#mugging to the camera‚ reciting poetry (his own and others; literary and dirty) and baring his soul. I've never seen anything quite like it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariocki · 1 month

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Fat Man on a Beach (HTV, 1974)

"I'm going to read some more poems now. Erm. It may be that if you want to go and have a cup of tea, this would be a good time. I know that's what you masses are like. The mention of poetry and off you go."

#fat man on a beach #b.s. johnson #classic tv #documentary #htv #michael bakewell #aled vaughan #a frankly incredible and truly unique piece of television. according to Johnson's biographer‚ the novelist Jonathan Coe‚ this film was #described in tv listings at the time as a documentary about Porth Ceiriad‚ a rather beautiful beach on the Llŷn Peninsula in North Wales #it.. is not that. i can only imagine the baffled reactions of an idle audience tuning into HTV in 1974. true‚ this is entirely filmed at #Porth Ceiriad‚ but any element of travelogue (or even really of documentary) is dispelled almost immediately: the first lines heard are #those of an unseen narrator who tells us we are about to watch a film about a fat man on a beach. 'Do you really want to watch that?' he #asks incredulously. it's a challenge‚ the first of several from Johnson‚ who spends the next 40 minutes variously pottering about the sands #mugging to the camera‚ reciting poetry (his own and others; literary and dirty) and baring his soul. I've never seen anything quite like it #I'm not sure that much has been made that is quite like it tbh. Johnson was a fiercely original‚ brilliant mind; he was a novelist #a poet‚ a critic and a filmmaker. he was also‚ when this first aired on uk tv‚ dead. a few weeks after completing filming on this‚ his #final work‚ he sadly took his own life. i mention it not as a grim factoid but because it is a vital contextualisation of this film; the #play has been described before (and play is not the right word) as a sort of loose form manifesto from Johnson‚ a laying out of his own #peculiar philosophies and interests in a disjointed manner‚ peppered with asides and distractions and filming mishaps (all kept in the #final product). for me‚ the feeling was inescapable that this was like viewing a suicide note. whether Johnson had already come to some #conclusion on that front or not‚ the fact is that his own obsession with morbidity‚ with the spectre of death and of decay (it runs right #through his work‚ particularly his work in film) transforms this into something almost confessional. there's a section of the film where #the author recalls witnessing the aftermath of a traffic accident‚ a motorcyclist thrown through wire fencing and sliced like cheese #the absurdity of the comparison is lingered on‚ Johnson almost stalls and appears to lose his train of thought (briefly discussing instead #the modern mass production of cheese) but he also seems clearly affected‚ delivering the tale in a halting‚ reverent tone #not that this is all darkness and gloom; it's just as often funny‚ or surreal (the film frequently cuts away to a bunch of bananas‚ only #later explained by one of Johnson's biographical recollections) and includes visual puns‚ bad jokes and a few moments of physical comedy #the writer doesn't seem distressed. rather‚ he seems... if not at peace‚ then as though he has come to terms. confident in his own beliefs #and ideals. but perhaps that's reaching too far‚ or reading in what the viewer wishes to read in. the sad fact is that Johnson took his own #life‚ but he left us with a body of work unlike almost anything else‚ and which is still being celebrated and analysed today. rip bsj

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