting on a fake British accent. “Never, darling, but not for you - I just couldn’t bear to leave my sweet little kittens all alone!” 

“You should play her in the live action remake,” Lilac laughed. 

“Jesus,” Ashley said, putting the scarf back on the rack, “those damn live actions. Like, why do they have to butcher those classic oldies? Can’t they just leave them be and make new stories?” 

“Disney died, right? Maybe they’re just not as creative as he was.” 

Ashley frowned, feeling the fabrics of the rack of coats they were passing. “Okay, well, he couldn’t have made up all of those stories single handedly.” Lilac shrugged, putting her hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t ask me -  my four am internet spirals consist solely of Napoleon and Casablanca.” 

“Napoleon?” Ashley echoed. “Isn’t that the three flavored ice cream?” 

Lilac grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

“We should watch that movie again,” Ashley mused, stopping by a sun glasses display to fiddle with the various glasses. “What, Casablanca?” Lilac asked, and Ashley nodded, trying on a pair of pink, heart shaped sunglasses. “Yeah,” she said. “Ingrid Bergman can, like, get it.” 

Lilac scoffed. “Are you serious?” 

Ashley smirked, pushing the pink glasses down her nose slightly to look at Lilac. “As a heart attack, kid.” Lilac rolled her eyes. “You just have a thing for Swedes.” Ashley shrugged, exchanging the hearts for neon green aviators. “Perhaps. Tall people are something to be admired.”

Lilac looked down at her feet. What height was considered tall? 

“Hey, think there’s a back entrance available to the public?” Ashley asked, breaking Lilac out of her thoughts. “Or do we have to break into an employee only area…” Lilac cleared her throat. “I dunno. But I do know,” she said, slipping the glasses off of Ashley’s nose, “that you steal these and we’re both going to jail.” 

Ashley raised a brow. “Who’s to say that wasn’t my goal?” 

“Me, Ash, I intend to keep my record clean.” 

“You have horrible taste in friends for such a dimwitted goal, Lila.” 

Lilac rolled her eyes with a smile, steering Ashley away from the door marked Employees Only at the back of the store and back towards the front entrance. “I’ll have you know that my taste in friends is impeccable,” Lilac replied. “You’re the only exception.” 

Ashley giggled, leaning into Lilac’s shoulder. She hummed under her breath, “Darling you… are… the only exception…” Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Is that… Paramore?” she asked, and Ashley shrugged. 

“Dunno,” she said absently, pouting when Lilac pulled her away from the sunglasses rack again. They walked through the doors and around the parking lot and finally found the Red Box they’d been looking for. 

“Oooh, Spies in Disguise!” Ashley squealed, pointing excitedly at the movie on the screen. “That looks awful, Ash,” Lilac said flatly, and Ashley scoffed. “That’s Tom Holland you’re disrespecting, Lila, watch yourself!” 

“Isn’t he the Spiderman guy?” 

“You should see his abs,” Ashley sighed wistfully, putting a hand over her forehead and swooning backwards. Lilac caught her, rolling her eyes, and muttered, “He looks like he’s eating a frog.” Ashley grinned. “It’s all part of his charm, Lila.” 

“Charm or not, we’re not watching Spies in Disguise,” Lilac said conclusively. “How about The Invisible Man?” Ashley grimaced. “Absolutely not. Shall we have our horror movie debate again?” 

“Okay, how about… Dolittle?” 

“Too many cute animals,” Ashley sighed. “I’ll cry. I wanna comedy. How ‘bout -” 

“Dolittle is a comedy!” 

“A real comedy!” Ashley exclaimed. “Like Scooby Doo!” 

“You’re just gay for Daphne,” Lilac muttered. 

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, you are too - besides, can’t be any more disturbing than the cartoon, can it? We can make fun of it and eat popcorn…” Lilac heaved a sigh but keyed in the number and paid, making Ashley squeal excitedly and wrap her arms around Lilac’s shoulders in a hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, Lila!” she chirped, but she stayed put even after a few seconds to watch the movie appear out of the slot with her arms still around Lilac’s shoulders. Lilac got the movie and glanced at her after a second, raising an eyebrow and trying not to make it too obvious how much she was dying at their proximity. 

“Gonna move, or am I gonna piggy back you all the way home?” Lilac asked. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“What if,” Ashley whispered, “we kissed in front of the Walmart Redbox… and we were both girls?” Lilac froze. “Um…” Ashley giggled, pulling away and singing loudly, “I have my dinner in my bathtub, then I go to sex club, la da da da da da…” 

“What the fuck?” Lilac muttered hoarsely. 

Ashley laughed at Lilac’s startled expression. “It’s a Tik Tok, Li, get with the program!” Lilac laughed wrly, shaking her head. “Of course it is,” she mumbled, getting into the passenger seat of Ashley’s car. 

“Hey, would you be willing to dress up as a Jonas brother for Halloween?” Ashley asked as they pulled out of the Walmart parking lot. “My brother’s already got the hair cut - or lack thereof - and you’re giving me Kevin vibes.” 

Lilac frowned. “I don’t know whether I should be insulted or flattered.” 

“Both,” Ashley said. “But maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m a Nick…” 

***

🍒 la fin 🍒

lol if you couldn’t tell, this was based on this Tik Tok... lee showed it to me and it uhhh I was inspired, as you can see hehe

Anyway, there’s the first extra! We hope you enjoyed... We’re a little late today sldkfjds sorry about that BUT we hope you liked it anyway!!! If you wanna be a gem, tell if you’ve ever kissed a girl in front of watched a movie from a RedBox here! Or tell us anything!!! Feedback is much appreciated 😊

See you on Saturday! 

#writing #writeblr #writblr #fluff #tik tok #creative writing #oc #ocs #WIP #WIPS #extras #cherry tree #jonas brothers #tom holland #spies in disguise #scooby doo #words

[eversoslinky]

Who created Jessica Rabbit?

The ultimate male fantasy in the form of a cartoon. Gravity defying hour glass curves and legs that go on for years, Jessica Rabbit is an icon and one of my happiest childhood memories was sitting on my Auntie's sofa and watching "Who framed Rodger Rabbit?" the film itself impressed me because it merged cartoons and real life together. Nothing impressed me more, (maybe except the scene in the Wizard of Oz when everything turns to Technicolor.) The film itself and the story didn't hold my attention ,however the gorgeous red haired lady did.

I wanted to BE Jessica Rabbit, still do. In fact she's my Halloween costume this year. I think if I look beyond the obvious the reason I love Jessica so much is because she's a married lady, she loves her husband. I'm a hopeless romantic who aspires to meet the one man to share my life with. But also I love the idea of being sexy, so sultry and inviting to men and women and then... when they get too keen on me on push them away... and purrr in a husky Scarlett Johansson/ Lauren Bacall tone. "Sorry, but I'm marrrrried... I lurrrrve my husband." She's the ultimate burlesque performer and yet she doesn't remove a single iteam of clothing... her sex appeal is obvious in her appearance and that's what I love. There is no little giggle, no cuteness she's pure, one hundred percent vamp. In this blog I am going to explore and celebrate an absolute icon.

The first time you see Jessica she slinks on stage in a gorgeous sparkling red gown, which is probably the outfit Rita Hayworth would of worn in Gilda back in 1946 had the censors of allowed it. (That spilt on the side of her dress is so high!) The way Jessica moves on stage and performs reminds me of Cameron Diaz in The Mask. (Maybe this inspired her role as a nightclub singer at the Coco Bongo club) Of course I love the fact she sings "Why don't you do right?" Which was originally sung by Peggy Lee as she strides across the stage. Four year old me was watching this going "This is who I want to be when I grow up"

But who created this absolutely beautiful cartoon ? She was the brain child of an animation team, Gary K. Wolf, Richard Williams and Robert Zemeckis. With each adding bits of their favourite movie stars to create a hybrid of the ultimate bombshell. Personally I think Jessica's body is very Jayne Mansfield. That massive chest can only be compared to one real life human woman and seeing Jayne wiggle down the street in "The girl can't help it" I think, could of been one of Jessica's design muses. However... here are the original Hollywood icons who inspired Jessica.

All the best female cartoon characters have red hair! How beautiful is the little mermaid? Jessica's whole look was supposed to be modelled on Rita or maybe just Rita's character Gilda. Gilda was a nightclub singer/ slight striptease artist (Who only removes one glove, but removes it in such an incredibly sexual way that that one glove is enough!) Perhaps this inspired Jessica's costume of elbow length gloves? (Who knows?) The ultimate pin up girl and force's sweetheart was definitely inspiration for the animation team who drew Jessica Rabbit but she was one of many women who's beauty inspired the team...

A little known fact about Jessica Rabbit is her predecessor... "Hot red riding hood" another curvy redhead who made her first appearance in 1943. Another Night club singer HRRH was another cartoon babe to steal the show. However, HRRH, I feel needs a blog all of her own so let's return to her another day and focus on Mrs Rabbit...

I just love Veronica Lake! I love the fact she was only 5ft 2 and weighed just over seven stone she was so sexy and vampish but also tough! Why am I not surprised they used her likeness to create Jessica Rabbit?! That peek-a-boo hairstyle is absolute genius, not being able to see half the face adds mystery and allure to a person... It's like a burlesque show only done with hair not clothes. As Veronica herself once famously said "I never did cheesecake like Betty Grable, I just used my hair." And who needs to remove clothes when you have a face like Veronica? (The picture I've used on this blog I have on my bedroom wall) She's got perfectly high cheekbones and a lovely heart shaped face with the most narrow part being her mouth, jaw and chin.

Ingrid Bergman was a Swedish actress who came to Hollywood, they tried (like they did with many others) to change everything about her to make her into their idea of a movie star, she refused. If they didn't want her the just way she was she would simply move back home (Taking her trained stage acting talents with her). I just adore her! What an awesome lady! Could you imagine an actress today being told she's "too tall?!" Ingrid was 5ft 9, but some high heels on her and she'd be over 6ft but she was perfect and carried herself with such elegance and poise. Watch any on her films and check out that stride! I think Jessica Rabbit's statuesque frame was definitely inspired by Ingrid. So what if a leading lady is taller than her leading man? As a stage actress Ingrid sure knew how to carry herself.

"What about that look, that look Lauren Bacall had?" Said Robert Zemeckis during a brain storming session when drawing Jessica for the first time. Those sexy heavy lidded eyes and that pout, that dark alluring quality that gives away absolutely nothing and puts you in your place at the same time. That's Lauren 's look, the ultimate femme fatale, it kind of keeps you guessing... is this woman good or is she a villain? Or can it be possible for a woman to look like one of the bad guys but be really sweet with a heart of gold? How did Lauren create that signature stare? Well, apparently during the filming of "To have and have not" she would get so nervous she would shake(!) Lauren was a strong confident woman off camara but when she was being filmed she would get anxious. The only way to stop the shaking (and hold the ever present cigarette to her lips in a effortless manner) was to tilt her chin down to her chest slightly and look up. Creating the sexy Bacall look we know and love today.

Vikki Dougan, a name you may not of heard of. Unless you follow me, Eversoslinky over on Instagram. (I like to acknowledge the forgotten stars of Hollywood) Vikki was an unknown actress during the 1950s who used to crash Hollywood parties, when I first saw pictures of her I just had to post them, she's so unknown and under the radar and yet her fashion sense inspired one of our most loved cartoon characters- Jessica Rabbit. Those gorgeous backless dresses are just mindblowlingly fantastic and pretty daring considering they were worn during the 1950s (!) It's been some great debate as to which actress inspired Jessica Rabbit the most, with some people refusing to acknowledge Vikki as she never "hit the big time" or "made any popular movies" never the less she was a party girl and gained many column inches during her time, she was a style icon who I believe should be celebrated as the woman who influenced Jessica Rabbit's body con backless dress.

I have many more pictures I'd love to post on this blog but unfortunately Tumblr won't let me post anymore... apparently the number is ten and I've hit my limit (!) ... Sorry people but then again... NOT sorry cause it ain't my fault!... All that's left to say now is Jessica Rabbit is a cultural icon and who knows? maybe if we are really lucky she might appear again in another film. Until then I will start working on my tribute to her. The next time someone asks you who inspired Jessica Rabbit, you won't reply back with "Veronica Lake" but with "Rita, Veronica, Lauren, Ingrid and Vikki" cause they all have features that have made up the greatest cartoon of all time. xoxo 💋

[idasessions]

Famous Muses & Girlfriends in Filmmaking Pt. 7

MUSE: Ingrid Bergman

Ingrid was born on August 29th, 1915 in Stockholm, Sweden to a Swedish father and a German mother. She grew up back-and-forth between Sweden and Germany, and was bizarrely cursed with tragedy in her childhood. When she was 2 years old her mother died, and only 11 years later her father died as well. Ingrid was then sent to live with one of her aunts who then also died 6 months after she moved in. She then finally lived with another aunt, uncle and cousins when she received a scholarship to attend the Royal Dramatic Theatre School in Stockholm. Though her dad apparently always wanted her to be a singer, Ingrid said she knew very early on that acting was her natural passion. By the time she was 17, Ingrid was acting in local plays and films, and successfully crossed over to Hollywood when she was 22. Her iconic studio films include both the Swedish and Hollywood versions of Intermezzo (1936 and ’39), Casablanca (1942), The Bells of St. Mary’s (1945), Cactus Flower (1969) and Autumn Sonata (1978). Ingrid’s not only considered one of the most beautiful actresses in film history, but also one of the most talented. She won three Academy Awards throughout her career—two for Best Actress with Gaslight (1944) and Anastasia (1956), and one for Best Supporting Actress with Murder on the Orient Express (1974). Her final performance in the TV movie A Woman Named Golda (1982) earned her a Best Actress Emmy too. Ingrid was impressively fluent in five languages: Swedish, German, English, Italian and French.

Ingrid was not only a favorite of film critics and viewers, but also her male co-stars and film directors. She supposedly had love affairs with leading men including Gregory Peck, Gary Cooper and Anthony Quinn. She was a creative muse to multiple filmmakers during the studio system era as well, most famously Alfred Hitchcock. The two collaborated on the hit thrillers Spellbound (1945) and Notorious (1946), plus Under Capricorn (1949). Up until he met Grace Kelly, Ingrid was Hitch’s favorite blonde leading lady and source for cinematic inspiration. Though it was obvious Hitch was attracted to her, Ingrid never let their relationship reach beyond professional. (Yet Hitch did famously embellish a story of how Ingrid begged him to kiss her, lol.) Ingrid’s relationship with photographer Robert Capa also inspired Hitch’s classic movie Rear Window (1954). Until their deaths, the actress and director were on friendly terms and spoke highly of each other.

Ingrid’s first affair with one of her directors ended up being married, middle-aged MGM heavyweight Victor Fleming. Victor and Ingrid first worked together on Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde (1941), but officially began seeing each other romantically during the turbulent production of Joan of Arc (1948). The movie was nearly a decade in the making and a dream role of Ingrid’s. While the pair had their equally stormy affair, Victor would apparently shower her with love notes and gifts, while at the same time being his typical brash, casually misogynistic self. Ingrid fortunately received a fourth Best Actress Oscar nomination for Joan, and Victor died that same year of a heart attack, allegedly still in love with Ingrid.

For the first 15 years of her career, Ingrid was married to Swedish dentist-turned-neurosurgeon Petter Lindström. Their marriage came to an infamously scandalous end when Ingrid left him for Italian director Roberto Rossellini in 1950. Roberto and Ingrid had an affair during filming of their first movie Stromboli, and Ingrid later discovered she was pregnant with their son Robin. The same month the baby was born, Ingrid divorced Petter and married Roberto while in Mexico. The scandal killed her glamorous public image in America, and she was shunned into returning to Europe. Ingrid and Petter’s daughter Pia, then age 12, later revealed it took her years to emotionally accept that her mother left home so abruptly. Though her personal life was a mess, Ingrid did successfully pen a creative partnership with Roberto for the next 7 years, and she was his female lead in critical hits like Europa ’51 (1952) and Journey to Italy (1954). They also conceived twin daughters Isotta and Isabella, born in 1952 (with Isabella achieving her own success as a model, actress and film muse). The couple divorced in 1957 when Roberto met his future third wife Sonali Gupta. Soon after, Ingrid and Pia reunited for the first time since the divorce from Petter.

Ingrid’s successful Hollywood comeback would be Anastasia, and continued into the 1970s with both American and foreign films. She died on her 67th birthday in ‘82 of breast cancer and is survived by her four children and grandchildren.

#Ingrid Bergman #muses #alfred hitchcock #Victor Fleming #roberto rossellini #man i was really hoping the tags bug would be fixed by tonight lol #oh well #the yahoo autolink is annoying too #musesandgroupiesseries

[aion-rsa]

Raiders of the Lost Ark and the Many Influences of Indiana Jones

https://ift.tt/38Z54Pj

When Raiders of the Lost Ark was released in 1981, it was like a jolt of lightning from out of the past. As with George Lucas’ Star Wars before it, here was a throwback to many of the cinematic touchstones high and low that Baby Boomers grew up with: Saturday morning serials, prestige Oscar winners from yesteryear, and even boys’ pulp magazines were sifted through, borrowed from, and recontextualized into one of the most thrilling action-adventure movies anyone had ever seen. Somehow Lucas, who was a producer on the project, director Steven Spielberg, and the whole Indiana Jones team were able to craft a movie simultaneously retro and new.

Of course the younger generations who were swept up in Indy’s adventures may not have noticed any of this. They were here to see Indy outrun a boulder. And as the years have passed, Raiders of the Lost Ark and the whole Indiana Jones trilogy has become its own influential touchstone, passed from one era to the next. But for that very reason, it’s fun to revisit where this now seminal classic in its own right came from 40 years later, and how it’s kept Hollywood traditions alive well into the next century.

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

The first of several Michael Curtiz movies that will appear on the list, The Adventures of Robin Hood offers subtle influence on Raiders of the Lost Ark. And you can see it clearly in the scenes set at Marion Ravenwood’s bar in Nepal. First Indy enters the establishment by casting a large, heroic shadow on the wall; the sequence then relies on yet more shadows as the Nazis follow suit, projecting a looming darkness across the room; finally the scene ends with Indiana Jones shooting one of those baddies, and audiences only see the Nazi’s shadow die.

This is all inspired by Curtiz’s famous use of shadowed silhouettes during the climactic sword fight between Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone in the best Robin Hood movie.

Busby Berkeley Musicals

The musical sequence that opens Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is centered around the song “Anything Goes,” which was written for Cole Porter’s 1934 stage musical of the same name. It was adapted into a 1936 Paramount Pictures spectacle starring Bing Crosby and Ethel Merman, however the way Spielberg stages the Temple of Doom sequence has more in keeping with 1930s musicals choreographed and/or directed by Busby Berkeley at Warner Bros.

As the filmmaker who pioneered the imagery of dozens of dancers and showgirls forming elaborate geometric patterns and kaleidoscopic shapes, Berkeley relied on complex overhead shots filmed from cranes. Eventually such elaborate staging fell out of favor in lieu of singular song and dance pairings like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers later in the decade, but in his time Berkeley was responsible for famed dance sequences in 42nd Street (1933), Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935), Footlight Parade (1933), and Stage Struck (1936). Spielberg obviously wanted to pay homage.

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard play with horses at the Encino ranch in 1939.

Carole Lombard

Less a direct cinematic influence than a source for characterization, Carole Lombard’s on and off-screen image as a tough-as-nails glamour girl was written into Marion Ravenwood. The character was of course eventually played with her own spark by Karen Allen, but Spielberg and company originally looked toward screwball comedy star Lombard for inspiration during the writing and casting stage. Spielberg even said about Allen that “Karen was the clear favorite because she had spunk and was a firebrand, and she reminded me of ‘30s women. She had that Irene Dunne and Carole Lombard [energy]. She seemed perfect for the part.”

Lombard is a particularly interesting comparison because the ‘30s and ‘40s actor got her start in Hollywood as a starlet who appeared in drawing room dramas, but then carved her path to stardom by playing fast-talking women in Ernst Lubitsch and Howard Hawks comedies, with the latter urging her to carry her own off-screen persona into her characters. Athletic, foul-mouthed, and able to keep up in terms of drink with the men in her life, she brought as much of that into her comedies as censors would allow. Also, perhaps coincidentally, her tragic death in a plane crash drove her husband Clark Gable into World War II with an alleged death wish, which somewhat mirrors a plot point in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Casablanca (1942)

As yet another Michael Curtiz film, the impact of Casablanca is all over the Indiana Jones movies. A sweeping love story and terrific World War II melodrama filmed during the actual war, Casablanca is generally considered the best movie produced under normal circumstances during Hollywood’s Golden Age. It’s thus an easy touchstone for Spielberg, who emulates many ideas from the picture.

Likely the most noticeable is how both movies communicate international travel while filming on a backlot. Casablanca is not the first movie to show a map onscreen and then draw a moving line across it, which is then juxtaposed alongside international stock footage, but it’s the most famous movie to do so. You can see Casablanca’s influence every time Indy got on a plane, boat, or submarine.

Additionally, much of the relationship between Indy and Marion feels partially inspired by the wounded romance in Casablanca. While, as indicated above, there is not necessarily a lot of Ingrid Bergman’s Ilsa in Marion, Ilsa’s embittered bad blood with Rick (Humphrey Bogart) after a failed relationship is an obvious influence on Indy and Marion. Indeed, Allen’s first line to Ford in Raiders is “Indiana Jones, I always knew you’d come walking back through my door.” It seems a blatant riff on Rick saying, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

Gunga Din (1939)

The plot and much of the imagery in Temple of Doom is lifted nearly top to bottom from George Stevens’ Gunga Din, including many of the elements now cited as problematic in both pictures. In Gunga Din, audiences follow Cary Grant, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., and Victor McLaglen as a trio of British officers in 19th century British India. Over the course of the film, Grant’s Sgt. Cutter and his Indian sidekick Gunga Din (Sam Jaffe) discover a secret Thuggee cult, even though the religious order was thought to be extinct. Worse for the colonial powers, the Thuggee intend to expel British rule by following a fanatical, human sacrificing leader (Eduardo Ciannelli) to war.

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Almost all of the second Indy movie’s story about a hidden temple with an Indian cult leader who tortures white heroes comes from Gunga Din, as do several set-pieces and gags. Like Temple of Doom, Grant and Jaffee’s characters struggle with an elephant transporting them through the countryside, and much of the third act pivots around a rope bridge in which Thuggee followers are trapped as the ropes are broken, leaving the fanatics flal to their deaths.

It should be noted Thuggee gangs, which were said to practice ritualistic murder as a part of highway robberies, did probably exist in 17th and 18th century India, although they did not scheme for world domination, nor did they rip hearts from victims’ bodies. Some modern Indian scholars have argued their alleged religious practices were exaggerated or invented by the British authorities who used propaganda while stamping out 18th century gangs.

James Bond Movies

It’s no secret that 007 was a major influence on Indiana Jones. Spielberg originally wanted to make a James Bond movie in the 1970s. After Eon Productions turned him down—so as not to relinquish creative control to the new popular director of Jaws—Lucas pitched his buddy on the concept of what became Indiana Jones.

Elements of Bond still found their way into the Indy movies. Each film is a standalone adventure, and at least three out of four of them follow a rhythmic pattern where after an opening sequence shows the tail-end of Dr. Jones’ previous adventure, we return to his day-to-day life back home. Authority figures then arrive to assign his next quest. Also during all three of the original Indiana Jones movies, Indy had a new love interest from the start.

The influence is so blatant for Spielberg that he came up with the idea of introducing Indiana Jones’ father in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade… and having him played by Spielberg’s favorite 007, Sean Connery.

King Solomon’s Mines (1950)

Indiana Jones is unquestionably influenced by Alan Quartermain. Whether intentional or not, most fedora-wearing adventurers and great white hunters of western fiction derive from this 1885 literary creation by author Henry Rider Haggard. So the question, then, is which version of Quartermain most directly influenced Spielberg and Lucas? While perhaps the 1937 movie adaptation produced by the Rank Organization (more on them below) was on Lucas’ mind given his nod to the company in Temple of Doom, the most famous iteration of Quartermain’s adventure in King Solomon’s Mines for Baby Boomers comes from a 1950 MGM movie released during Lucas and Spielberg’s youth.

That picture starred Stewart Granger as Quartermain, a white hunter living in what would become South Africa during the 19th century. There his services are requested by an English noble to retrieve his missing brother from the mysterious African interior and to find the legendary mines belonging to biblical figure King Solomon (sound familiar?). The 1950 film made plenty of changes, such as adding a female love interest for Quartermain and reducing the prominence of any black African characters in the already racist Victorian novel to even more primitive stereotypes. It also hasn’t aged particularly well. But it’s probably the closest to a “definitive” cinematic variation on the first adventure novel which created the concept of a “lost civilization” with connections to the Bible, a theme which Indiana Jones would return to time and again.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

As the beloved epic from most older Baby Boomers’ childhoods, David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia is a gargantuan spectacle unlike any other. Filmed in breathtaking 70mm and in the actual deserts traversed by T.E. Lawrence, its visuals are still astonishing 60 years later. Particularly since they really went to those places.

Spielberg attempts to homage that mythical quality repeatedly in the Indiana Jones movies. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy standing tall in the low light of a sunset as workers excavate the Well of Souls visibly emulates the majesty of Peter O’Toole’s Lawrence standing atop a train as men cheer his backlit silhouette. More directly, the final image of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is a pure reversal of the most magnificent sunrise you’ve ever seen. In Lawrence of Arabia, Lean captures the sun slowly unfurling over Arabia’s dunes before Lawrence and a companion travel across the sand. In Last Crusade, Indy and multiple companions ride directly into a sunset, which recreates the famous Lawrence of Arabia shot.

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Arguably the first film noir ever made, The Maltese Falcon made Bogie a star and John Huston an A-list director. It also is a smaller influence on Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Maltese Falcon begins as a murder mystery before giving way to a larger plot in which a sordid collection of gangsters and criminals fight over a MacGuffin called the Maltese Falcon. Alleged to be an ancient, bejeweled prize from antiquity hidden beneath a common-looking facade, men kill and die for it as it’s passed back and forth, a la the Ark of the Covenant.

At the end of the movie, it’s revealed the Maltese Falcon is actually a fake—a forgery made from graphite. While the MacGuffins are a lot more powerful in the Indiana Jones movies, the idea of a magnificent ancient prize driving men mad carries over from The Maltese Falcon, and both Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Last Crusade riff on the reversal, with the Nazis initially finding only dust in the opened ark in Raiders, and the villain of Last Crusade being fooled into thinking the Holy Grail would be made of gold and covered in jewels.

Plus, Peter Lorre’s slimy and giggling depiction of the character Joel Cairo in this movie (as well as several others) appears to be an inspiration for the Nazi played by Ronald Lacey in Raiders.

The Man With No Name Trilogy

Sergio Leone’s seminal Spaghetti Western trilogy—which includes A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965), and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)—were a significant inspiration for Spielberg when he first imagined Indiana Jones’ personality. While there’s more than a hint of Humphrey Bogart to how Harrison Ford plays Indy, there’s also a darker menace, particularly in his first outing. During Spielberg, Lucas, and screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan’s famed story conference for Raiders, the transcripts of which have been saved for posterity, Spielberg name drops a lot of influences for Indy’s personality, including Toshirô Mifune, who starred in multiple Japanese movies directed by Akira Kurosawa. He also mentions Clint Eastwood’s Man with No Name.

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In truth, the Man with No Name is directly inspired by Mifune’s samurai in Yojimbo (1961), but we felt the final allusions in Raiders more overtly leaned toward Leone’s Westernized interpretation of the desperado. You can see it in the first scene when we’re introduced to Indiana Jones through a series of rapidly edited together close-ups of an enemy drawing a pistol, Indy’s whip (as opposed to his own revolver), and finally an extreme close-up of Indy’s eyes, shaded beneath a fedora, as he steps into frame while disarming a foe. It’s Spielberg’s version of countless Leone shootouts starring Eastwood. To further accentuate the influence, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is filmed in the same Spanish desert as The Good, the Bad and the Ugly when Indy and his father travel to a fictional Middle Eastern country on their quest.

The Rank Organization Logo

A small nod occurs at the top of Temple of Doom when the Paramount Pictures logo turns into an engraving of a mountain on a Chinese gong that is soon rang in. This is an overt homage to the opening title card of movies produced by the British film studio the Rank Organization, which began with a man also hitting a gong. The studio produced early Hitchcock classics like The Lady Vanishes (1938) and seminal ballet ghost story, The Red Shoes (1948). We imagine Lucas and Spielberg were winking at some of Rank’s pulpier material though, like the first adaptation of King Solomon’s Mines (1937).

Republic During the 1930s-1950s

Admittedly, I’m no expert on the weekly serials that ran in movie houses each Saturday morning during the 1930s, ’40s, and ’50s. However, George Lucas clearly is since they visibly informed Star Wars as much as Indy, what with interstellar adventures like Commander Cody. On the other side of the paradigm there were a cornucopia of mid-20th century Republic serials about adventurers and masked superheroes fighting Nazis that clearly made an impact. One that seems like a specifically heavy influence is Secret Service in Darkest Africa, a Republic serial from 1943 which despite its title is set in a largely lily-white Casablanca (original, ain’t it?).

Over the course of its week-to-week adventures, American secret agent Rex Bennett (Rod Cameron) infiltrates the Third Reich by posing as a Nazi officer in the SS. However, his cover is blown when he goes to Africa to beat the Nazis from discovering an ancient Muslim Tomb which is said to have a scroll that will tell “the Muslims” how to fight in World War II (yep). With incidents like Rex out-swimming German boats to impersonating German personnel, it all has an air of Indy.

Another serial with special consideration is Republic’s Zorro’s Fighting Legion (1939). One of the more popular serials from the FDR years, this classic more than any film I’ve seen likely inspired Lucas for emphasizing Indy’s bullwhip. As with the opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark, Zorro uses his whip to disarm foes, swing out windows, and even escape an avalanche. But the stunt that most clearly inspired Indy is a scene where Zorro falls between the horses and under the wheels of a stagecoach, hanging by his trusty fingers. He then catches the back of the carriage and climbs on top to reach the driver’s seat. It’s spectacular, as seen in the above clip, and more or less taken whole cloth for the same stunt from Raiders.

Secret of the Incas (1954)

I’m not sure if Lucas ever publicly spoke about Secret of the Incas, but this Paramount Pictures pulp had a heavy, heavy influence on Raiders of the Lost Ark. Like the Indiana Jones movies, the filmmakers behind it were clearly big fans of The Treasure of Sierra Madre (more below). Also like Indy, they took it in a decidedly more Saturday morning direction. A young Charlton Heston stars in this movie as Harry Steele, a fedora-wearing, leather jacket sporting, adventurer who is after fortune and glory, kid. Fortune and glory. When Harry gets wind that some dastardly archeologists are on a dig down in Peru, having discovered a lost ancient kingdom, Harry gets the bright idea of sneaking onto their dig site and stealing a golden sunburst right out from under them.

Sounds familiar, eh? It’s nowhere near as exciting as Indy, but the basic framework about a gold-seeking cad in a fedora fighting rivals over a buried, priceless MacGuffin is all from here, complete with a love interest who is wooed by Harry’s rival.

Ursula Andress in She (1965), Hammer Studios’ campy adaptation.

She (1887)

This 1887 novel by H. Rider Haggard is considered one of the first and most influential adventure yarns ever written. It’s also an incredibly racist work authored by a Victorian Englishman who spent seven years living in South Africa, making it a prime example of what’s now dubbed “imperialist literature.” Nonetheless, it influenced many other authors, including Rudyard Kipling, J.R.R. Tolkien, Graham Greene, and others who’s work, in turn, influenced Indiana Jones.

She is worth separating from Haggard’s other most popular novel, King Solomon’s Mines, because unlike that story, there was never really a definitive film adaptation of this book. However, Merian C. Cooper of King Kong fame (also an adherent to Haggard’s adventure stories) attempted an Art Deco interpretation of the text in 1935.

In the original story, readers follow the adventures of Horace Holly, the ward of explorer Leo Vincey. Together they discover a lost city in the African interior in which primitive natives worship an immortal white woman whom they refer to as “She Who Must Be Obeyed.” In fact, she is so beautiful that any man becomes her slave after one look into her eyes. Curiously, the Indiana Jones movie which most emulates this is Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, in which a lost “kingdom” hidden in the Amazonian jungle is protected by primitive natives who worship, if not a white woman goddess, then crystal skulls and the godlike alien beings they belong to. Also if you look into those crystal skulls’ eyes for too long…

The Treasure of Sierra Madre (1948)

Reportedly Huston’s favorite collaboration with Bogie, The Treasure of Sierra Madre is the most influential work on Indiana Jones’ appearance and devil-may-care attitude. This post-war picture stars Bogart as Fred C. Dobbs, a fedora-wearing, hard-drinking, malcontent who becomes obsessed with finding buried treasure. Also prone to wearing a nice weathered leather jacket, Dobbs is a nastier piece of work than Indy. When we meet Dobbs, he’s a drunk with a violent temper. After he and business partners discover gold up on the Sierra Madre mountain, he becomes consumed by greed and ultimately attempts to murder his only friend. He also challenges bandits to a shootout to protect his prize, which eventually results in his death.

Indy never goes so far—which may be why he doesn’t end up getting macheted. But Ford’s visage, as well as the world weary grumpiness he reserves for Belloq or his father, is taken straight from life up on the Sierra Madre.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[wellspringcounseling]

At the end of each year, to great fanfare, Oxford Dictionaries selects its “word of the year”—a word or expression that has generated a large amount of attention in the culture over the preceding twelve months. And, while we’re only a few months into the new year, it seems a good bet that gaslighting—a term first coined way back in 1938—will emerge as a strong contender in 2017.

While those of us in the psychology field have long been aware of the phrase, it’s only recently started to appear with regularity in the culture at large, becoming especially prominent during the election. Gaslighting, essentially, refers to a form of manipulation, a psychological means of controlling somebody—most often wielded by narcissists, abusive partners, dictators and cult leaders—that causes the victim to question their own sanity. The process often happens gradually, but eventually progresses to the point where the victim can no longer trust their own perceptions or beliefs, often leading to isolation, depression, anxiety, and increased dependence on the manipulator. However, the reason the term is gaining increased relevance this year is not because of a rise in narcissists or abusive partners in our society. Rather, it’s because some concerned citizens—psychologists, doctors, and historians among them—fear our entire body politic is currently at risk of being gaslighted by those in power.

The phrase itself originated with a 1938 play, Gaslight, which was later turned into a film in 1944, starring Charles Boyer and Ingrid Bergman. It tells the tale of a nefarious husband, after his new wife’s jewels, who attempts to drive her crazy in order to have her institutionalized. He deploys various techniques to achieve this end, most notably by dimming and raising the gas lights in their home and then, when questioned about it, denying any such change had occurred, suggesting it must be a figment of her imagination. Over time, his manipulative tactics work: the wife begins to doubt herself and, eventually, her own grip on reality.

In modern times, those attempting to gaslight us—consciously or not—usually adhere to a fairly predictable playbook. Taken as a whole, their tactics might appear rather obvious in retrospect. But remember, gaslighting doesn’t happen overnight; it’s a slow, gradual process aimed at steadily eroding our own sense of confidence and stability, leaving us vulnerable to manipulation. Anyone can be susceptible to gaslighting, no matter their personality, intelligence, income level, or family background. As such, it’s become increasingly vital that we learn to identify it when it’s happening. Awareness is key: if we know the signs, we can know what to look for—and then label it for what it is rather than succumbing to it.

How the Gaslighter Works

A gaslighter is often enormously charismatic or charming, a crucial first step in gaining your trust, loyalty, or affection. Soon, though, the lying begins—the bigger and more outrageous, the better. This is perhaps the most important tool in gaslighting, because it establishes a precedent and, repeated often enough, begins to make you question your own perception of events. If you catch the gaslighter in a lie, they usually won’t admit to it; in fact, they’ll often blatantly deny they ever said or did such a thing (“That never happened”, “You’re making that up”, “It’s all in your head”). Again, the goal here is to make you uncertain of yourself, gradually eroding your sense of confidence and stability over time. Quite simply, they are looking to sow confusion, knowing that the less confident you are, the weaker and more afraid you’ll feel, which gives them increasing power over both you and your reality.

As confusion sets in, the gaslighter often moves quickly to further isolate or disorient you. In addition to lying and denying, they begin trying to supplant your reality with their own. They become dismissive of your version of the truth, attempt to discredit those that support you or your views as liars, minimize your reactions as over-sensitivity or an inability to take a joke, and at times even directly question your very sanity (in essence, to paraphrase a famous Groucho Marx line, “Who are you gonna believe, me or your lying eyes?”).

The net effect of all of these behaviors can be devastating, especially in a relationship. Those subjected to gaslighting can fall into a state of perpetual confusion, depression, anxiety, or resignation. The constant onslaught of emotional abuse takes its toll, leaving the victim feeling stuck, hopeless, and dependent on their abuser.

How to Heal

Thankfully, though, there are ways to stop the cycle, and heal the wounds it has caused. First and foremost is becoming aware of what is happening, and naming it, even if only to yourself initially. Once you’ve learned what gaslighting is—how it works and what its effects can be—then you can begin to reclaim your voice, confidence, and sanity.

Here are a few ways to start:

Trust your intuition. Listen to your own gut feelings. A gaslighter wants you to lose faith in yourself, because that means you’ll be more likely to give up control. But by continually checking in with—and believing—yourself, they won’t be able to undermine your reality.

Limit engagement and conversations with gaslighters If you have to engage with someone who you feel is gaslighting you, keep the conversation short, and consider using phrases like “I’m not comfortable with you telling me what my experience is”, “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree”, or “I don’t like how this conversation is going, and need to take a break.”

Practice self-compassion Quite often, those being gaslighted begin to blame themselves for the situation, or feel as if they somehow deserve it. However, this is never the case (in fact, it’s actually part of the gaslighting). Be kind to yourself, practice good self-care, and always remember that you deserve respect and/or love from those around you.

Build a strong support system. Talk with trusted friends, loved ones, or a therapist about the situation. Be open and honest about what’s going on, and enlist their support.

[theliterateape]

As Vegas Re-opens, The Old Scams Are the Best Scams

by Don Hall

With every potential crisis or societal upheaval there will always be those happy few who see each one as an opportunity to fleece the rest of us rubes. I remember in late 1999 the hucksters promising software to prevent Y2K from ending the computing world — for a fee, of course. I recall the snake oil types selling “pieces of the Twin Towers” days after 9/11 as well as loads of tiny American flags.

This isn’t anything new. There will always be the shysters using tragedy or spectacle to make a buck, to scam those who have enough to be easily fooled. Scams are as American as baseball, apple pie, and structural racism.

The pandemic has its unique set of grifters, selling poorly made face masks, faulty COVID tests, and even our glorious Commander-in-Chief trying to pump up some of his stock by touting malaria medication as the cure-all.

In Vegas, we’re a little more used to the swindle given Vegas is built upon its very own set of flimflam designed to distract you with booze, neon, and tits so you lose the mortgage on your house chasing a hand pay.

✶

Attached to the casino is a Days Inn hotel. It’s not high end but it’s clean. After two and a half months of deep cleaning, painting, and regular fumigation, it’s really clean.

When I get called to the room to handle a “guest opportunity” (casino code for “problem to be solved involving tact”) and the guest in question stands in his doorway, complaining that his room has bed bugs, the whiff of bullshit wafts into the desert air.

“This door can’t be locked from the inside. This is unacceptable. And I laid down to take a nap and there are bed bugs. I used to be a health inspector so I know bed bugs when I see them. Look at this door lock. It can’t be locked, you see? I can’t believe this. It’s terrible to come to a hotel and not be able to lock the door and also lay down for a nap and get bitten by bed bugs...”

The hotel is only 30% capacity due to COVID restrictions so I know we have plenty of empty rooms. I listen and give him no reaction (easy with the mask on). He’s very upset. I ascertain that he has paid with reward points so a partial refund isn’t going to work. 

“Let’s move you to another room. We have rooms that have been deep cleaned and fumigated and have been sealed since, so we’ll move you to one of those. Sound alright to you?”

“Can I get a suite?”

There we go. “Let me check if one is available. I’ll be right back.”

A suite is available. My gut tells me that now, having been given a taste, he’s going to see how far he can push it and I’m right.

“It’s a suite, right? And I’m not being charged for it, right? I’m staying for three nights. I won’t have to pay for them now, correct? I mean, this is horrible to have bed bugs. I’d hate to put this kind of thing on social media...”

“Tell you what. For right now, let’s move you to the suite. I’ll have Eco-Lab come out this afternoon and go over the room. If they find bed bugs, I’ll be more than happy to comp your entire stay. If, however, they do not find any trace of bed bugs, we’ll charge you for the upgrade today as well as the remainder of your stay at the suite rate. Sound fair?”

He starts to protest and I hold up my hand as I speed dial Eco-Lab. “Hey. We have a complaint of bed bugs in Room 601. Can you send somebody over today to do a sweep? Yes. Just looking for confirmation of infestation. If there’s no infestation, the guest was mistaken and that will influence further charges. Thanks.”

The next day, I find out he has used his story to get a free meal and asked for another free night because his remote control wasn’t working in the suite. Eco-Lab had come and gone leaving me a detailed notification. Results? No bed bugs. As promised, he is charged for the full deal. I even charged him for the meal.

The game is actually very simple.

- Have in mind your endgame. What is it you want out of your ruse? - Over-dramatize the injury. Warm up with small inconveniences then bring out the True Injury. The more aggrieved you are, the more visible pain you can demonstrate, the better. - Push out beads of victim sweat and threaten to expose your victimization to other potential customers. - When the rube is ripe, go for the ask.

“Hey! HEY! Manager! Hey!” and she snaps her fingers at me.

I’m used to this at this point so I don’t get ruffled.

“I hit the Aces with the side bet and it did not pay me! This is a rip-off or a broken machine or something!”

Modern slot machines are all computer-based so I pop my key in, turn it to diagnostics, and look at the last game played. There are no Aces.

“Hmmm. It doesn’t look there were any Aces on that last play.”

“Well, I played them! Who you gonna believe, the customer or the machine? This is fucking crazy!”

I move the curser over and check the last five games. Still no Aces.

“You calling me a LIAR? This machine is racist!” and she pulls out her phone, points it at me, and starts recording.

“You gonna be on YouTube! This manager called me a liar because I had Aces and it won’t pay me. He says there wasn’t no Aces but that’s some fucking shit!”

I don’t respond. I learned a long time ago that fighting back or defending yourself in this scene is the absolute worst thing to do. I gesture to the screen.

“If you’d like to film the last five games, I’m glad to run them for you for YouTube.”

She steps in. “Don’t get in my personal space! This manager is getting on up on me and I’m not having it! Back up offa me, motherfucker!” By now, her commotion is so loud, two security officers begin to approach. I wave them off. The presence of security officers is only going to escalate this.

“What’s your name? Why won’t you tell me your name?”

“My name is Don Hall.”

“Why you so racist, Don Hall?”

I simply stand there. The less I react, the better.

She holds court, narrating her video about the racist manager and his cheating machine for about a minute. The camera is fixed on me the entire time. Like Ingrid Bergman at the end of Captains Courageous I show no emotion. No defense. No explanations. Nothing. It’s really dull YouTube fare, I figure. I’ve watched enough Public Freakout viral videos to know juicy TV from dead stick.

Finally.

“Are you gonna give me my money?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Can I get some drinks or something?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m never coming back here, you racist!”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Have a fine day!” and I begin to walk toward the exit, gesturing her in that direction.

“What? You kicking me out?”

“No, ma’am. I’m indicating to you where the exit is. If you continue to yell in the casino, I’ll ask you to leave. Should you refuse, our security will escort you off the property. You can choose to keep yelling and will no longer be allowed to stay or you can chill out and try to win some money. The choice is entirely yours.”

“This is some bullshit.”

She puts the phone away. She walks to the ATM and gets some cash. She sits down at a Buffalo slot machine and pumps in $20.00. I send over a cocktail waitress and comp her a drink. I figure $20.00 in play and the entertainment was worth a free cocktail.

✶

While annoying because one would love to trust the fellow man, I still have to kind of admire the chicanery involved and the imagination employed to truly spin that tale of nonsense in order to get something for free. I can’t blame someone for using the current fears of the day to finagle a few bucks. I could be wrong but I imagine that in 1918 there were entrepreneurs selling cures for the Spanish Flu in glass bottles and the bunk of the bunkers during the Cold War was a racket to behold.

Without the eager willingness to be taken in by so many, these Masters of the Grift would have nothing so the relationship is consensual on some plane. It’s easier now than in, say, Old Vegas. In the Vegas before corporations, the hoodwink exposed was typically met with a shallow grave in the Mojave or at least a severe beating. Vegas 2020 requires that one be aware and have a more refined bullshit detector.

✶

A call on the radio. A problem in the restaurant.

Sitting by himself, looking like the kind of guy who has been living in the desert alone and jobless for far longer than the COVID shutdown, is the meanderer. He has come in, ordered food, eaten the food, and now is giving the waitress everything from a Wine Club Card to a random hotel key for payment. Apparently, her insistence that these are not cards with which he can pay for his chow does not sit well with him.

As I approach, he is pressing a chunk of white crystal against an old CD and doing his level best at an incantation.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you able to pay your bill today?”

Never looking up from the crystal/CD thing, “Yeah. Of course. This is a fucking diamond.”

“Sir, I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure that’s no diamond.”

“Bull-fucking-SHIT! It’s a diamond.”

“OK. Fine. The restaurant doesn’t take diamonds in exchange for food. Need some cash money for that.”

He gets up and his smell hits me in the face despite my mask. He gathers up things in a backpack. He slowly does a serpentine to the cashier. He takes another random non-credit card and starts swiping it through the Boarding Pass computer (used for our casino players to redeem points for meals). “How many fucking times do I have to pay for this?” he exclaims, pointing at non-existent receipts. “There’s a receipt, there’s a receipt, there’s...”

My security officer takes his picture and informs him he is no longer welcome at any of the Wildfire properties and, should he attempt to come in, he will be arrested for trespass. He laughs.

“Great! At least I got to eat!” and he walks out the door, yells that he wants to bitchslap me, and keeps moving with an obvious strut in his step.

“Fucking freeloaders,” mutters the security officer.

“Yeah. On the other hand, he managed to scam a free meal.”

✶

In a society, regardless of which ism is at play — Capitalism, Socialism, Communism — there will always be Have Nots. There will always be that chunk of society that simply cannot make things work out in their favor. I have a grudging appreciation for those who, when the world refuses to give them a break, get creative and risky in ways that may seem skeevy but still garner them a place in the system.

The more successful con artists in America are wearing suits and live in huge homes. They scam in ways that are no different from lying about bed bugs, crying racism when power or money is desired, or consuming things without payment. The difference is scale and who is harmed by the fraud.

I only admire those large scale hucksters when they make movies about them and mostly when they’re fictional.

#Casino life

[popolitiko]

How Old Is ‘Gaslighting’? by Ben Yagoda

As Anne Curzan noted Monday in her report on the American Dialect Society’s Word of the Year, the winner in the “Most Useful/Likely to Succeed” category was gaslight, a verb defined as  to “psychologically manipulate a person into questioning their own sanity.” (Of course linguists would use singular they.)

There was immediate pushback. On the ADS email list, John Baker asked, “What is the rationale for naming ‘gaslight’…? The word has been around for decades. Did it come to some special prominence in 2016?” Arnold Zwicky chimed in: “Over seven decades, in fact. The movie that’s the source of the expression came out in 1944.”

Similarly, when I posted the winners on Facebook, my friend Pat Raccio Hughes commented, “How is that on the list? Isn’t it supposed to be new stuff?” She added that she and her husband had been using it since 1990.

The society addresses this issue in its press release on the voting: “The words or phrases do not have to be brand-new, but they have to be newly prominent or notable in the past year.” So does that apply to gaslight?

Yes, I’d say. The new prominence came from Donald Trump’s habitual tendency to say “X,” and then, at some later date, indignantly declare, “I did not say ‘X.’ In fact, I would never dream of saying ‘X.’” As Ben Zimmer, chair of the ADS’s New Words Committee and language columnist for The Wall Street Journal, pointed out, The New Republic, Salon, CNN, The Texas Observer, and Teen Vogue (“Donald Trump Is Gaslighting America”) all used the metaphor as the basis for articles about Trump.

The New York Times first used the common gerund form, gaslighting, in 1995, in a Maureen Dowd column. But there were only nine additional uses through May of last year. From June 2016 through the end of the year, the Times used gaslighting 10 times, including a Susan Dominus essay called “The Reverse-Gaslighting of Donald Trump,” which riffed on Hillary Clinton’s line in a September debate: “Donald, I know you live in your own reality.”

As so often happens when you get a lot of language observers together, the discussion shifted: from whether gaslight was newly prominent to precisely how old its verb use is. The history begins with Patrick Hamilton’s 1938 play Gas Light (known in the United States as Angel Street). It inspired a 1940 British film and the more famous 1944 American production, directed by George Cukor and starring Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotten, and Charles Boyer. (Spoiler alert.) The Boyer character tries to drive the Bergman character (his wife) crazy, notably by insisting that the gaslights in their house did not flicker, when in fact they did.

But there is no verb gaslight in Gaslight. As I noted on the ADS email list, in response to Baker and Zwicky, this use emerged some 20 years later, according to the Oxford English Dictionary. Its first citation is a sentence from a 1965 article in the magazine The Reporter: “Some troubled persons having even gone so far as to charge malicious intent and premeditated ‘gaslighting.’” The quotation marks around the word are a sign that it was a recent coinage.

Jonathan Lighter, editor of The Historical Dictionary of American Slang, responded that he had noted in the book an oral use from 1956, by a 41-year-old woman, revealed to be none other than his mother. Lighter also said he has a strong memory of the verb’s being used in an episode of I Love Lucy the same year. That set Ben Zimmer to work. He posted:

There’s a 1956 I Love Lucy episode called “Lucy Meets Charles Boyer,” in which Ricky conspires with Charles Boyer to make Lucy think that Boyer is merely a lookalike. There are obvious parallels to Gaslight, but I watched the episode here and I didn’t hear anything about “gaslighting.”

Bill Mullins replied: “I vaguely recall an episode of the The Lucy Show [a later Lucille Ball sitcom] in which gaslighting is a plot element.” Mullins went to  Google and and found a web page titled “The Ten Best THE LUCY SHOW Episodes of Season Six” (perhaps proving that there is a web page for every conceivable topic). One of the 10 was “Lucy Gets Mooney Fired,” which aired in November 1967. The web page gives a plot summary and commentary:

Lucy inadvertently gets Mooney [Gale Gordon] fired after she covers up a bank shortage. To convince Cheever [the bank president] to give Mooney his job back, Lucy gives him the Gaslight treatment.

I love how kooky this episode is WITHOUT managing to insult its audience’s intelligence. Taking a cue from Gaslight (1944), Lucy decides to make Cheever think he has gone crazy, so that he’ll agree to rehire Mr. Mooney. The script itself isn’t that funny, but the bits Lucy does to make Cheever flip are great. This is, deservedly, a fan favorite.

The estimable Zimmer wasn’t done. Consulting with Josh Chetwynd, author of Totally Scripted: Idioms, Words, and Quotes From Hollywood to Broadway That Have Changed the English Language, which has an entry on gaslight, he located and watched a 1952 episode of The Burns and Allen Show called “Grace Buying Boat for George.” (It’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it.) Zimmer wrote, “At 16:20 in the YouTube video, Harry (Fred Clark) says to Gracie, ‘Give him the gaslight treatment!’ and then explains what that means. A bit later you hear George say, ‘So they sold Gracie on the gaslight bit.’”

Still no verb, you’ll notice. Zimmer took care of that a few hours later:

Here’s an example of the verb “gaslight” in “The Grudge Match,” an episode of Gomer Pyle: USMC that aired on 12 Nov. 1965 (antedating OED’s 1969 cite for the verb, as well as the Dec. 1965 cite for the verbal noun).

Duke: You know, you guys, I’m wondering. Maybe if we can’t get through to the sarge we can get through to the chief.

Frankie: How do you mean?…

Duke: The old war on nerves. We’ll gaslight him.

Leading me to muse on the fascinating possibility that the writer of the Reporter piece heard the verb on Gomer Pyle and put it into print just a month later.

The move from sitcoms to psychotherapy occurred quickly; the OED cites a 1969 text: “It is also popularly believed to be possible to ‘gaslight’ a perfectly healthy person into psychosis by interpreting his own behavior to him as symptomatic of serious mental illness.” The term was picked up, especially in reference to abusers of spouses, partners, and children, and was commonplace by 1990, when Pat Hughes reports starting to use it. I myself first heard it the year before, when I was interviewing the 19-year-old Uma Thurman for Rolling Stone. The word was new to me, and I meant to look it up, but I never got around to it.

Update: After this post was published, Stephen Goranson announced on the ADS list that he’d found an example of gaslight as a verb which predated the Gomer Pyle use by an impressive four years. The quote actually appears in the OED, but credited to a 1969 book in which it was reprinted. The initial appearance was in Anthony F.C. Wallace’s 1961 book, Culture and Personality:

It is also popularly believed to be possible to “gaslight” a perfectly healthy person into psychosis by interpreting his own behavior to him as symptomatic of serious mental illness. While “gaslighting” itself may be a mythical crime, there is no question that any social attitude which interprets a given behavior or experience as symptomatic of a generalized incompetence is a powerful creator of shame[....]

meta4mod • a year ago

A parallel phenomenon/meme should be added. The insistence that "There are Four Lights!" comes from a Star Trek Next Generation episode in which Capt. Picard is tortured by a Cardassian. The torture can stop if Picard admits there are 5 lights instead of 4. Picard insists on the reality of 4 lights despite being tortured, but admits later, after escape, that he began to doubt how many lights there were.

EconProf meta4mod • a year ago

That's a scene straight from the movie (and book) "1984" and copied many times in Hollywood torture scenes. Star Trek's various incarnations have frequently had episodes that paid homage to movies. The classic Star Trek episode where Kirk and the Romulan captain (who later played Spock's dad) was their version of Enemy Below (Kurt Juergens and Robert Mitchum) right down to many of details (and partly redone in the movie Star Trek II (Wrath of Khan). Other episodes in Classic Star Trek were on the Enterprise redos of Twilight Zone, itself drawing on sci-fi and science fantasy short stories (such as wishing into the cornfield).

https://www.chronicle.com/blogs/linguafranca/2017/01/12/how-old-is-gaslight

#gaslights

[sadmovies]

cries and whispers (1972), dir. INGMAR BERGMAN

From a young age, I thought of Ingmar Bergman to be a real director. I did not know, in contrast, what a fake director was but only that he could not hold a candle to Bergman.

The first I ever heard of him was through a Woody Allen interview where he was cited as an artistic influence. I was immediately interested because I had just learned what the word auteur meant. I liked back then the idea of a filmmaker having complete ownership of his film. It made thinking about movies easier. I could contribute all the decisions made (cinematography, casting, etc.) to a singular vision. It was the same formula which I used for judging rap music and novels that I was reading.

At the time, the only auteurs whose movies I had studied were Charlie Chaplin and Woody Allen. There, it was obvious: they not only wrote and directed their work but also were the faces for it. However, with few exceptions, Chaplin and Allen's movies did not deal with the heavy moral themes like Bergman's did. And if they tried, it was done in a light enough approach as to not alienate the audience. I think of Modern Times intercutting scenes of Depression era poverty with slapstick humor. I think of the comedic subplot in Crimes and Misdemeanors where, in-between Martin Landau contemplating the ethics of murdering his mistress, Allen's character fumbles into a playful romance with Mia Farrow. But with Bergman, you got the feeling that he was taking the behemoth head on. Life and Death. Love. This is what it's actually like. He did not hold your hand, coddle you. He was reporting from a war zone.

I bought the Criterion DVDs of his early movies (Wild Strawberries, Seventh Seal, Smiles of a Summer Night, etc.) and watched with increased focus. This was during the first half of high school. I thought by studying these films that I was granting myself an education that was not unlike the one I got by attending classes. Bergman had something to teach me, and I was his student. To watch Bergman's work was to be confronted with such intense meaning and emotion that the "lesser" viewer would flinch away. Or, it'd register on such a level (think of the high pitched sounds only dogs can hear) that he would confuse the quiet, slow-moving pace for nothing happening at all. In reality, everything was happening. You had to tune yourself in, like a radio knob, to the frequency of the film.

Take, for instance, Cries and Whispers. The film opens with silence. The camera shows us the outdoors of a bourgeoise household. What I admire about these shots is their ability to capture the weather. You get the sense that it's chilly — a small but lasting chilliness of early spring. You see also the morning fog and the sun — newly rising — penetrating itself through it. I find that the depiction of this weather summons up an emotion from a childhood: I am maybe fourteen and have woken up on the couch in my best friend's basement. I had slept over the night before. And as his mom fixed us breakfast, my best friend and I stepped out onto his deck. I looked to the forrest in his backyard. I remember the greenness of the trees. I remember, like in the film, the fog lurking over the scenery. I remember the quietness of it all, the beauty. However, as the sun began to rise, I felt a nagging sadness in my throat. The world seemed suddenly overwhelming and indifferent. And I, a Freshman in high school, did not play as large a role in it as I previously thought. I held the foolish belief that I was important.

The sun said, "And where did you get that idea?"

I said, "I'm not sure."

The trees said, "Look at how tall we are. How tall are you?"

I said, "I think around 5'7. I'm still growing though."

The trees said, "We are taller than your entire family combined. You can grow to be ten feet and, honestly, it probably wouldn't even make a difference. We'd still be taller. Look at everything around you, and look how much of it *isn't* you. And you're worried about importance? Cry me a river."

I folded my arms, cold. My best friend was busy checking in his phone. When were the pancakes going to be ready?

I later justified this feeling of heartbreak by reminding myself that 1.) I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep and 2.) my parents were coming to pick me up and the time with my best friend would soon be over. Of course, I thought. That's why I'm emotional.

I was not yet ready for the lesson. I would not become ready until, several years later, when I checked out Cries and Whispers from the campus library. I had not seen a Bergman film since the love affair of my early teen years. I considered myself beyond Bergman, that I had conquered his work and squeezed out, like a wet washcloth, all it could offer. This is perhaps the arrogance which comes with youth. Art is never gotten. And if it is, it takes a lifetime. That same evening, I sat down and watched Bergman once more to, at the very least, feel a bit of nostalgia.

Agnes (Harriet Andersson) is dying from an illness. She is bedridden and weak. From her face the audience is made aware that she realizes that Death is close. It is only a matter of when. By her side, she has two sisters and a loyal housekeeper. They, too, are anticipating the inevitable. Agnes screams out in pain, and they look on in horror — not knowing exactly what to do. The film takes place in the not-so-distant past where there is no medication to aid Agnes. Though the sisters and housekeeper take turns monitoring her, and so there is at least one always in the bedroom, Agnes is very much alone with her suffering.

Like the weather, the family is cold. We get a flashback sequence of sister Maria (Liv Ullman) cheating on her husband with the town doctor. Though an affair, the passion between the doctor and Maria is nonexistent, which perhaps makes the act of it worse. Their judgement is not clouded. They pursue the affair with no sense of purpose. They know of the consequences but neither cares. And when Maria's husband finds out, he is driven to despair and ultimately suicide. In one of the film's darker scenes, Maria stands idly by while her husband, squirming, begs for help as he has just jammed a letter opener into his abdomen.

The other sister Karin (Ingrid Thulin) is not much better. She, too, suffers from a hatred of everything. In another flashback, she is at dinner with her husband. Karin makes desperate conversation, attempting to connect. Her husband ignores her. We get the feeling that there is a history. There have been many attempts to connect. There have been many dinners like this one. However, this dinner in particular is a climax to all the other ones. Karin, frustrated, squeezes a glass too tightly and it breaks into pieces. This prompts the husband to leave. Alone, Karin cleans up the glass shards but pockets one with a sharp edge. Later in the evening, Karin approaches her husband in their bedroom. She lies down on the bed and takes out the glass shard. She begins to mutilate her vagina, smearing the blood on her face. "You made me do this," she seems to say. "Look at what you've done."

It is the housekeeper Anna (Kari Sylwan) who we figure out is the one character of the three who does not lack a moral center. She has lost a child but yet remains religious. In her, we see the potential for a happy future. She has the ability to humble herself, unlike Maria and Karin. We see it in her walk. We see it in the way she addresses others. We see it especially with her bond with Agnes. Though Maria and Karin are psychically present to support their sister, it is only Anna who is emotionally present. There is a scene in which Agnes, in a fit of struggle, calls to Anna from her bed. Agnes asks if she smells bad. "It hurts so much," she says. Sensing her pain, Anna removes her gown. She lets Agnes lie down on her breast. By doing so, Anna is almost nursing Agnes to Death, coddling her slowly — the deed of an Angel.

It is important to note the colors. Bergman himself has said, "All my films can be thought of in terms of black and white, except Cries and Whispers." I noticed that there were three that dominated the cinematography: red, white, and black. Red, the color of passion, is representative of Life itself; black, of course, is the color of Death. White, however, is what falls in the middle of Life and Death: it is the color of the divine, the spiritual. In the scene that I just mentioned, both Anna and Agnes are wearing a stark white. This was done because Bergman is highlighting the holiness of the transaction and of Anna's character.

Watching the film, I was struck by the power of Anna'a core. It is my theory that she gains this power through her belief in the spiritual and religious - a higher realm. Bergman is stating how essential this realm is through his use of colors: there is Life (red) and Death (black) but yet there's also white, The Other: three pillars of existence. To acknowledge this higher plane is the lesson that I couldn't accept. It is what the trees tried to communicate all those years ago. I took what they had to say back then with an aftertaste of despair. I think this is the human reaction. Most of us do not wish to acknowledge the presence of anything higher than ourselves. Like the sisters, whose lives are dominated by hatred, we prefer instead to seek harmony by digging deeper and deeper into our person. The cliché turns out not to be true: happiness is not found within. Rather, it is in the process of diminishing the Ego through contact with the higher realm where we realize, half-dazed, that the Love and Meaning we've been seeking is all around us. It was right here in the present, waiting. Both Agnes and Anna had come to this conclusion long before the events of the narrative. They escaped from the family's negative influence and lived away in exile. The sisters and their husbands truck bravely forward in Life, blind: we get the impression that they are hopeless - unchanging in their ways. There is a scene where Karin, after upsetting Maria, begs for her forgiveness. She is making herself vulnerable. And for a brief moment, Maria concedes and all is well. However, any progress that is made is thrown out the window when, the next morning, Maria refuses to acknowledge the event ever happening. They are back to square one.

The final scene of the film is a flashback to the four main characters frolicking around in the backyard of their bourgeois home. As they sit on a wooden swing, Agnes, over narration, states that "all her aches and pains were gone." She is surrounded by the people who mean most to her in the world. "Come what may, this is happiness," she continues. "I could not wish for anything better. Now for a few minutes: I can experience perfection." A catharsis has been reached. I was again, sitting there, Bergman's student. I was overwhelmed but not with the indifference that I found in my best friend's backyard. No, it was with the meaning that surrounded me, the meaning in everything: Bergman was reaching out from the screen, grabbing me by the neck like Homer did Bart.

I couldn't breathe.

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