#influence of American cinema

[suchananewsblog]

Indians at the Academy Awards: From Satyajit Ray to Deepika Padukone

Come Sunday, Indian cinema is launching one of its biggest offensives ever at the Academy Awards. Naatu Naatu from S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR is up for Best Original Song; it won the Golden Globe, to frenzied jubilation everywhere, two months ago. Meanwhile, two documentaries — Shaunak Sen’s feature-length All That Breathes and Kartiki Gonsalves’s 41-minute The Elephant Whisperers— are in with a shout…

[orpheuslookingback]

100 Essential Films: Honorable Mentions

A Woman Under the Influence (1974), dir. John Cassavetes

[1cassis]

I think filming everything with your camera is inherent to american culture... How often do you see IG reels that are videos of people that seem unaware of being filmed that aren't USAn? Wonder what led to this reflex... if it's an older phenomenon has it influenced American cinema? Americans seem to used to being filmed that I rarely come across a video where they ask why they're getting their video taken

[mariocki]

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

"Things happen here about... they don't tell about. I see things. You see, they say it's just an old man talking. You laugh at an old man. There's them that laughs and knows better."

[peturnagy]

John Cassavetes and Gena Rowlands on the set of GLORIA, 1980.

[theaskew]

[renthony]

hey!! i am genuinely curious about how the catholic church helped implement the hays code, would you be able to tell me more/do you have any good reading material about it? thanks so much!!

This has been sitting in my inbox for aaaaaages, because I want to do it justice! It's actually a big facet of my research project that I'm going to go into much, much, much more depth on, but here's the short(er) summary:

The foundational text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics: a Jesuit priest named Father Daniel Lord, and a man named Martin Quigley, who was the editor of the Motion Picture Herald. They grounded their guidelines in Catholic morality and values, based on the idea that art could be a vehicle for evil by negatively influencing the actions of those who view it.

The original list of guidelines written by Lord and Quigley was adapted into the Production Code, popularly known as the "Hays Code" after William Hays, the president of the Production Code Administration that enforced it. As president of the PCA, William Hays appointed a staunch Catholic man called Joseph Breen to enforce the code. Breen enforced it aggressively, confiscating the original reels of films he deemed inappropriate and against the Code. Many lost films from this era are only "lost" because Joseph Breen personally had them destroyed. Some were rediscovered later, but many were completely purged from existence.

When Breen died in 1965, Variety magazine wrote, "More than any single individual, he shaped the moral stature of the American moral picture." He was a very, very big deal, and was directly responsible for censoring more films than I could even begin to list here.

In 1937, Olga J. Martin, Joseph Breen’s secretary, said, “To an impoverished country which had become religious and serious-minded, the sex attitudes of the post-war period became grotesquely unreal and antedated. The public at large wanted to forget its own derelictions of the ‘gay twenties.' The stage was set for the moral crusade.”

In 1936, once the Code was being fully enforced on filmmakers by Joseph Breen, a letter was issued by the office of Pope Pius XI that praised Breen's work, and encouraged all good Catholics to support film censorship.

The letter read in part, "From time to time, the Bishops will do well to recall to the motion picture industry that, amid the cares of their pastoral ministry, they are under obligation to interest themselves in every form of decent and healthy recreation because they are responsible before God for the moral welfare of their people even during their time of leisure. Their sacred calling constrains them to proclaim clearly and openly that unhealthy and impure entertainment destroys the moral fibre of a nation. They will likewise remind the motion picture industry that the demands which they make regard not only the Catholics but all who patronize the cinema."

Basically, this letter was a reminder from the Papal authority that bishops and priests are supposed to stop people from engaging with "lewd" or "obscene" art. That meant supporting things like the Hays Code.

So, to summarize: the original text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics, including a priest. The biggest and most aggressive censor under the Code was a Catholic man, who had the full support and approval of the Pope at the time. Good Catholics were called en-masse to support the Hays Code, because it was intentionally written to line up with Catholic teachings.

There's a lot more to say on the subject, and if you're interested in reading more on your own, I recommend the book "Pre-Code Hollywood: Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema, 1930-1934," by Thomas Doherty. There are plenty other sources I can recommend on request, but that's a solid place to start.

(And if I can toot my own horn, I'm intending to do a video lecture series all about American film censorship and the Hays Code. Pledging to my Patreon helps keep me fed and housed while I do all this damn research.)

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Edward Hopper, Conference at Night, 1949. Oil on canvas.

Numerous critics and exhibitions have documented the influence of stage sets and popular American cinema upon Hopper’s depictions of the urban scene, often citing this image as a prime example. Film historian Peter Wollen identified Conference at Night as one of many Hopper paintings that look like scenes in movies that one has come in on in mid-screening. The viewer feels that the vignette must have a before and after; it feels like a momentary flash in an on-going mystery. Writer and Hopper’s close friend Brian O’Doherty noted that Conference directly referenced the hallmarks of the era’s popular gangster movies, or film noir, in its lighting, bleak urban setting and hard-faced characters.

This painting is classic Hopper in its theme of voyeuristic glimpses of the city at night and its masterful exposition of such favored compositional devices as an open window, a near-empty room in a utilitarian structure, strongly-directed light from an unseen source, and anonymous figures engaged in some undefined yet intense social exchange to create an arresting psychological drama. Conference at Night furnishes one of the four superb examples of work in the Wichita Art Collection by an artist who is one of the greats of 20th century painting.

Text & photo: Wichita Art Museum

[chaos0pikachu]

Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

Short answer: No. anyways, in the following essay I will explain that James Cameron is a weeb...

(okay fine~~ lets actually do this)

TLDR: discussing what media globalization is, how fandom can distill it down to only American/European cinema, showcasing how a lot of current BL is influenced by countries within it's own proximity and NOT "the west" but each other, also James Cameron is still a weeb

I had seen a post that basically proposited that BL was being influenced by modern western romance tropes and had used things like omegaverse and mafia settings as an example. I found this, in a word, fucking annoying (oh, two words I guess) because it's micro-xenophobic to me.

It positions western - and really what we mean by this is American/European countries, we're not talking about South American countries are we? - cinema as the central breadbasket of all cinema in and of itself. Inherently, all following cinema must be in some way, shape, or form, influenced by American/European standards, and as such America/European countries are directly responsible for cinema everywhere else, and these places - namely non-white countries - do not influence each other, nor have their own histories in regards to storytelling or cinema and do not, in turn, also influence American/European film making either.

Now like, do I think all of that~~ is intentionally malicious thinking on behalf of folks in fandom? No, so chill out.

I do, however, think a lot of it is birthed from simple ignorance and growing up in an environment where ~The West~ is propagated to be central, individual, and exceptional as opposed to the monolith of "Asia" - by which we mean China, Korea, Japan don't we? How often in discussions of Asian countries is Iran, India, or Saudi Arabia brought up even tho they are all Asian countries? - or the monolith that is South America - in which some folks might believe regions like the Caribbean and/or Central America belong to, but nope there both North America.

Anyway, what we're talking about here is the concept of "media globalization":

"The production, distribution, and consumption of media products on a global scale, facilitating the exchange and diffusion of ideas cross-culturally." (source)

"The media industry is, in many ways, perfect for globalization, or the spread of global trade without regard for traditional political borders. [...] the low marginal costs of media mean that reaching a wider market creates much larger profit margins for media companies. [...] Media is largely a cultural product, and the transfer of such a product is likely to have an influence on the recipient’s culture." (source)

Typically when I see fandom discussing what falls under MG the topic is usually focused on how "the west" is influencing Thai/Korean/Chinese/Japanese media.

Enter, Pit Babe.

Surely Pit Babe was influenced by Supernatural right? Omegaverse is huge in the west - love it, hate it, meh it - it originated in the west - specifically via Supernatural after all.

Nah.

Omegaverse has been popular in Japan and China for almost a decade, if not longer. The earliest omegaverse manga I can think of is Pendulum: Juujin Omegaverse by Hana Hasumi which was released in 2015, almost a decade ago.

(what if you added furries into omegaverse? WHAT IF?? - Japan)

There's countless popular omegaverse manga too, and the dynamics only moderately resemble the ones we're familiar with in the west. Juujin is part omegaverse and part furry/beastmen - the alphas are all beastmen the omegas are humans - while something like Ookami-kun Is Not Scary only slightly resembles omegaverse dynamics as a hybrid series - beastmen are really popular in Japan in part b/c of historical mythology (you see the combination of romantic Beastmen and Japanese culture & folklore in Mamoru Hosoda's work The Boy and the Beast and Wolf Children).

Megumi & Tsugumi (2018) is so popular they're an official English edition published by VIZ's imprint SuBlime and that's a straight up omegaverse story.

(look at the omega symbol on the cover loud and proud baby)

So if Pit Babe was influenced by anything, it certainly wasn't "the west" it was Japan, Korea and China. Because those countries have a thriving omegaverse sub-genre going and have had such for 10 plus years now. Supernatural is popular in Japan, yes, and that may be where Japan and Japanese fans originally found omegaverse as a fictional sub-genre.

HOWEVER

Japanese fans took the sub-genre, bent it, played with it, and evolved it into their own thing. As such, other countries in their proximity, like Thailand, China, and Korea who read BL and GL manga, found it and were like "hey, we wanna play too!"

(is that an omegaverse yuri novel I spy?? yes, yes it is)

When I watched the Red Peafowl trailer, it had more in common with Kinnporsche, History: Trapped, along with films and shows like: Jet Li's The Enforcer, and Fist of Legend, Donnie Yen's Flash Point, Raging Fire, and Kung Fu Jungle, Han Dong-wook's The Worst of Evil, Kim Jin-Min's My Name, Lee Chung-hyeon's The Ballerina, Baik's Believer & Believer 2, Yoshie Kaoruhara's KeixYaku, popular Don Lee films The Gangster, the Cop and the Devil and Unstoppable alongside BL manga like Honto Yajuu and Bi No Isu (probably one of the most well known yazuka manga to date).

Like, we're seeing a rise in mafia based BLs and people think that's because of "western influence" and not the absolute insane success of kinnporsche??? Especially in countries like China, Korea, Taiwan, Philippines and other Asian countries???

Mafia films and gang shows aren't even that popular here in America/Europe; don't get me wrong, they still get made and exist, but the last full length film was The Irishman which did not make it's budget back, and while Power is still on-going it's not a smash hit either. The heyday of Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, The Wire, Goodfellas, and Scarface are long gone. And if you've watched any those shows or films they have very little in common with Kei x Yaku, Kinnporsche, or Red Peafowl in tone, or style.

(who knew martin just wanted to make his al pacino/robert de niro fanfic come to life all these years?)

Another example, The Sign, which is clearly taking inspiration from Chinese costume dramas: Ashes of Love, Fairy and Devil, White Snake (and it's many adaptions), Guardian, & Ying Yang Master Dream of Eternity. Alongside Hong Kong and Korean cop and romance shows like Tale of the Nine-Tailed, Hotel Del Luna, Director Who Buys Me Dinner, First Love, Again, and previously mentioned cop dramas.

Like, I know y'all don't think Twins is influenced by, what, American sports classic Angels in the Outfield?? Gridiron Gang?? Rocky?? Nah that shit is inspired by the popularity of sports manga like Haikyuu!!, Slam Dunk, Prince of Tennis (which even has a Chinese drama adaption), and the like. And also probably History 2, & Not Me but I'm like 87% sure Twins is just Haikyuu fanfic.

So like, does this mean that there's NO history in which American and European cinema influenced these countries? What, no, obviously that's not true, American/European totally have had media influence on countries like Korea, Japan, etc.

Astro Boy by Osamu Tezuka considered "the father of manga" was inspired by Walt Disney's work on Bambi. Another more recent and prominent example is director Yeon Sang-ho and his film Train to Busan.

"And it was Snyder’s movie [Dawn of the Dead, 2004], not the 1978 original, that filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho recalled as his first encounter with the undead. “That was when I started my interest in zombies,” Yeon said, in an email interview through a translator from South Korea. Even today, he added, “it’s the most memorable and intense zombie movie I’ve ever seen.”" (source)

HOWEVER, the global influence doesn't stop there. It's not a one-way street. Yeon Sang-Ho was inspired by Zack Synder's Dawn of the Dead, a remake of George Romero's own work, but Yeon Sang-Ho's work has inspired countless Korean film makers to make their own zombie media; following Train to Busan there's been: Kingdom (2019 - current), All of Us Are Dead (2022), Zombie Detective (2020), Zombieverse (2023), Alive (2020), Rampant (2018).

And hey, wouldn't you know it now we're starting to see more zombie media coming out of places like Japan (Zom 100 the manga, movie, and anime) and High School of the Dead.

Do you know what Domundi's series Zombivor (2023, pilot trailer only) reminds me of? It's NOT The Walking Dead (which is the only relevant zombie media America has created in the last decade) it's Korea's All of Us Are Dead (2022). Comparing the trailers, the settings, the tone, it's clear where Zombivor is pulling inspiration from: Korean zombie cinema. NOT American zombie cinema.

In fact a lot of Domundi's shows - Cutie Pie, Middleman's Love, Naughty Babe, Bed Friend - are all very clearly inspired by Korean filmmaking, specifically that of romantic kdramas from the 2016 - 2020 era. Not always in story, but rather in technique.

This is media globalization. It's not simply ~The West~ influencing non-American/European countries but countries who are often more close in terms of: proximity, culture, and trade are going to have more influence on each other.

It is far more likely that Aoftion (Naughty Babe, Cutie Pie, Zombivor) was influenced by watching Train to Busan, All of Us Are Dead, and other Korean zombie shows and films than a single episode of Walking Dead.

My point isn't that this goes one way only, but rather it is very literally a global thing. This includes American and European film makers being influenced by non-American and European cinema.

Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, Darren Aronofsky, Christopher Nolan, the Wachowski sisters, George Lucas and James Cameron have all been influenced by Japanese film making, especially the works of Akira Kurosawa, Satoshi Kon, and Mamoru Oshii.

John Wick's entire gun-fu sub-genre is heavily influenced by classic Hong Kong action films, specifically John Woo films. Legend of Korra, The Boondocks, Voltron, Young Justice, My Adventures with Superman are all obviously inspired by Japanese anime but animated by a Korean animation studio (Studio Mir). Beyond that, the rise in adult animated dramas like Castlevania, Critical Role Vox Machina, and Invincible to name a few are very clearly taking inspiration from anime in terms of style. The weebs that were watching Adult Swim's Inuyasha, Bleach, and Dragon Ball Z have grown up and are now working in Hollywood.

Okay so like, what's the point of all this? What's the issue? Since American/European cinema does influence et all cinema does any of this really matter?

YES.

I take contention with this line of thinking because it centers "the west" and our supposed individual importance way to much. Declaring definitively that "BL is being influenced by western tropes" and then including tropes, narratives, and film making styles that aren't inherently western and actually have major roots in the cinema of various Asian countries, removes the existence of individual history these countries have which are rich, varied, and nuanced. It removes the "global" part of globalization by declaring "the globe" is really just America and Europe.

It distills these countries down to static places that only exist when American/European audiences discover them.

BL doesn't exist in a vacuum you can trace the development of Korean BL to the development of Korean het dramas almost to a T. You can also trace their development to the queer history of each country and how Thailand interacts culturally with China, Japan, Korea, etc and vice versa. It also ignores the history of these countries influencing American cinema as well. Don't mistake "the globe" for only your sphere of experience.

Anyway James Cameron is a damn weeb y'all have a good night.

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[pablolf]

You’ve got to remember, at the time, The Matrix hadn’t come out yet. So martial arts in American cinema was looked down upon. As a stunt person, you made your money falling or driving or doing a stair fall or fire burns. Anything but martial arts.

The Matrix comes out. I get a gig doubling Keanu after I turn it down a few times. I was one of the few six-foot-one guys out there that had a gymnastic, martial-arts background. Next thing you know, I’m doubling Keanu Reeves on The Matrix. And who’s doing The Matrix? Yuen Woo-ping himself, the greatest fight choreographer alive today and probably that’s ever been around, and now I’m learning with his team for the next 10 years. And through that time, I’m working with Jackie Chan, Donnie Yen, Jet Li, and being introduced to the best of the best in the industry. And you start talking to Jackie Chan a little bit, and who’s one of his biggest influences? Buster Keaton.

Chad Stahelski on what the John Wick movies owe to Buster Keaton

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Alla Nazimova (A Doll's House, Camille, Salomé)—She was a proud lesbian, she was a director, she was artsy and experimental, she was instrumental in the rise to fame of Rudolph Valentino, she had the worlds biggest strap on energy

Xia Meng, also known as Hsia Moog or Miranda Yang (Sunrise, Bride Hunter)—For those who are familiar with Hong Kong's early cinema, Xia Meng is THE leading woman of an era, the earliest "silver-screen goddess", "The Great Beauty" and "Audrey Hepburn of the East". Xia Meng starred in 38 films in her 17-year career, and famously had rarely any flops, from her first film at the age of 18 to her last at the age of 35. She was a rare all-round actress in Mandarin-language films, acting, singing, and dancing with an enchanting ease in films of diverse genres, from contemporary drama to period operas. She was regarded as the "crown princess" among the "Three Princesses of the Great Wall", the iconic leading stars of the Great Wall Movie Enterprises, which was Hong Kong's leading left-wing studio in the 1950s-60s. At the time, Hong Kong cinema had only just taken off, but Xia Meng's influence had already spread out to China, Singapore, etc. Overseas Chinese-language magazines and newspapers often featured her on their covers. The famous HK wuxia novelist Jin Yong had such a huge crush on her that he made up a whole fake identity as a nobody-screenwriter to join the Great Wall studio just so he can write scripts for her. He famously said, "No one has really seen how beautiful Xi Shi (one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China) is, I think she should be just like Xia Meng to live up to her name." In 1980, she returned to the HK film industry by forming the Bluebird Movie Enterprises. As a producer with a heart for the community, she wanted to make a film on the Vietnam War and the many Vietnam War refugees migrating to Hong Kong. She approached director Ann Hui and produced the debut film Boat People (1982), a globally successful movie and landmark feature for Hong Kong New Wave, which won several awards including the best picture and best director in the second Hong Kong Film Award. Years later, Ann Hui looked back on her collaboration with Xia Meng, "I'm very grateful to her for allowing me to make what is probably the best film I've ever made in my life."

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Alla Nazimova:

HOT as hell. GAY as hell. TALENTED as hell. Producer, director, writer, actress. A silent era superstar who is credited with having coined the term "sewing circle" as a code-word for gatherings of lesbian and bisexual women. Has been called "the founding mother of Sapphic Hollywood" and was the owner/operator of the Garden of Alla Hotel in West Hollywood, which she bought in 1919 and sold in 1928 after deciding she wanted to go back to Broadway. In addition to starring opposite Valentino in Camille, she also had an affair with BOTH of his wives (Jean Acker and Natacha Rambova). In her day, she was one of the most influential women in the business.

"Nazimova was primarily a star during the silent film era, and her career in film started when she was almost forty. She was openly bisexual, and was engaged in two lavender marriages during her life while she carried on relationships with women (including at least one, and possibly two, of Rudolph Valentino's wives). She was brilliant and an autodidact - when she first moved to the United States from Ukraine, she spoke no English, but taught herself "in about five months" and went on to work as a screenwriter (among other things). Her predilections lay in art film, and she's credited with starring in / producing / directing one of the first American art films, the adaptation of Oscar Wilde's play Salome (1923). She has an elegant and commanding presence in all of her films, and is an absolute sensation to watch in motion."

Gif link, another gif link

A great actress who also produced a great deal of her films, Nazimova is absolutely mesmerizing to watch. She was also bi and coined the phrase "sewing circle" for sapphic celebrities.

Xia Meng:

[legallybrunettedotcom]

Can you recommend some good film podcasts to listen to?

for sure. i can't say that i follow any of these like super religiously, but i'd say all of these are pretty neat and now it's just a matter of which hosts/guests don't annoy you lol. also if anyone else has any more recs, do tell! :) the next picture show is roundtable discussions examining how classic films influence and inspire modern films so you’ll have something like all the president’s men and spotlight comparisons or the wicker man and the vvitch. cool for double feature movie nights.

the big picture has reviews, especially of latest movies, but they also talk about some arthouse stuff. they also do these like top 5 lists, oscars analysis etc. roundtables and interesting guests

the rewatchables both the big picture and the rewatchables are from the ringer website/network so hosts and guests overlap. it’s what it says on the tin. they rewatch movies and then do all these categories, personally my favourite and i think they're very funny.

you must remember this host does incredible research, it’s really about like secret and forgotten histories of 20th century hollywood. they did like a 12 part series on eroticism and sex in 80s cinema, now they moved onto the erotic 90s.

sleepover cinema is super fun and definitely the type of podcast i would want to have, just two friends talking about late 90s/early 2000s movies and pop culture in general that sort of shaped the collective unconscious of “girls and gays” as they say.

intermission from the cinegogue is super chill. they just invite guests and ask them a bunch of movie questions in a way that you would ask a friend, yk like if you could watch movies from only one country which one would you choose, or like favourite nepo baby director. but they also do reviews. blank check cover entire filmographies of directors

black on black cinema for black film reviews and discussions

reel asian podcast for asian and asian american film reviews and discussions

a piece of pie for lgbt films and topics and subtext and such

junkfood cinema for shitty and cult movies. also how did this get made is about bad movies we love.

space brains for science fiction

final girls horrorcast for horror, sci-fi, thrillers both well known and obscure

filmspotting and the film cast for reviews of new and old as well

sardonicast does pretty much everything

[espumado]

Guys, you don't know what just happened to me!! I love soundtracks so I stopped to listen to The Bear's, i found the official FX playlist on Spotify and was listening to it when suddenly a podcast starts and I was like???? So i looked and it was about a horror film??? I, tring to understanding, went to the FX site to see the playlist and the episodes and saw that it was the song from the beginning of the ep5- Children (the lullaby) with our beloved Natalie💖...So what happened was that the music is from a horror film and instead of putting the soundtrack they put on this podcast!!! And I don't know if it was on purpose or just a mistake!!! (And all this reminded me of the people here who started a tag, I don't know who, about The Bear being a haunted/ghost story💀)

It's this scene, with this song:

And the Playlist has this podcast:

But i was like Nat why you have a horror movie song playing in your head??? And cause I'm curious, I went to find out more about the film, cause I didn't know the movie (horror isn't really my thing) and I discovered that: 

The Night of the Hunter is a 1955 American film noir thriller directed by Charles Laughton. Despite receiving negative reviews upon its original release, it has been positively re-evaluated in later decades and is now considered one of the greatest films ever made. “The movie is best known for Robert Mitchum's extraordinary performance as serial-killer-posing-as-priest Harry Powell, a menacing religious misogynist who marries widows for their money and kills them off in the name of the Lord. Having been jailed for stealing a car, he shares a cell with father-of-two Ben Harper, soon to be hanged for murder and the theft of $10,000. Before his arrest Harper hides the money in a rag doll belonging to his little daughter Pearl, making her and his 10-year-old son John swear never to tell where the money is hidden. The plot hinges on Powell's pursuit of the money and John's determination to protect his sister and escape from a psychopath whom others assume is virtuous. Hiding his past, Powell woos, then marries Harper's widow Willa (Shelley Winters). When she discovers his motives he murders her, and the children escape on a boat down the river. A tense chase ensues. The film exists in that cinematic no-man's-land of fairy tales for adults, is a children's fairytale – strange and idiosyncratic – but also a noir thriller, laced with the darkest elements of both genres: death, guilt, greed, poverty, cruelty, biblical references and a terrifying pursuit by the scariest of bogeymen. Laughton described it as "a nightmarish sort of Mother Goose tale". John, played superbly by the steely eyed Billy Chapin, is pivotal as the boy who is alone in perceiving Powell's true motives. In a tale of innocence and experience, he must quickly grow up in the most sinister of circumstances; he must resist adult hypocrisy and stupidity, and a new "father" who pretends to be loving, but is secretly abusive. Gripping in its narrative, the film is also frequently and darkly humorous.”

“Thinking of The Night of the Hunter in terms of its visual impact on other filmmakers, there’s a striking echo to be observed between its unseen presence in films by Scorsese, Spielberg, the Coens, even Ari Aster, and the influence of silent cinema on Laughton’s own filmmaking choices.”

“We can notice the importance of one particular scene: the escape of the children in a boat (they are running away from the killer). This scene, being so important, is also one of the most memorable of the entire film. The components that make it so memorable are: setting, lighting, framing, blocking and music. In the river sequence, the usual realistic environment of the film disappears, giving place to such an artificial setting that it seems that we are watching a whole new film.[...] Again, we feel that the children are safe again in the boat, as they run away from their hunter.

“The river symbolise safety – it is what separates (even temporarily) John and Pearl from Powell. In a way, it is a metaphor for the transformation of a past full of terror into a brighter future¹ with Rachel.”

About the music: “Composer Walter Schumann called the heavy four brass chords that often accompany Preacher a “‘pagan motif, consisting of clashing fifths in the lower register,’” which cede to the lullaby “Dream, Little One, Dream” with a shot of Gish. This celestial lullaby foreshadows her adoption of the children after they escape downriver. In the opening and river sequences especially, audio-visions juxtapose fantasy and reality, and good and evil, to propel the children to safety.[...] In these sequences, Laughton’s visual constructions and Schumann’s score establish abstract contours that take root in spectatorial memory. When the overture transitions from Preacher’s pagan motif to a tranquil lullaby, celestial sounds and Gish’s presence seem to safeguard the children from Preacher’s tyranny.[...] Schumann’s pagan motif, Miz Cooper’s lullaby, and the sounds of the children’s river journey mix realistic tropes and emotional flourishes in the manner of 1950s melodrama films, which especially employed music to articulate these opposing poles. For Peter Brooks, music punctuates the wordless gestures of the melodramatic “text of muteness”: its sweeping rhythmic motions render space and time tangible to imbue characters—especially muted victims—with emotional depth².[...] Analyzed through a motivic model that binds characters to themes, Hunter’s river lullabies foreshadow the children’s eventual safety with Miz Cooper even though maternal figures are not visible.”

So there is this important and well-known scene in the film when the song plays. When the kids are finaly safe in a boat on the river (the part of the song they use in the series starts at around 3:55):

So basically: there's a father who hid some money in the kid's toy (which reminded me of the money in the cans of tomatoes- KBL); an orphaned brother and sister; children looking for shelter; during the escape they are they feel safe in a boat on a river (when the lullaby plays) and in the end they are adopted and everything is fine.

I wanted to understand what this means for Nat, what it has to do with her. When the scene starts the song says "fear is just a dream…" then she thinks about her fears: her brother, mother and a mom's funeral (Marcus), then the song continues "so dream, little one, dream", like, it's not real, no need to fear it!

So…this is ep5 called Children, where: 1-Syd and Marcus take his mother's stuff out of the house and talk about their family 2-we find out that Ever is going to close (a funeral will happen) 3-Marcus and Nat talk about his mother and to start a new project to honor her while Nat is resting from pregnancy discomfort 4- it's the ep The Computer appears and Nat defends Marcus 5- there are the Faks, including John Cena, talking about their family and the hauntings 6- Syd and Uncle Jimmy talk and he says he wishes he had done more for the kids (she reminds him that he is there for them) and finally 7- Carmy goes to the basement and finds a box with photos of the family (Donna and Mike and himself too and a baby that could be Nat?!!!) then some riffs of the song Mixed Emotions by Rolling Stones start and it cuts to the credits with the lyrics right in the part: You're not the only one, You're not the only ship, Adrift on this ocean. And that's it! Just these lyrics and then just instrumentals. They cut the song to fit the scene and without any other part of the lyrics!!!

Carmy my man, Nat needs you! And she was the one who reminded him in the first season: "did you know i recently had a brother die too?" She's trying. She wants help, she already told him, "the thing that pisses me of is that you never ask her how i am doing!!!" but he can't ask her that "because he feels trapped, because he can't describe how he feels, so asking someone else how they're feeling seems crazy to him" (like, he literally told her that in S1). They need to talk, they need each other, they need family (a new one probably...the restaurant...uncle Jimmy too?? She talked with him about be a parent last season and he is always there for them, saving them). Nat managed to talk to her mother, even asked for help (it’s not a solution for everything, but it was a start)...but Carmy...there's still a long way to go, a next season thing. But I think it may be a thing they need to do together somehow, i dont know...

Nat is afraid of her past, motherhood and knows family is complicated, she is looking for a brighter future¹. She and Carmy (and Mike) are children of a abusive/alcoholic parent and live with the consequences of that (some people here have already talked better about the subject). So they are like the kids from the movie, who are muted victims—with emotional depth², in a complicated family, going throught the river until they reach a safer place with better people.

And also, last seasons they showed the "pyromaniac tendencies" of the Berzatto brothers, there were these references to setting the restaurant on fire as if that was the solution to their problems...and now in season 3 I thought that had been forgotten...instead, the ep1 already starts with (first a train, and then) a lake, which appears other times throughout the season... Copenhagen Carmy living in a boat on a river!!!, and all happy and safe, drawing on a bridge over a river!!!

We also had a scene with water being thrown on the kitchen countertop and "flooding" the space (with a song by Trent Reznor and Atticus for a war doc! that the director describes as profound, haunting, unsettling and deeply moving!!!) in a moment that the crew is cleaning the kitchen and everyone is tired and overwhelmed; there is Donna talking about the fish tank that breaks in a dream that takes place in a place she doesn't know that looks gray except for the tank (surreal, like a noir thriller maybe). These don't seem so safe, but they seem to be about the past, something to be overcome... And there's even a scene of Syd reflecting in front of a lake... Several water references...and I have no idea if that really means anything...or if i am going to deeper into this?😅

...but Nat, dear, are you okay?!...you feel like in a horror movie with your remaining brother seeking safety together somewhere or with someone, running away from a curse, a haunting in your family??? (in S1 Carmy talks about how she blames the restaurant, not her mother or Mike, she says the place sucks up all the work, money and time and all they get back is chaos and resentment) But seriously, someone help her!!!...and Carmy...She must have felt very lonely this season with Carmy like that...But I guess this all means that everything will be fine in the end, like in the movie!

Seriously, I couldn't come to a better conclusion about this but it left me curious and confused... And of course, it might mean nothing and just be an interesting song from an amazing movie that director Chris Storer likes because he likes great movies and that's all 🙃 But with all the movie references, great directors and hauntings...maybe I'm not so crazy😅 <<<I tell myself to feel better🫠

[mariocki]

Evil Dead II (Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn, 1987)

"Honey... you're holding my hand too tight."

"Baby, I ain't holding your hand."

[youremyheaven]

The Astrology of Muses: A Vedic Exploration 🎨🖌👫💏

This is going to be a loooong post so hang in there besties<3

Claire Nakti observed that Ketu being the root or tail of the dragon is the source of our creativity. So whatever we channel during the process of art making is reflective of our Ketu, its placement etc. While I agree with this observation, I'd also like to add that Venus is also very important in determining the creativity, creative nature and career of an individual, as well as who or what they seek inspiration from.

Obviously Sun-Moon relationships and other aspects with luminaries can also determine how we connect to and draw inspiration from others.

First of all, let's understand what a muse is.

A muse is defined as a person (often, a woman but not always) who serves as a source of artistic inspiration creativity, and passion for the artist.

In mythology, the Muses were nine goddesses who symbolized the arts and sciences. 

There is a spiritual reason why women serve as the source of creativity for others. This is because of them being Yin, inwardly expansive and vessels that can be receptive to a variety of influences. Water is the most feminine element and the ability of water to take the shape of whatever's its poured into is very important in this context. Water is life giving but it can also be destructive and turbulent. All of these are very telling about feminine nature.

Anyways, let's look through some artist-muse relationships in history and pop culture.

F Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda Fitzgerald

Probably one of the most famous literary romances. Zelda was Scott's lover, wife and muse. They had a very tumultuous marriage; Zelda was diagnosed with schizophrenia and Scott was an alcoholic but they also enjoyed immense popularity and success early on in their marriage and career.

It is now known that Scott plagiarized much of his work from the diaries and letters of his wife, Zelda and was controlling & abusive towards her when she expressed interest in furthering her own literary career.

Both of them had Mars in Mrigashira as their atmakaraka

Scott had Ketu in Ashlesha & his muse, Zelda was Ashlesha Rising (and mercury which was her amatyakaraka)

2. Vita Sackville West and Virginia Woolf

They were both married to different men when they began their affair with each other. They significantly influenced each other's work; Vita wrote Seducers In Ecuador dedicated to Virginia, while Virginia's Orlando was about Vita. The relationship lasted until Virginia's death in 1941.

Vita was Uttara Ashada Rising, whereas Virginia had Venus in Uttara Ashada

Vita had Venus in Aswini and Virginia was Aswini Moon

3. Ingrid Bergman & Roberto Rossellini

They began an affair when she was still married to her husband whilst filming the movie Stromboli. She got pregnant and they later got married.

While the movies Bergman made with Rossellini were commercial failures, the films have garnered great appreciation and attention for their contribution to Italian Neo-realism.

Bergman was Magha Sun, Venus & Rising, whereas Rossellini was Magha Rising

He had Rahu in Ashlesha and she had Ketu in Ashlesha

4. Lillian Gish & D.W Griffith

Lillian Gish is called "The First Lady of American Cinema"; she was a muse to the first influential filmmaker in Hollywood, D.W. Griffith. She appeared in his ground breaking movies The Birth of a Nation (1915), Intolerance (1916), Broken Blossoms (1919) and Way Down East (1920).

D.W Griffith was Ashlesha Moon with Mars in Vishaka atmakaraka and Ketu in Chitra

Lillian Gish had Chitra Sun, Venus & Saturn (amatyakaraka) in Vishaka and Ketu in Ashlesha

5. Norma Shearer & Irving Thalberg

Norma Shearer would be dubbed the First Lady of MGM for not only being the contracted actress with the most box-office appeal but also the wife of studio head Irving Thalberg.

Thalberg, was a film executive who was called the  “boy wonder of Hollywood” who, as the production manager of MGM, was largely responsible for the studio’s prestigious reputation.

Shearer and Thalberg were married in 1927, after which Shearer had her pick of films, parts, costars, and directors, and she used this advantage to avoid being typecast. Thalberg largely directed her career until his death in 1936.

She played sexually liberated ingenues in the 1920s & 30s and is now considered a feminist icon.

She was Ashlesha Sun (atmakaraka), Venus & Mars in Ardra and Ketu in Rohini

He was Rohini Sun, Mars in Ashlesha (amatyakaraka) and Ketu in Ardra

5. Godard and Anna Karina

Karina served as a cinematic muse to Godard, appearing in eight of his films; during their five-year marriage and after. Karina liked being the muse, stating in 2016: "How could I not be honoured? Maybe it's too much, it sounds so pompous. But of course, I’m always very touched to hear people say that. Because Jean-Luc gave me a gift to play all of those parts. It was like Pygmalion, you know? I was Eliza Doolittle and he was the teacher."

Their contribution to the French New Wave and to cinema in general is widely acknowledged and well-regarded.

Karina was Ashlesha Venus (amatyakaraka), Punarvasu Rising with Ketu in Revati

Godard was Ashlesha Mars (amatyakaraka), Jupiter in Punarvasu (amatyakaraka) with Rahu in Revati

6. Monica Vitti & Michelangelo Antonioni

For 10 years, Monica Vitti was the muse and lover of Michelangelo Antonioni for almost a decade, starring in many of his most famous films, such as L’Avventura (1960), La Notte (1961), L’Eclisse (1962) & Red Desert (1964).

Vitti is Swati Sun with Ketu in Hasta

Antonioni has Hasta Sun, Mercury & Ketu along with his Venus in Swati

7. YSL & Paloma Picasso

Yves Saint Laurent had many muses but perhaps his most overlooked muse is Paloma Picasso

Paloma Picasso was the muse, who originally inspired Saint Laurent’s ‘Scandal’ collection of ‘71, and his career-defining turn away from the perfectionism of couture to a different kind of empowerment of something more wild, free and personal. 

YSL was Uttarashada moon (atmakaraka), Paloma had Uttarashada moon & jupiter (conjunct)

8. Hubert de Givenchy and Audrey Hepburn

Givenchy designed the iconic 'little black dress' worn by Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, which cemented the actress as one of the most stylish women of the 20th century.

"His are the only clothes in which I am myself. He is far more than a couturier, he is a creator of personality," said Hepburn. The Breakfast at Tiffany's dress also helped Givenchy gain worldwide recognition, and his intricate, feminine designs became the subject of adoration.

Givenchy is Shatabhisha Sun & Jupiter

Audrey is Shatabhisha Moon

9. Bob Mackie and Cher

Mackie is a costume designer. His work with Cher has a place in fashion history, from the sheer dress she wore to the 1974 Met Gala to the beaded see-through gown she wore to accept her Oscar in 1988 (let alone, designing hundreds of her costumes for The Sonny & Cher Show).

Mackie has Ketu in Bharani and Cher has Mercury in Bharani (amatyakaraka)

10.Jean Paul Gaultier and Madonna

The cone bra—one of Madonna's most famous and recognised stage outfits from her Blonde Ambition tour—was created by Jean Paul Gaultier in 1990. The piece soon launched Gaultier's career, and solidified his relationship with the iconic performer.

Gaultier went on to design stage outfits for many of Madonna's concert tours, and she even made an appearance as a model in his spring summer '95 collection. After almost 30 years of friendship, they attended the 2018 Met Gala together (Madonna wearing one of Gaultier's designs, of course).

Gauthier is Bharani Moon & Madonna is Purva phalguni Moon & Rising

This is an example of Venus attracting & partnering with Venus.

11. Pedro Almodovar and Penelope Cruz

They've done numerous movies together in the last 25 years. They are both Punarvasu Moon

Almodovar is a Purvaphalguni Mercury (amatyakaraka) and Ketu and Penelope is a Bharani Sun, so this is yet another Venusian creative partnership.

When it comes to artist-muse partnerships, sharing Ketu/Venus to Sun/Moon/Rising aspects seems to be very common. Its also common to see artists and their muses share the same luminaries. We are inspired by people who project our qualities in different ways. there is a reason we are drawn to certain people and its always because of how subconsciously they remind us of ourselves.

social muses, trendsetters & it girls

I'm not going to mention Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe or Princess Diana because I feel like enough has been said about them.

There are some people who seem to inspire not just one person specifically but the tastes and culture of a whole era. They are tastemakers who set trends and are widely imitated and their influence has far reaching impact. They are "muse" to everybody.

Jackie O

she is one of the most culturally influential people of the 20th century and defined her era (60s America) and is probably an early example of an "influencer", which is to say, people imitated her style, her manners etc

Jackie is Pushya Sun & Mercury, Aswini Moon, Ketu & Rising in Vishaka, Venus in Mrigashira atmakaraka.

2. Grace Kelly aka Princess Grace of Monaco

She is synonymous with elegance, flair and grace to this day and is widely regarded for her artistic success as well as her charitable endeavours. She is one of the most influential women in history.

She has Vishaka Sun (amatyakaraka) & Mars, Purvabhadrapada Moon, Swati Mercury, Ketu and Rising

3. Liz Taylor

Liz Taylor was known for her love of diamonds. She always dressed like a movie star, in very extravagant style with her plunging necklines, fur wraps, feather boas, and eye-catching headpieces. She was very glamorous

She was the first celebrity to have her own fragrance and thirty five years later, her perfume empire remains one of the most successful celebrity fragrance ventures of all time. White Diamonds is one the best selling celebrity fragrances in history. She paved the way for numerous others to follow in her foot steps, although not everyone has had her success.

She is Shatabhisha Sun & Mercury, Vishaka Moon, Jyeshta Rising along with Venus in Revati atmakaraka and Jupiter in Ashlesha amatyakaraka

4. Twiggy

She is the world's first supermodel. She is an important cultural icon and was the face of the Swinging Sixties in her babydoll dresses and mary janes.

She's Pushya Moon & Mars, and Punarvasu Rising

5. Diana Ross

Miss Ross rose to fame as the lead singer of the girl group the Supremes, which became Motown's most successful act in the 1960s, and one of the world's best-selling girl groups of all time. After leaving the group in 1970, she launched a successful solo career, with many huge hits across the next couple of decades. She is known for her extravagant style and is a true 80s diva who blurred the lines between costumes and everyday clothing.

She is UBP Sun, Bharani Moon, Vishaka Rising

Mercury in Revati amatyakaraka and Jupiter in Ashlesha atmakaraka

6. Beyonce

Beyonce is one of the most influential women of the 21st century. Her impact on culture is immense and undeniable.

She is Purvaphalguni Sun, Vishaka Moon (atmakaraka) & Chitra Rising

Bey & Jay have been each other's muses for a good while and have multiple albums inspired by each other. They are pop culture royalty.

Jay is Jyeshta Sun & Mercury (atmakaraka), Hasta Moon, Ketu & Rising in Purvaphalguni

7. Rihanna

RiRi is one of the most iconic women ever.

Her music, looks, products, personality- everything about her is influential af. She's multi talented and has excelled in several fields.

She is a Revati Stellium (moon, venus (amatyakaraka) & rising)

8. Paris Hilton

Probably the OG influencer. Paris defined her era (the 2000s) and has had a lasting impact on pop culture that needs to be studied. She was written out of her family will and built her own empire. She paved the way for all influencers.

Dhanishta Sun & Mercury, Pushya Moon & Jyeshta Rising

9.Kim & Kylie

I don't like them but to say they haven't had an impact on beauty/fashion/pop culture would be lying. I personally see it as a negative impact 😬 but its an impact nonetheless.

They normalized plastic surgery to such an extent that every other girl in the West and almost every famous woman at this point has fillers, botox, BBL or something done. They also paved the way for influencers entering the fashion world.

Kim is Chitra Sun, UBP Moon & Jyeshta Rising with Mercury in Vishaka amatyakaraka and Venus in Purva phalguni atmakaraka

Kylie is Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon & Purva ashada Rising

She has Venus in Uttaraphalguni atmakaraka & Saturn in Revati amatyakaraka

10. Bella Hadid

cannot talk about it girls and not mention Bella.

she's had such a massive impact on pop culture in the late 2010s & now in the 2020s. she made y2k style as popular as it is today and is probably the only true supermodel of our era.

She's Hasta Sun (amatyakaraka), Purva phalguni Moon & Rising with Ketu in UBP, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

she's inspired practically The Weeknd's entire discography. He has Ketu in Ashlesha

it's interesting to me how all the Hadid siblings have inspired a lot of pop music. (Gigi with Zayn, Anwar with Dua Lipa etc)

11. Selena Gomez

Selena's inspired way too many heartbreak songs to not be on this list.

She's Pushya Sun & Rising with Aswini Moon with Ashlesha Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus

There has been a lot of Vishaka women and Jupiter natives in general, Pushya ladies, Ketuvian (esp Aswini), Venusian influence and a lot of people with Ashlesha atmakaraka/amatyakaraka. Pisces influence and Jyeshta influence is also seen. Why are these planets/naks/rashis recurring?

Talking about people who have a very wide impact, it makes sense as to why Jupiter natives would be here; its expansiveness reaches everyone. In fact if you look at the era defining cultural figures of any decade, you will see a common Jupiter influence. This is also why Pisces rashi (Pisces is ruled by Jupiter) is so common in the world of art & entertainment.

Venusian placements are what creates trendsetters imo. Its what makes others imitate you and want to be like you.

Ashlesha natives dominate the entertainment sphere because entertainment and all art tbh, is in the simplest terms, manipulating others.

Pushya women inspire others with their feminine charms. Ketu being the root or the tail means that its very easy for others to project on to them. They lack identity on their own; its a very shadowy realm. This is what celebrities are to most people; you don't know them or understand them, which makes it easier to project onto them and love them for that illusion.

Jyeshta represents lack and in the world of influence, more than abundance, its that space of lack that makes it easier for people to add/built on to the persona they see of someone.

I'll make a part 2 sometime but for now this is it. I hope it was insightful.

[fibula-rasa]

Cosplay the Classics: Nazimova in Salomé (1922)—Part 2

My cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

As the studio system emerged in the American film industry at the start of the 1920s, many of the biggest stars in Hollywood chose independence. Alla Nazimova, an import from the stage, was one of them. In 1922, she made a series of professional and creative decisions that would completely change the trajectory of her career.

In part one of CtC: Nazimova in Salomé, I described how Nazimova’s independent productions were shaped in response to trends and ideas surrounding young/independent womanhood in America after World War I and the influenza pandemic. Here in part two, I’ll fit these productions, A Doll’s House and Salomé, into the broader context of the big-money business of film becoming legitimate in America.

While the full essay and photo set are available below the jump, you may find it easier to read (formatting-wise) on the wordpress site. Either way, I hope you enjoy the read! Oh and Happy Bi Visibility Day to all those who celebrate!

My cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

Artists United? Allied Artists and the Release of Salomé

When Nazimova made her screen debut in War Brides (1916), the American film industry was undergoing a series of formative changes. Southern California became the center of professional filmmaking in the US—fleeing New Jersey (where War Brides was filmed) largely because of Thomas Edison’s attempts to monopolize the business. Preferences of audiences and exhibitors shifted away from one and two-reel films and towards feature-length films. The Star System emerged in full force. Nazimova soon relocated to Hollywood, signed a contract with Metro, and reaped the benefits of this boom period for American film artists.

The focus on feature-film production and the marketing of films based on the reputations of specific filmmakers or stars required a greater initial outlay of resources—time, money, and labor. But, it also paid dividends—the industry quickly grew into a big-money business. The underlying implication of that is that a larger share of the profits were shifted from the people doing the creating (artists and technicians) and towards other figures (capitalists). In practice, this also meant film companies would become eligible for listing on the stock exchange and could secure funding from banks and financial institutions, both of which were rare or impossible before the mid-1920s. The major players on the business end of production, distribution, and exhibition, therefore, wanted to consolidate their power and reduce the power and influence of the filmmakers.

To illustrate how momentous this handful of years was in the history of the US film industry, allow me to highlight a few key events. Will Hayes’ office was set up in 1922 to make official Hollywood’s commitment to self-censorship. Eastman Kodak introduced 16 mm film in 1923, a move which, while making filmmaking more accessible and affordable, also widened and formalized the division between the professional industry and amateur filmmaking. Dudley Murphy’s “visual symphony” Danse Macabre[1] was released in 1922—considered America’s first avant-garde film. Nazimova’s Salomé was considered America’s first art film from its initial release in 1923. That these labels were deemed relevant in this period illustrates the line being drawn between those films and film as a conventional, commercial product. The concept of art cinemas in the US was first proposed in 1922 spurring on the Little Cinema movement later in the decade.

from Danse Macabre

from Salomé

As any industry matures, both the roles within it and its output become more starkly delineated. That is to say that, as the US industry began differentiating between art/avant-garde/experimental film and commercial film, the jobs within professional filmmaking also became more firmly defined. Filmmaking has always been a collaborative art, but in the period prior to the 1920s, it was common for people in film to do a little of everything. As a result, what sparse credits made it onto the final film didn’t necessarily reflect all of the work that was done. To illustrate this using Nazimova,[2] at Metro, she had her own production unit under the Metro umbrella. While her films were “Nazimova Productions,” she didn’t have full creative control of her films. However, Nazimova did choose her own projects, develop said projects, and contribute to their writing, directing, and editing. When those films were released, aside from the “Nazimova Productions” banner, her only credit would usually be for her acting. Despite that impressive level of creative power, the studio still had the ultimate say on whether a film got made, and how it would be released. As studios grew and tightened control of their productions, this looser filmmaking style became much less common.

The structure of the industry at this time was roughly tripartite—production, distribution, and exhibition. Generally speaking, the way studio-made films traveled from studio to theatre—before full vertical integration—was that the production company would make available a slate of films of different scales. (Bigger productions with bigger names attached would have a special designation and come with higher rental fees.) Famous Players-Lasky was the biggest production house at the time, though other studios, like Metro, were quickly catching up. Distribution companies would then place this slate of films on regional exchanges, centered in the biggest cities in a given region. Exhibitors (this could be owners of chains like Loew’s in the Midwest and Northeast, the Saengers around the gulf coast, or individual theatre owners) could then rent films through their local exchanges. (This was an ever-shifting industry, so this process was not true for every single film. This is only meant as a quick overview of the system.) As the 1920s wore on, exhibitors began entering the production arena and producers further merged with distribution companies and exhibition chains. Merger-mania was the rule of the day.

My cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

As merger upon merger took place and a handful of businessmen tried to monopolize the industry, American filmmakers responded by championing the artistic legitimacy of filmmaking in the US. Leading this charge were the very filmmakers on whose backs the big business of film had been built. As noted in Tino T. Balio’s expansive history of United Artists, The Company Built by the Stars:

…Richard A. Rowland, president of Metro Pictures, proclaimed that ‘motion pictures must cease to be a game and become a business.’ What he wanted was to supplant the star system, which forced companies to compete for big names and pay out-of-this-world salaries for their services. Metro, he said, would thenceforth decline from ‘competitive bidding for billion-dollar stars’ and devote its energies to making big pictures based on ‘play value and excellence of production.’”

It’s notable for us that these ideas were espoused by Rowland, head of the studio where Nazimova was currently one of those “billion-dollar stars.” (“Billion-dollar” is obviously a massive overstatement.) It was a precarious time for any filmmaker who cared about the quality and artistry of their work. It was this environment that birthed United Artists, a new production company built around the prestige and reputation of its filmmakers, Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, Charlie Chaplin, and D.W. Griffith. As the statement announcing the formation of UA detailed:

“We also think that this step is positively and absolutely necessary to protect the great motion picture public from threatening combinations and trusts that would force upon them mediocre productions and machine-made entertainment.”

It’s an accurate assessment of industry trends at the time. If the desired product is a high-quality feature-length film, production is necessarily more expensive. As the UA statement intimates, monopolizing the entire industry and sacrificing quality for quantity to fill the exchanges and theatrical bills was the studio heads’ solution to rising costs. Not a great signal for filmmaking as art in America.

My cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

So, Nazimova was in good company when she chose to go independent, believing in film as art and that American moviegoers deserved better than derivative, studio-conceived films. Some of the other artists who went independent included George Fitzmaurice (one of the most revered directors of the silent era, though most of his films are now sadly lost), Charles Ray, Max Linder, Norma Talmadge (in alliance with Sam Goldwyn), and Ferdinand Pinney Earle (whose massive mostly-lost artistic experiment Omar Khayyam, I profiled in LBnF). If these filmmakers shared the motivation of UA to create higher-calibre productions, where would the money come from? For Nazimova, the answer was her own bank account.

In 1922, Nazimova’s final film for Metro, Camille (1921), was still circulating widely due to the rising popularity of her co-star, Rudolph Valentino, after the release of Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) and The Sheik (1921). While Nazimova had the funds to complete A Doll’s House and Salomé, there was no sure bet for the films’ releases. Nazimova’s initial concept for her independent productions was the “repertoire” film. This scheme would have seen A Doll’s House released as a shorter film with Salomé as a feature and the two could be rented as a package by exhibitors.  It was a creative response to growing tensions between producers and exhibitors over a practice called block booking. Block booking was a strategy studios employed to leverage the Star System to its fullest. They would take the most in-demand films associated with the biggest drawing stars and only make them available in a package deal with productions that were perceived as less marketable. Nazimova was aware that her films at Metro had been rented this way (as the special feature). It’s not completely clear from my research if the decision to release Salomé and A Doll’s House as two features was creative, practical, or a combination of the two. The “repertoire” concept may not have gone according to plan, but it was an early indication that Nazimova was well-informed of the nuances of distribution and exhibition.

Nazimova’s need for proper distribution was met by United Artists’ distribution subsidiary, Allied Artists. United Artists’ first few years were a struggle. Fairbanks, Pickford, and Griffith[3] needed significant time and money to finish the high-quality productions that they promised and Allied was their solution. This distribution arm would release the work of other independent talent using the same exchanges as UA, but under a different banner. Though Allied used UA’s exchanges for distribution, the subsidiary had its own staff. Allied having different branding would also protect the prestige of the UA name. (An unkind, but not entirely inaccurate summary: the money your work brings in is good enough for us, but your work is not.) Allied would have a full release slate to generate the revenue that UA needed to remain in operation.

Nazimova was one of the filmmakers who signed a distribution deal with Allied and had reason to regret it—though she and Charles Bryant didn’t openly rag on UA/Allied.[4] Notably, Mack Sennett had arranged the release of Suzanna (1923) through Allied and was vocal about the company bungling its release. Differences over distribution and exhibition would also lead to Griffith’s exit from the company and a major rift between Chaplin and Pickford-Fairbanks. After 1923, Allied reduced its operation, at least in part because of the bad reputation they were garnering with other filmmakers. Despite numerous independents losing money on productions released through Allied, by 1923, Allied had netted UA 51 million dollars in revenue!

Trade ad for Salomé from Motion Picture News, 10 March 1923

The questionable deals that these independent filmmakers received with Allied are often mentioned in discourse about the period, but very, very rarely does anyone offer details of what Allied’s inadequate distribution looked like. Using the information available to me via Lantern, I collected and analyzed data regarding the release and exhibition of Nazimova’s final two Metro films and both of her Allied films.[5] Looking at the trade publications Exhibitor’s Trade Review, Moving Picture World, Motion Picture News, and Exhibitors Herald, I categorized every item I found about the release or exhibition of Billions (1920),[6] Camille, A Doll’s House, and Salomé. The “release” items are primarily advertisements, reviews, and news items about release dates or pre-release screenings. The number of these items for all four films were comparable. 

The items in the “exhibition” category, however, reveal a marked difference between the Metro and Allied releases. This category includes items like first-run theatre listings, exhibitor feedback, and advertising advice for theatre owners. Only counting exhibition items from the first two years (24 months) from the initial release of each film, Billions and Camille had twice as many items as A Doll’s House and Salomé!

While this isn’t necessarily hard data on how many theatres ran each film, it is a rough indicator of how well the films circulated. This data suggests that neither A Doll’s House or Salomé had distribution comparable to the Metro films. In order to compensate for the Rudy factor—Valentino’s major rise to stardom in 1921—which could have affected Camille’s numbers in a big way, I included Billions as well. Billions was sold as a special (a bigger production with premium rental fees) on Nazimova’s name alone. It was not especially well received. Exhibitors/theatre owners had mixed feelings on the film because Nazimova’s previous film, Madame Peacock (1920), had underperformed. Many exhibitors viewed Billions as an improvement, though it still did not meet their perception of Nazimova’s standard of quality. Despite that, Billions had 76 exhibition-related items across its first 24 months of availability to Camille’s 80.

To get a little deeper into this data, I wanted to see how the feedback from exhibitors and theatre owners compared. I broke down the exhibitor feedback for each film as positive, middling, or negative based on how the exhibitors assessed audience response and/or box office receipts. (I discounted feedback that only reflected theatre owners’ own personal assessment of the films without mention of their patrons or receipts.) Positive feedback could be good reception and/or good receipts, middling suggests only average business and no noteworthy reception, and negative indicates poor response and/or poor ticket sales. Since there are so many more items about Camille and Billions than A Doll’s House and Salomé, I compared ratios as an indicator of exhibitor satisfaction. The results were truly surprising.

Theatre owners who rented Salomé may have been in significantly smaller numbers than those who ran Camille, but their satisfaction with ticket sales and audience feedback was roughly equivalent. (Though slightly more positive for Salomé!) The numbers for Billions line up with the qualitative assessment I summarized above, displaying a roughly equal 3-way split. A Doll’s House was the most divisive with the highest proportion of negative feedback of the four films, yet with a higher proportion of positive feedback than Billions.

Taking all of this into account, it’s clear that Salomé did not flop because it was too artsy or esoteric for the American moviegoing public. Such assumptions are obviously not very thoughtful or informed by reliable data.[7] A more historically sound reading is that, as professional filmmaking matured into a “legitimate” industry in the US, the various arms of the business were rigidly formed to fit conventional output. The conservatism that this engendered made the American industry ill-equipped at marketing anything too unconventional or experimental. While Hollywood insiders were lamenting European filmmakers artistically outdoing Americans—especially following the US release of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)—very few people with the power to shape the industry did anything to support experimentation. Given this environment, Salomé could only have been produced independently, but the quickly ossifying distribution and promotional systems didn’t have the range to give it a proper release. Two films contemporary to Salomé, Beggar on Horseback (1925) and The Old Swimmin’ Hole (1921) offer further evidence of the industry’s limitations.

The Old Swimmin’ Hole is a feature-length production by Charles Ray, experimental in that it uses no intertitles. The story is simple and familiar with Ray playing the Huck-Finn-type character he was well known for. Ray’s experiment was not an expensive one and the film was successful. However, decision makers at First National, the film’s distributors, felt that The Old Swimmin’ Hole was simply too complex for small-town Americans to comprehend and it wasn’t released outside of cities. To put it plainly, the distributor’s unfounded concept of ignorant yokels meant that a film about country living was largely inaccessible to anyone actually living in the country. Though the film was well received and turned a profit, this distribution decision likely limited its audience as well as possible revenue from small-town exhibition.

Stills from The Old Swimmin’ Hole from Motion Picture Magazine, April 1921

Beggar on Horseback was produced by one of the biggest studios in Hollywood, Famous Players-Lasky, and distributed by Paramount. Starring comedian Edward Everett Horton, Beggar was an expressionist comedy based on a popular play. The film had a popular star, popular source material, and was made and released by a major company, but Beggar was apparently too unconventional for that major company to adequately market it. (Unfortunately, only a few minutes of the film survive, so we can’t fully reassess it unless more is found/identified!)

Stills from Beggar on Horseback from Picture-Play Magazine, August 1925

With all these complicating factors at play, how might have Salomé found its audience in 1922-3? Nazimova and Charles Bryant had innovative ideas for the film’s release that might have done the trick, if they had been able to act on them. Nazimova and Sam Zimbalist had finished cutting Salomé in late-spring 1922. Having spent practically all of her money to finish the film, and following A Doll’s House’s disappointing results, Nazimova was eager for Salomé to hit theatres. Though the film was in the can and private preview screenings had been held by Bryant by summer ‘22, Salomé wouldn’t be released until February of 1923. In studio filmmaking, holding a film in extended abeyance wasn’t ideal but it was not disastrous. Studios had significantly more resources and revenue streams than independent producers. If, for example, the release of Billions had been delayed for seven months, Nazimova still had two films on the Metro exchanges (and therefore in theatres) and Camille would have entered production in the meantime. But for Nazimova as an independent producer, this situation was wholly untenable. (In fact, Pickford, Fairbanks, and Griffith were in a similar untenable situation when they founded Allied.)

Initially, Bryant proposed roadshowing Salomé. Roadshowing is a release strategy for notable film productions where a film is toured around major cities, often with in-person engagements by stars, writers, and/or directors. Nazimova expanded the idea of touring with Salomé not simply as a roadshow, but paired with a short play in which she would star. Double the Alla, double the fun. As far as I can tell, there isn’t publicly available information about why Salomé wasn’t roadshowed. However, we do know that Griffith, as the only non-performer in UA, wanted to utilize different approaches for the release of his films—like roadshowing—and it became one of the major points of disagreement with his fellow UA decision makers. That could be taken as an indication that something similar might have occurred with Nazimova and Allied.

As time dragged on without a release date for Salomé and Nazimova returned to theatrical work—openly admitting to audiences that she was broke—Bryant took matters into his own hands. At the end of December 1922, Bryant negotiated with the owner of the Criterion Theatre in New York City for Salomé to run on New Year’s as a special presentation. In two days, Salomé grossed $2,630, setting records for the theatre. Adjusted for inflation, that’s $48,988.96. It was successful enough that the owner of the Criterion opted to hold the film over. This bold move must have lit a fire under Allied’s tuckuses, as Salomé finally had its first-run release a little over a month later.

In the 1920s, the first-run booking of a film was a crucial part of its further success. Concurrent nationwide release of films wasn’t the norm yet, and if a film was a big production, getting booked at high-capacity motion picture houses in major cities was a necessity. These big city releases would, in theory, generate interest in the film with exhibitors across the country and internationally. Basically, if you spent a lot on a movie but couldn’t land a first-run release, you weren’t likely to turn a profit or even break even. Salomé had a handful of first-run bookings and local reviewers from those cities believed the film would succeed. A reviewer from the Boston Transcript in February 1923 wrote:

“…this newest Salome is something far better than a photographed play. Considered both as picture acting, and as an interesting experiment in design, “Salome” is a notable production. It will have a far and wide reaching influence on future films in this country.”

But, as I mentioned, only a handful of first-run theatres played Salomé, and, taken collectively, the notices I analyzed from contemporary trades imply that it didn’t gain traction once it was made available beyond its initial run.

My cosplay of Nazimova as Salomé

During this regrettably short theatrical run, exhibitors and reviewers from trade publications advised that Salomé was a unique film that called for unique promotion. The overall assumption was that theatre owners knew their patrons and recognised whether out-of-the-ordinary movies were popular with them. Rather than purely judging a film’s quality, exhibitors and trade reviewers had concerns specific to exhibition when providing feedback. These concerns cannot be overlooked if you want to understand their assessments. For example, exhibitor feedback was very often informed by how high the rental fees were for a film, even if exhibitors don’t directly mention said fees. That is to say, a mediocre film might be rated highly if the rental fees were modest (and if block booking wasn’t an issue). Reviewers in the early 1920s, both for popular magazines and trade publications, were already accustomed to the formulaic nature of most studio output. Their reviews commonly expressed fatigue with studio films’ lack of originality. And, perhaps surprisingly, this sentiment was shared among theatre owners as well—particularly when a run-of-the-mill film was sold to them as anything other than a “programmer” (a precursor to B-movies).

What I have learned, not just by analyzing feedback for Salomé, but also for all of the films in my LBnF series, is that when a 1920s reviewer calls out bizarreness in a film, it’s not always a negative quality, even when the review isn’t positive. In the case of reviews written for exhibitors/theatre owners, focussing on what makes a movie different is purely pragmatic. It guides how exhibitors might market films to patrons and helps exhibitors judge if a film would be suitable for their audiences. And, from that same research, I’ve found significant indications there were numerous markets throughout the US that were hungry for novelty—contrary to what studio apparatchiks wanted to admit. So, pointing out Salomé’s bizarreness was a recommendation for those markets to consider renting it as much as it was a warning against renting for theatre owners who only had success with more conventional films.

Cover of the Campaign Book for Salomé reproduced in Exhibitors Herald, 9 February 1924

In the case of Salomé, reviews and feedback upon its release focused on two major points:

 The film isn’t “adult” in nature. Well-known productions of Strauss’ opera and the 1918 Theda Bara film of the same name led to a presumption of salaciousness. (I talked a bit about that in Part One!)

The film deserves/requires a build up as an artistic event film.

Nazimova’s company helped exhibitors with the latter point in a few ways. The company provided Aubrey Beardsley inspired art posters conceived by Natacha Rambova and executed by Eugene Gise. They printed a book to guide promotion of an artistic spectacle. (So far, I haven’t been able to find a physical or digital copy, so I can’t assess how good the advice was!) Salomé was also distributed with an official musical score, apparently written for a full orchestra.

Art Posters designed by Rambova and painted by Gise as reproduced in Exhibitor’s Trade Review, 10 February 1923

The exhibitors who ran Salomé—and put at least some of this advice into practice—were satisfied with the business it did. By these accounts, the American moviegoing public was attracted by the novelty of Salomé, but what chance were they given to see it?

While this evidence of Allied’s poor distribution work may be circumstantial, it certainly complicates the narratives that Salomé was an unqualified flop or that average Americans weren’t (or aren’t) receptive to artistic experimentation. Given that Nazimova was not the only independent filmmaker who suffered from Allied’s inept distribution, it does seem like the underwhelming business Salomé did was due more to a poor choice of business partners than to any quality of the film or of American moviegoers. That said, with the increasing monopolization of the industry, Nazimova did not have a wealth of options.

Though Salomé was made and released at an tumultuous period for the US film industry, it did eventually find its audience through circulation in art cinemas. As the gap between experimental/avant-garde film widened in the US and the professional industry became less and less tolerant of departures from convention, Americans concerned with film as an art form rallied around amateur filmmaking clubs and art cinemas began popping up in cities by the middle of the decade. Salomé played in these theatres even after the advent of sound—occasionally even today. This is likely the key reason that Salomé survives and we’ve been able to continue to enjoy and reevaluate it one hundred years later.

Salomé is a significant film made at a significant moment in American film history. Nazimova took a major risk in going independent and personally funding two artistic projects. These films were founded on the beliefs that American moviegoers wanted art made by human beings with unique imaginations, feelings, sensibilities and that there was an audience for more than derivative, “machine-made” film. In my opinion, through close analysis of the circumstances of Salomé‘s release, we can see that Nazimova was likely correct, but didn’t get a genuine chance to prove it in her lifetime. Additionally, it’s important to note that Nazimova’s risks did not “ruin” her as is occasionally said. The state of her finances were more greatly affected in the 1920s by her fake husband’s habit of spending her money and by getting swindled by a pair of con artists over her estate, The Garden of Alla. Soldiering on, Nazimova continued to work in both theatre and film for the rest of her life and found more stability with the partner she would meet at the end of the 1920s, Glesca Marshall.

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Once I finished this “Cosplay the Classics” entry, I realized that it would way too much for me to include a section on another relevant topic to Salomé: Orientalism in Hollywood. But, I feel that the topic is too important to just edit that writing out. Look out for a shorter “postscript” entry soon!

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Footnotes:

[1] Danse Macabre is also thought to be a major influence on Walt Disney animating to music, as seen in “Silly Symphonies” and later Fantasia (1940) and Disney’s other musical anthology features. It was also in this period that Disney fled from his debtors in the Midwest to California with his first “Alice” movie. However, the wide-ranging effects of Disney’s business practices were not felt until much later, so that’s another story for another time!

[2] Nazimova was one of a handful of women in Hollywood at the time who held significant creative power. June Mathis and Natacha Rambova, both of whom Nazimova regularly worked with, Mary Pickford and her regular tag-team partner Frances Marion are among some of the others.

[3] Chaplin wouldn’t produce a film for UA until 1923’s A Woman of Paris, as he was fulfilling a pre-existing contract with another studio.

[4] According to Gavin Lambert’s biography of Nazimova (which I discussed as a largely unreliable source in Part One), Robert Florey supposedly advised Nazimova against signing with them, citing Max Linder and Charles Ray as artists who had been “ruined” by their deals. However, the timeline does not quite match up. Though Florey did visit the set of Salomé, Nazimova had already signed the Allied deal by then and Ray had not finished The Courtship of Miles Standish (1923) when Salomé was in production. In fact, there was almost a year and a half between the completion of Salomé and the release of Standish. Whether this was a lapse of memory by Florey or misreporting by Lambert, I can’t be sure.

[5] Originally, I wanted to include Madonna of the Streets (1924) in my comparisons but, at the moment, Lantern has gaps in their Moving Picture World archive for 1924-5. I didn’t want to draw conclusions from incomplete data.

[6] Billions was also a Rambova-Nazimova collaboration. Rambova designed a fantasy sequence for the film.

[7] A mindset that’s still common among commercial media outlets today unfortunately. I could rant and rant about “content” and “content creation” all day but that’s another story for another time.

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Bibliography/Further Reading

(This isn’t an exhaustive list, but covers what’s most relevant to the essay above!)

Lost, but Not Forgotten: A Doll’s House (1922)

“Nazimova in Repertoire” in Motion Picture News, 29 October 1921

“Alla Nazimova Plans for Her New Pictures” in Moving Picture World, 29 October 1921

“Nazimova Abandons Dual Program for Latest Film” in Exhibitors Herald, 24 December 1921

“Plays and Players”in Photoplay, February 1922

“PICTORIAL SECTION” in Exhibitors Herald, 4 February 1922

“New Nazimova Film May Be Roadshowed“ in Exhibitors Herald, 15 April 1922

“Newspaper Opinions” in The Film Daily, 3 January 1923

“Splendid Production Values But No Kick in Nazimova’s ‘Salome’” in The Film Daily, 7 January 1923

“Claims “Salome” Hit New Mark at N. Y. Criterion” in Exhibitors Herald, 27 January 1923

“Salome” in Exhibitors Trade Review, 20 January 1923

“Nazimova in SALOME” in Exhibitors Herald, 27 January 1923

“Nazimova Appeals To Exhibitors In Behalf of ‘Salome’” in Exhibitor’s Trade Review, 27 January 1923

“Novelty Features Paper and Ads for ‘Salome’” in Exhibitor’s Trade Review, 10 February 1923

“SALOME’ —Class AA” from Screen Opinions, 15 February 1923

Nazimova: A Biography by Gavin Lambert (Note: I do not recommend this without caveat even though it’s the only monograph biography of Nazimova. Lambert did a commendable amount of research but his presentation of that research is ruined by misrepresentations, factual errors, and a general tendency to make unfounded assumptions about Nazimova’s motivations and personal feelings.)

Lovers of Cinema: The First American Avant-Garde 1919-1945 ed. Jan-Christopher Horak (most notably, “The First American Avant-Garde 1919-1945” by Horak, “The Limits of Experimentation in Hollywood” by Kristin Thompson, and “Startling Angles: Amateur Film and the Early Avant-Garde” by Patricia R. Zimmermann)

United Artists: The Company Built by the Stars, Vol. 1 1919-1950 by Tino Balio