Osvaldo Golijov

Earlier this year I was introduced, courtesy of a friend, to the music of Osvaldo Golijov (b. 1960). The music of Golijov, who was born and grew up in Argentinia of East European and Judaic descent, draws upon a wide spectrum including experimental and electronic, Jazz and Pop, Klezmer music, the Tango and the folk traditions of World music. In addition to these varied musical influences Golijov has been well-qualified to absorbing world-wide music languages in his career. He moved from Argentina to Israel in 1983 to study music at the Rubin Academy at Jerusalem. In 1986  he relocated to America where he has taught music at the College of the Holy Cross, Worcester, Massachusetts since 1991.  

The music-making of the Latin-American world, the city of Jerusalem and medieval Spain are of special inspirational value to Golijov. Each of these locations were once seminal places at the crossroads of overlapping cultures, where Christian, Muslim and Jew once peacefully co-existed.

I was probably in a highly-charged emotional state last winter anyway when first hearing the electrifying incantation by singer Dawn Upshaw which opens Ayre (2004). Golijov's song-cycle was influenced by a creative urge to create a companion work to Luciano Berio’s Folk Songs (1964) which draws upon traditional melodies from America, Armenia, Sicily, Genoa, Sardinia, the Auvergne and Azerbaijan. Golijov’s song cycle is no less eclectic and diverse than Berio's. It features the music of southern Spain and the intermingling of Christian, Arab and Jewish cultures with texts from the Sephardic, Arabic, Hebrew and Sardinian languages.

The influence of Berio’s folk-song cycle is most evident in the gentle and traditional Sephardic song which follows the incandescent opening. The next song Tancas serradas a muru in stark contrast is defiant and aggressive, near punk and urban rap-like in style, comes as a complete shock to those who imagine the performing persona of classically-trained singer Dawn Upshaw to be confined to the demure. Her reciting of Be a string, water, to my guitar a calm, reflective, unaccompanied poem is insightful, while the song Yah , annah emtza’cha, aurally and vividly depicts the era of medieval Spain in which Muslim, Jewish and Christian cultures once lived harmoniously. Golijov explains why Medieval Spain and the era of peaceful inter-relationship of religious faiths is close to his heart when commenting upon his song-cycle-

'With a little bend, a melody goes from Jewish to Arab to Christian. How connected these cultures are and how terrible it is when they don’t understand each. The grief that we are living in the world today has already happened for centuries but somehow harmony was possible between these civilizations’

The song-cycle Ayre is one of several Golijov compositions written specifically with the qualities and interpretative insight of the mezzo-soprano Dawn Upshaw and her gorgeous singing voice in mind. The subject of the strengths and weaknesses of composers writing with specific voices in mind may well re-surface in musical discussion next year when the centenary of the British composer Benjamin Britten (b.Lowestoft 1913) occurs. Britten wrote many song-cycles and opera parts specifically with the voice of his longtime partner the tenor Peter Pear in mind. Whether or not vocal works written for one specific voice in performance and interpretation can be completely replicated by another, remains an open question. 

Dawn Upshaw’s recording of the song-cycle Ayre concludes evoking Greek mythology with the tale of Ariadne in the labyrinth, a tense, mysterious and coiling musical theme which highlights the instrumental playing of the chamber ensemble, the Andalucian Dogs, as it slowly fades into silence.  Golijov’s final song in the cycle perfectly highlights the cross-fertilization of  musical cultures within the Mediterranean basin far better than words ever can. Golijov himself spoke of the creative motivation of composing his song-cycle-

The idea is to create a forest and for Dawn to walk in it. There is no real sense of ‘form’ –in the sense of Beethovian development – but rather lots of detours and discoveries’.

The title alone of the opera Ainadamar (Arabic: Fountain of Tears) appealed to me as the next work by Golijov work worth hearing. The opera’s title alludes to an ancient well near Granada in Spain where the poet Federico Garcia Lorca was murdered by Spanish Fascists in August 1936. First performed at the Tanglewood Festival in August 2003 Ainadamar is primarily based upon traditional Spanish music, in particular the Flamenco style.  Once more the hypnotic voice of Dawn Upshaw is featured, this time performing as Margarita Xirgu,  a Catalan tragedian and Lorca's lover and muse, who collaborated with him on several of his plays. Without wanting to post spoilers there's a very startling moment in Golijov's opera about Garcia Lorca’s murder. In recent times the terror and trauma of the Spanish civil war is the backdrop for film-director Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) a harrowing account of an episode in the Spanish civil war interlinked with a fantasy world of magical realism.

Japan: Kingdom of Characters

Recently I had the pleasure of visiting the Sainsbury Centre at the University of East Anglia (UEA) for an exhibition organized by the Japanese Foundation entitled Japan : Kingdom of Characters. On an all-too-rare day of settled summer weather it was well worth the short cycle-ride from home to view.

The informative guidebook to the Kingdom of Characters exhibition explains that Japanese people have established strong ties with manga and anime characters; in effect, such characters have forged a powerful bond with the Japanese psyche, sometimes as a replacement for family and friends. In essence, many of the rich and imaginative characters of Japanese manga and anime have developed as compensation and comfort against the stresses and alienation of life in megapolis cities. And for these reasons it's not always easy for Westerners to appreciate manga and anime's enormous popularity in Japan. A sizeable percentage of Japanese society was profoundly psychologically dislocated as a result of the rapid  growth, industrialization and urbanization which Japanese population underwent in the twentieth century. In some ways manga and anime characters have also provided comfort for the solitary and lonely as well as the survivors of the many disasters Japan has experienced throughout its history. From the atomic bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 to the cataclysmic natural disasters of the Kobe earthquake of 1995 to the simultaneous disasters of earthquake, Tsunami, nuclear power-plant meltdown and subsequent radio-active fears of 2011, Japan has always been vulnerable, not only to ecological disasters but also to man-made catastrophes.

From the early 1950’s manga characters such as Tetuswan Atom (Astro Boy), Japanese anime has debated on humanity’s relationship to science, on the differences between robots and humans, the future of humanity in sci-fi worlds, often of a post-apocalyptic nature and the moral issues of living in a technologically sophisticated, yet alienating megapolis. Alongside an advanced technological and scientific perspective, the remnants of superstition and a fascination with the spirit world in the popular psyche often feature in Japanese anime. Typically, the ghost in the machine in Japanese anime speaks with the voice of a long-lost ancestral spirit.

There’s a considerable amount of mass-produced merchandise associated with Japanese anime; the Kingdom of Characters exhibition even re-creates a teenage girl’s bedroom crowded with the paraphernalia of her favourite anime characters, some of whom have achieved global popularity. The Tamagotchi ‘egg-watch’ digital electronic pet has now sold in excess of 76 million since 1996, while the characters of Pokemon and Hello Kitty (photo above) are instantly recognized and loved by many throughout the world.

Far removed from the cute and kitsch world of Hello Kitty with subject-matter unsuitable for any public exhibition, Toshio Maeda's notorious Urotsukidōji: Chōjin Densetsu, lit. Wandering Kid: The Legend of the Super God (1986-90) is a seminal anime work which features strong hentai elements of graphic sex.

Puzzlingly to western sensibilities Maeda's controversial Urotsukidōji mixes plots and genres seemingly unrelated to each other - horror, comedy, disaster, the supernatural and teen-age romance are all juxtaposed in random sequence. This effect is heightened further by the severe editing which Maedea’s flawed masterpiece has suffered at the hands of the British Board of Censors. Besides indulging in extreme eroticism and violence Urotsukidōji depicts an alternate world in which  the battle of good and evil is fought on a cosmic scale between mankind, beasts and demons. Urotsukidōji also includes an example of so-called tentacle erotica. The origins of tentacle erotica can be traced to an illustration by Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai's (1760-1849) The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife an influential example of Shunga (Japanese erotic art). The subject of tentacle eroticism has been explored by a number of artists, but perhaps none with such notoriety as Toshio Maedea’s interpretation. Maedea returned to tentacle eroticism in his equally infamous horror/sex comedy series La Blue Girl (1992-94).

Japanese anime has also been used a vehicle to discuss romance, sexuality and spirituality. In Takahashi Rumiki’s romantic-comedy Urusei Yatsura (1978-87) the bikini-clad Lum possesses the fatal combination of a bad temper in conjunction with magical powers as elements of her adolescent love-life. The relationship between sexuality and magic is never far from the surface in Rumiki’s dark fantasy Mermaid Forest (1991) which develops an ancient Japanese legend, that mermaid's flesh grants immortality if eaten. However, there's also the risk that eating it may also lead to death or transformation into a lost soul or damned creature.

Other notable landmarks in the history Japanese anime include Masamune Shirow’s  Ghost in the Shell (1995) in which a cyborg heroine with human consciousness questions her own identity - Perfect Blue (1997) a Hitchcock-like psycho-thriller and Hiroyuki Kitakabo’s Blood: The Last Vampire (2000) which sets the vampire myth on an American occupation air-base. Each of the aforementioned has in one way or another advanced the art of Japanese anima in either genre and story-telling and/or computer-generated graphic design.

Bad As Me

The album of  2011? It just has to be Tom Waits Bad as Me (released October 21st). As the Rolling Stone review says, the timing of the release of Waits' new album is impeccable. 

TomWaits (born Los Angeles, U.S.A. December 7th 1949) Happy Birthday Tom ! has for decades enacted persona from the underbelly of the American Dream, the dispossessed, down-and-outs, hard drinkers, lonesome drifters and out-of-luck gamblers in the era of the Great Depression, such characters surviving  in dire straits come sharply alive now in the New Depression.

Waits and his extraordinary voice has become a true American phenomenon and a world-wide star; utterly archetypal in his persona, his voice croons, bellows, growls, barks and snarls with characters walking straight out of the pages of a Damon Runyan short story with more than a nod to American literary giants such as William Burroughs, Charles Bukowski and Jack Kerouac. The present state of Waits' voice is show-cased in  Glitter and Doom (2009) recorded live at various venues on tour. A showman in the true sense of the word, Waits has also developed his acting career in several film roles, most recently as the sinister Mr. Nick in Terry Gilliam's metaphysical fantasy, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus (2009).

Bad as Me is Tom Waits' 17th  album no less, since his debut recording in 1973. Although essentially rooted in R ‘n’B music, Waits shifts from genre to genre with ease  – from Cuban Salsa to Metal, from Beat poet Jazz monologues to Weimar Republic-style Cabaret, from Vaudeville to Gospel and Blues. His song-writing is a compendium of American music.  I can't think of any other singer/song-writer who has recorded in such a wide spectrum of genres or another singer capable of comparable vocal gymnastics (his vocal range encompasses 7 octaves) with perhaps the exception of the East German opera-trained, one time Punk rocker, Nina Hagen. And indeed Waits performs a Nina Hagen-style number in German on Alice (2002) entitled Kommienienzuspadt.

I'm All Right Jack

John and Roy Boulting's  I'm All Right Jack (1959)  is a hilarious satire on society and industrial relations in post-war Britain. With a script full of witty dialogue and with consummate skill, the Boulting brothers portray all levels of a once rigid British society, greatly assisted by the cream of British actors of the time. The star-studded cast of I'm All Right Jack includes Ian Carmichael, Peter Sellers, Terry-Thomas, Richard Attenborough, Dennis Price, Margaret Rutherford, Irene Handl, John Le Mesurier and Liz Fraser. 

The comedy begins when affable but naive upper-class Stanley Windrush (Ian Carmichael, above) is finally obliged to embark upon a career. His uncle finds him employment in a missile factory where he meets pseudo-Bolshevik trade Union leader Mr. Kite (Peter Sellers). Stanley quickly accepts Mr. Kite's offer of accommodation upon sighting his glamorous daughter (Liz Fraser, above) who works at the ammunition  factory as a so-called 'spindle-polisher'. 

The collective British work-force are depicted in  I'm All Right Jack as intent upon doing as little work as possible and ever eager upon the slightest pre-text to strike. The humour is subtle but effective. When on strike, after a morning of playing cards and darts, the lunch-bell sounds. "Blimey, it's all go today, mate" declares one worker. The power of the Trade unions, led by the fanatical and ideologically-blinkered trade union leader Mr.Kite is shown in a most unfavourable light. In a role which won Peter Sellers a British Academy Best Actors award, Mr. Kite's rigid adherence to supposed Bolshevik principles is fatally flawed. He's never travelled to Russia and is ignorant of the true human cost of the 'Glorious Revolution' and its consequences under Stalin. When Kite's wife herself decides to go on strike, withdrawing all home labour, leaving him to live alone, he soon sinks into utter domestic squalor. In the meantime, Kite's one-time lodger Stanley Windrush refuses to strike and continues attending work. The media applaud his strike-breaking and crowds throng  outside the home of his aunt Dolly, (Margaret Rutherford) calling out his name and hailing him a National hero. The  film's denouement occurs at a  live TV debate hosted by Malcolm Muggeridge. With his eyes finally open to international business corruption within his family, Stanley Windrush declares money to be the only source of interest and motivation to all concerned. Opening a suitcase full of bribery money he casts handfuls of bank-notes into the air. A mad scramble among members of the TV studio audience ensues. 

Although it's a film over 50 years old,  Roy and John Boulting's social satire retains its relevance. Indeed such was the film's success that its title lives on in common parlance as a cheeky quip of self- interest and complacent indifference to the circumstances of others. I'm All Right Jack  also questions dubious aspects of British culture and morality; the Boulting brothers primary target being the notorious ineptitude of British management which is portrayed as corrupt at all levels. At the heart of the film lies the under-stated question about the moral integrity of manufacturing and export of military weapons, an export which effectively contributes no small percentage towards Britain's GDP today. Filmed after the Suez crisis of 1956 which demoted Britain's place in the world, the character of Mr. Mohammed, a Fez-wearing diplomat engaged in acquiring a large shipment of missiles, takes on a more than stereotypical role in the comedy, hinting that Britain even sells weapons to its enemies, as indeed it does. The  rise of the media and its power, along with youth culture in the form of a skiffle-based theme music and the vacuous intellect of matinee glamour girl Cynthia (Liz Fraser) are also featured. But above all else, as with all good satire, the Boulting brother's film clearly highlights moral decline, in particular the relatively new trend of self-interest in British society. 


Fifty years after I'm All Right Jack was first screened, the less privileged members of British society, that is, the vast majority, are now suffering the consequences of corruption and greed in high places as humorously depicted in I'm All Right Jack. Nevertheless although its hard to imagine there's much of a joke or comedy to be made from the present-day economic crisis facing Europe, its worth remembering that humour and laughter are good medicine for difficult times.    

Wiki-Link -  Boulting brothers

La Strada

La Strada by the Italian film-director Federico Fellini (1920-93) is the story of the relationship between strong-man performer Zampano (Anthony Quinn) and his assistant Gelsomina (Giulietta Masina). It's the film which won the first ever Oscar for Best Foreign Language in 1954 and in which Fellini subtly side-steps the agenda of Italian Neo-realism to develop his own unique perspective upon  human nature.

Zampano, arriving at a remote coastal hovel, offers 10,000 lira to Gelsomina's impoverished mother to take her daughter away with him. Together Zampano and Gelsomina traverse Italy on a motor-cycle caravan making a meagre living by Zampano's performing a strong-man act in which, expanding his chest he breaks apart the links of an iron chain. However Zampano is also an unfeeling bully who, although training Gelsomina as his assistant, treats her little better, if not worse than a dog, speaking little and expressing no feelings towards her. Yet Gelsomina endures her cruel treatment, having no other person, home or income. When she and Zampano join the Circus troop of one Senior Giraffa, the real tragedy begins to unfold; soon during their brief time as circus performers, they encounter the Fool, a daring tight-rope walker with an unexplained antipathy toward Zampano. The Fool admits that he himself does not know the reason behind his dislike of Zampano and with a frequently irritating giggle needlessly taunts and ridicules him. The Fool's teasing of Zampano leads to tragic consequences upon the lives and destiny of all three central characters.

It's been suggested that the character of the Fool is a voice-piece for Fellini who experienced a serious clinical depression during the production of La Strada, in particular the romantic heart-to-heart moment  when the Fool confesses to Gelsomina -

Everything has a purpose. I don’t know the purpose of this stone, I’d have to be God to know that. But it has one. Because if it’s useless all is useless, even the stars.

In contrast to the Fool's sensitivity and understanding of human nature (except his own) the brutish Zampano when finally pressed by Gelsomina about the contents of his inner life boorishly declares - there's nothing to think about.

Fellini’s La Strada (The Road) is unusual in its casting of two American actors, starring Anthony Quinn (1915-2001) as the bomber jacket clad, motor-biking strong-man Zampano and Richard Basehart (1914-84) as the enigmatic Fool. But it is the Italian actress Giulietta Masina (1921-1994) as the innocent dreamer Gelsomina who steals the limelight. Masina's rapid, highly expressive and fluent facial features speak swifter than words throughout the film. As the unloved and maltreated Gelsomina, Giulietta Masina, with a nod towards Charlie Chaplin's world-famous tramp, creates her own clown-like pathos. Masina who was Fellini's wife for fifty years, spoke of  the English-born comic genius and Hollywood's first superstar thus  -

‘Chaplin deeply moves me. My husband and I cannot watch any of his films in it entirety. We are always so stirred that we have to leave the theatre before the end of the projection. He’s a great artist. He saw our film in England and declared during a press conference that Gelsomina was his spiritual daughter’.

The back-drop to La Strada includes shots not only of Italy's varied landscape but also the numerous apartment blocks which sprang up in towns throughout Italy in the 1950's. It's against the back-drop of a desolate mezzo-montano landscape that Zampano finally abandons Gemolina to her fate, even though she is  seriously mentally traumatized by events. For many years after making La Strada both Federico Fellini and his wife Guiletta Masina would regularly receive fan-mail from women who declared their lives and destinies were similar to those of Gelsomina or of being trapped in a  loveless relationship with a Zampano-like person. 

The soundtrack to La Strada is composed by Fellini's life-time musical collaborator, Nino Rota (1911-1979) who also composed the soundtrack to The Godfather. Nino's score is not merely incidental, but integral to the film and features some very modern-sounding Mambo-style music in a cafe scene, in which Zampano abandons Gelsomina for a one-night affair, collecting her from the street the next morning without a word of explanation for his behaviour. It's the Fool who teaches Gelsomina to play a slightly melancholy melody upon the trumpet. Not wanting to state spoilers, Gelsomina's poignant trumpet tune lives on to become a sharp prick upon Zampano's conscience, haunting him when hearing it several years later. The importance of this melodic theme for the actress Gulietta Masina can be gauged by the fact that when Fellini  died at the age of 73, a day after their fiftieth wedding anniversary, she requested the theme music of  La Strada entitled Improvviso dell'Angelo by Nino Rota to be played during her husband's funeral ceremony held in Rome.

Shortly after making La Strada Fellini became fascinated with his own inner world of dream imagery which subsequently became a rich fuel for his creativity. He also began to take an interest in parapsychology and the psychology of Carl Jung, reading his autobiography Memories, Dreams, Reflections (1963). Fellini once stated-

In dreams there is nothing without significance. Every image therefore also has significance in the film. There is no such thing as coincidence, there is nothing unwanted, extraneous in a dream. Nothing is without significance. Each colour, each picture means something, nothing has been put there in order to resemble reality, or in order to copy something pre-existent. This is the thing that gives film its heraldic, aristocratic identity, which puts it on a level with all other forms of art.

Along with a growing interest in dreams, parapsychology and the psychology of C.G. Jung, Fellini in 1964, under the supervision of his analyst, experimented with the drug LSD. For many years he was reserved about what happened to him one Sunday afternoon after ingesting LSD, however in 1992 a year before his death, Fellini  spoke of his experience thus-

'objects and their functions no longer had any significance. All I perceived was perception itself, the hell of forms and figures devoid of human emotion and detached from the reality of my unreal environment. I was an instrument in a virtual world that constantly renewed its own meaningless image in a living world that was itself perceived outside of nature. And since the appearance of things was no longer definitive but limitless, this paradisical awareness freed me from the reality external to my self. The fire and the rose, as it were, became one.

The leisurely pace of La Strada, surely one of the earliest of all 'Road-Movies', allows Fellini to introduce curious scenarios and settings which anticipate his predilection for dream-imagery, the surreal and even the grotesque in his later films. Examples of Fellini's 'dream-imagery' are abundant throughout 8½ (1963), Juliet of the Spirits (1965), Satyricon (1969) and in Roma (1972). The near-obsessive excesses of Fellini's dream-imagery are manifest in less critically acclaimed films such as his homage to Casanova (1976).

Fellini's La Strada goes beyond the constraints of Italian neo-realist cinema with its insistence upon realistic depiction of the lives of ordinary, working-class Italians struggling in the economic conditions of post-war Italy. Fellini's  portrait of the socio-path Zampano and the weak and indecisive Gelsomina, shifts far from the rigid agenda of Italian neo-realism into the realm of psychological portraiture and motivations of the psyche. But above all else La Strada besides including a sometimes disturbing pathology of a man who is unable to express his feelings, explores  the mystery of love and the deep need inside the human soul to both give and receive love.

Dance of Death

At present there's a season of films by the Swedish film-director Ingmar Bergman being broadcast on Channel 4. Included in the season is Bergman's classic film, 'The Seventh Seal' (1957). Early in the film one of the most iconic images of cinema is depicted, the figures of  Death and a Knight playing a game of Chess by the sea. 'The Seventh Seal' makes several such references to the 'Dance of Death', a frequently-worked theme by the medieval artist. 

It was during the Medieval era that the Black Death occurred. The pandemic reached its peak in the years 1348-50 and is believed to have devastated Europe's population by an estimated 40-60%. In addition, high infant mortality, poor sanitary conditions, crop failure, war and famine resulted in a short life for many. Because death was ever-present in the lives of all strata of medieval society, the 'Dance of Death' became a frequently-worked morality genre for artists, featuring in mystery plays and printed wood-cuts; however the sole surviving medieval stained glass depicting the 'Dance of Death' in England can be found at Norwich, in the church of Saint Andrew's.

The city of Norwich was once famous for the artistry of its stained-glass. In fact the city had a flourishing and distinctive school of glass painting during the 15th century. Characteristics of 'Norwich School' stained glass include excellence of drawing and colouring, motifs of ears of barley and patterns using seaweed and chequers. The Saint Andrew's glass uses the chequer pattern allegorically, perhaps as an allusion to the game of chess. According to the expert Christopher Woodforde the fifteenth century glass craftsmen of Norwich -

'avoided the suggestions of sweetness and sentimentality which mars some contemporary work….there is a bracing strength and vigour which well accords with the Norfolk climate and character'.

Throughout the county of Norfolk and in several Norwich churches superb examples of medieval stained glass can still be viewed. In Saint Andrew's stained glass window dated circa 1510, the figure of Death is seen leading a bishop by hand to his death. The message of medieval  'Dance of Death'  imagery being that all levels of society, whether pawn-like peasant, knight or bishop, are under the rule of Death.

Wall mural north of Stockholm circa 1480 

Wikilinks
 Dance of Death
Black Death
The Seventh Seal
and   Norfolk Stained Glass

Wild Strawberries

When I remember to tend a particular corner of my garden the results can be surprising. Apparently the phrase 'wild strawberries' in colloquial Swedish  alludes to an underrated gem of a place of personal or sentimental value.

Swedish film-director Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries (1957) features Victor Sjöström in his last screen appearance as retired Doctor Izak Borg, who travels from Stockholm to Lund accompanied by his daughter-in-law Marianne, (Ingrid Thulin) to be awarded a life-time honorary doctorate. 

 In some ways Wild Strawberries is an early road movie, the story centring upon a journey both external and internal. En route Dr. Borg has experiences which remind him of his past. He offers a lift to three hitch-hikers, the pert and vivacious Sara, (Bibi Andersson) with her two competitive lovers, and to an argumentative married couple who he soons asks to get out of his car for the sake of the young people.  But by far the most memorable moments in the film occur when Bergman conjures up surreal settings and imagery to portray Dr. Borg's unsettling dream world. Reviewed by critics as one of Bergman's warmer and more accessible films, Wild Strawberries nevertheless hovers in the shadowy world of  life self-assessment with its regrets and past loves.  

Wikilink - Ingmar Bergman

Femme Fatale

The French phrase femme fatale (lit. deadly woman) represents male sexual fantasies and fears as well as the sexual empowerment of women. Although portrayals of the femme fatale in literature and film have altered considerably, as a mythic creature she continues to endure. Sociologically the role of the femme fatale can be interpreted as embodying female independence and rebellion against traditional female gender roles. In Jungian psychology the femme fatale is an archetypal figure who represents the lowest manifestation of the anima in the unconscious contents of the male psyche.

Typical descriptions include her being mysterious, subversive, double-crossing, unloving, predatory, tough-sweet, unreliable, irresponsible and manipulative. She is often portrayed as a woman who is extremely attractive with a sultry voice, a provocative body and a complex character. She tends to be very intelligent, in addition to her beauty she often speaks, behaves and dresses in an unusual and striking manner designed to attract male attention. Most importantly, she is extremely dangerous; an entanglement with a femme fatale often involves devastating consequences for a man.

From the enchantress Circe’s transformation of men into pigs to the alluring song of the Sirens in Homer’s epic poem ‘The Odyssey’, to Biblical characters such as Delilah’s emasculation of Samson to Salome’s erotic dance, examples of the femme fatale occur throughout  world literature. Other notable literary characters  include Sheridan Le Fanu’s  ‘Carmilla’ and De Quiros’ Genoveva in  The Tragedy of the Street of Flowers  but there's many other portrayals of the femme fatale  scattered throughout world literature, too numerous to mention.

Depictions of the femme fatale often proliferate whenever there is rapid social change and upheaval. An early cinematic portrayal of the femme fatale can be seen in Von Sternberg’s 'The Blue Angel'  (1930) in which the infatuated fall of school-teacher professor Rath through night-club singer Lola (Marlene Dietrich) occurs. Another historical epoch  in which the role of the femme fatale  was prominent was after the social upheaval caused by World War II  in American society, as depicted in film noir cinema. Notable femme fatales in film noir include Rita Hayworth in  ‘Gilda’, Lana Turner in ‘The Postman always rings twice’ and Barbara Stanwyck in ‘Double Indemnity’.

The writings of the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung provide an illuminating  understanding of the psychological significance of the femme fatale. In Jungian psychology the femme fatale is a somewhat negative manifestation of the anima (it’s corresponding term in a woman being defined the animus). It’s worthwhile refreshing one’s understanding of the Jungian concept of the anima. Jung defined the anima as the feminine component in a man’s personality and the totality of all the unconscious feminine psychological qualities that a male possesses. In his words, woman has carried for man the living image of his own feminine soul and likewise man has carried for woman the living image of her own spirit. 

Central to Jungian psychology is the concept of projection, that is, active but unconscious thought  towards another, often towards the opposite sex. Projection in itself is neither good or bad, but an unconscious activity, it is what one does with the projection which matters. Negative effects of projection upon the anima (animus in a woman) are directly related to a man’s unawareness and devaluation of his feminine side, and vice-versa in a woman. 

According to Jung the entire process of anima development  is about the male opening up to emotionality and to a broader spirituality, this includes intuitive processes, creativity, imagination and psychic sensitivity towards himself and others. Just as the anima is the master of a man’s moods and irrational behaviour, so too the animus  is the master of opinions and judgements in a woman. Its important here to emphasis that woman is as much in the unconscious grip of her animus as man is of his anima, resulting in unconscious  judgements, opinions and over-intellectualism  at the expense of feeling in her.

Jung proposed that there were four stages of the anima in man’s psyche, these being Eve, Helen of Troy, the Virgin Mary and at the apex of development of the anima the spiritual wisdom of Sophia.  The character of the femme fatale in literature and film, the lowest rung in the sequential development of a man’s anima equivalent to the temptress of Eve takes on a clearer understanding and profounder meaning in  the light of Jung’s psychology.

The problem of relationship and  the frequent misunderstandings between the sexes  according to Jung arises from the fact that, more often that not, rather than accepting and listening to the real  and flawed person facing one, there frequently  arises unconscious  and projected anima or animus activity which overtake true relating. Whenever a man or woman fascinates us we can be sure that a projected content of the unconscious is at work. For a man, this means recognising that his moods, compulsive sexual fantasies, and insatiable restlessness have a dark feminine side at their source. For a woman it means recognising that the opinions and destructive criticisms that suddenly come into her consciousness have the inner figure of the animus behind them. 

Woman as a femme fatale  in Jung's psychology is none other than an immature and undeveloped aspect of a man's anima figure. The misunderstandings between the sexes are succinctly stated  by Jung thus -

‘no man can converse with an animus for five minutes without becoming the victim of his own anima…. The animus draws his sword of power and the anima ejects her poison of illusion and seduction’.  - CW 9 ii 29

The persona of the femme fatale divides opinions amongst sociologists. Some consider the femme fatale to be closely tied to male misogyny, while for others the role of femme fatale remains an example of female independence and a threat to traditional female gender roles. for it, ‘expresses woman's ancient and eternal control of the sexual realm’. 

Some have argued that Jung's psychology, based upon mythology, simplifies the complexities of  relationships between the sexes. What is certain however is that many years before the American pop-star Britney Spears (b. 1984) entitled her new seventh album Femme Fatale,  the German-born chanteuse, Gothic uber-fraulein and prodigy of Andy Warhol, Nico, (1938-98 photo above)  accompanied by the Velvet Underground, sang Lou Reed’s song entitled Femme Fatale in 1967. Like many self-styled femme fatale’s Nico died prematurely.

The modern femme fatale is as likely to have the same self-destructive tendencies and mental health problems which are usually associated with men, that is, problems arising from alcohol abuse, drug addiction, violence and aggression, negative effects from empowerment not resulting in true equality for women.

Jung's psychological  observations, although less fashionable than once, when fully comprehended, continue to clarify the often confused relations between the sexes today. 

Recommended reading and quotes from - The Invisible Partners: How the Male and Female in Each of Us Affects Our Relationships by John A. Sanford 1979

Black Swan

                                   Natalie Portman in Black Swan

Yesterday I attended a screening of  the latest Darren Aronofsky film, the controversial  Black Swan. Set in  New York in the gruelling world of  a Ballet company in rehearsal, it’s the story of  Nina  who has to prove herself capable of performing the dual lead role of Odette/Odile in Swan Lake. The theatrical director thinks  she is too much a perfectionist and although technically  able to perform the part of Odette, the white swan, out of touch with her inner, sexual self  to  perform the role of Odile, the black swan.

It should be remembered that in some ways the dual role of white swan/black swan in Tchaikovsky's perennial masterpiece is the Hamlet role in the ballet world. It requires that the dancer not only projects the pure innocence of the white swan heroine, but also the seductive femme fatale role of the black swan. There's  not too many dramatic roles which demand acting both the goodie and the baddie.

It’s a slow burner of a film which deliberately plays tricks upon the viewer. Natalie Portman’s acting throughout totally engages the audience to empathize with her fate as she confronts her possessive and manipulative mother, jealous peers and predatory director.  Issues such as body image, sexuality, rivalry, madness, obsessiveness and the quest for perfection are explored as Nina’s psyche  slowly unravels under pressure into  a deceptive hallucinatory world.

Natalie Portman has already won numerous awards for her acting in Black Swan and may yet well win more in the coming Oscar season. Personally I feel she deserves to. She acted a  not dissimilar role of  disintegration of personality in Milos Foreman’s 'Goya’s Ghosts' (2006).

 Black Swan has been compared in its decent into paranoia and madness to Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, Repulsion and The Tenant as a psycho-drama. It's as scary as the aforementioned Polanski films in horror and subtle deception of the viewer.  Film critics  however seem to be sharply divided between hate and admiration of Black Swan, some considering Aronofsky’s offering  to be shallow, pretentious and stereotypical in its portrayal of ambitious women, and those who consider it  redeemed by compelling performances  and direction.

 Black Swan shares some of the thematic concerns of Powell and Pressburger’s 1948 ballet film The Red Shoes in its portrait of artistic destruction in the quest for perfection. In essence however Aronofsky's Black Swan is a  horror psycho-drama which exploits the physical and mental pressures of ballet for its own artistic agenda.

                   Prima ballerina Irena Kolesnikova in the role 
                     of the black Swan in  Swan Lake

The Tenant

Recently I watched Roman Polanski’s  film, ‘The Tenant’  (1976) based upon a novel by Roland Torpor. It’s the last in a trilogy of  Polanski's  so-called ‘Apartment’ films which includes  'Repulsion' (1965) and ‘Rosemary’s  Baby' (1968).

Unusually the central role is acted by Polanski himself who plays the part of  Trelkowski,  a polite and introverted young man  who rents an apartment in Paris with a disturbing history. When first viewing the apartment, the concierge (Shelley Winters) informs him that the apartment is only available because the previous tenant, Simone Chou jumped  from the fourth floor in a suicide attempt and is now critically injured in hospital. When Trelkowski visits Simone he discovers that she is bandaged from head to toe. He also meets Simone's friend Stella (Isabelle Adjani) at the hospital. However, when Simone sees Trelkowski, she emits a loud, blood-curdling scream.

Trelkowski soon comes to believe the various residents in the large apartment block are conspiring against him, subtly attempting to change him into the previous tenant Simone, no less; thus when asking for Gauloise cigarettes at a cafe he is repeatedly handed  a packet of Malboro, the choice of the previous tenant. Trelkowski soon comes to realise that the terms and conditions in renting his new Parisian apartment are near unendurable. Although he lives a quiet life neighbours constantly complain of his making noise, an evening entertaining his friends is curtailed by the Landlord who disapproves of his activities. Trelkowski becomes convinced that strange occurrences are happening in the large block of flats. He discovers a tooth embedded in the wall having recently lost a tooth himself and notices that various tenants stand transfixed and motionless in the bathroom opposite his flat for long periods.

Trelkowski's basic good nature is highlighted when Rufus, a young man who had a romantic attachment to Simone visits him. Rufus breaks down when informed that Simone attempted suicide and  has died as a result of her injuries, however, Trelkowski spends a long evening consoling and drinking with him. The two part company at  dawn at a Metro station  with Rufus pleading eternal gratitude for Trelkowski's kindness.

It's when Trelkowski comes home one day to discover his flat has been burgled and many valuable items gone that he begins to break down. Convinced that the residents are attempting to make him change into Simone and commit the same act of suicide, he buys a wig and dresses in clothes left by her in the wardrobe. He then sits  out the night in his cross-dressing clothes waiting for his would-be assailants.

‘The Tenant’ is a film of pure Kafkaesque nightmare and hallucinatory paranoia as it draws to its inexorable conclusion. The genius of Polanski’s direction ensures that the viewer is never completely sure as to how much the conspiracy  Trelkowski believes is happening  to him is in his imagination and how much is for real.

Some critics have called 'The Tenant' a slow and clumsy film, however Polanski’s  more than competent acting, ably supported by  a very young Isabelle Adjani, who becomes his lover too late to rescue him from his fate, ensures that ‘The Tenant’ is as disturbing to view now as when first screened in 1976.

 

The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes

During the week-end I viewed again, 'The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes' (2005) directed by the brothers Quay.

The Pennsylvanian-born twins, Timothy and Stephen Quay (b. 1947 ) are best known for their short-length, highly original animation films. Since graduating from the Royal College of Art in 1969 they have been based mainly in London.

The sources of the brothers Quay's influences and references are diverse and esoteric, including much from East European culture, in particular originating from the art, film-makers, graphic designers and writers of Prague, such as the film-maker Walerian Borowczyk (1923-2006), the authors Bruno Schulz (1892-1942) Franz Kafka (1883-1924) and animator Jan Svankmajer (b.1934).

In their short animated film 'The Cabinet of Jan Svankmajer' (1984) homage is made to the Czech pioneer of stop-start film animation. It also features a re-construction of a fantasy character by the illusionist painter, Archimboldo (1530-93) entitled 'The Librarian'. Archimboldo was a favoured Court painter of Rudolph II (1552-1612) the Holy Roman Emperor who was fascinated with alchemy and whose Imperial court attracted talents such as the English occultist John Dee.

The curious artifacts in museums such as Rudolph II's 'Wunderkammer', along with medical collections and psychiatric art-work as well as obsolete mechanical contraptions also feature as inspiration at the court of the Quays. Lesser esoteric artistic projects have involved their creativity in the world of television advertising in which their distinctive animation is instantly recognizable.

The brothers Quay second full-length film incorporates all the strangeness of their peculiar and bizarre automaton with a fine supporting cast and a near surreal plot. The film opens with a quote by the Roman historian Sallust: "These things never happen, but are always." Its an enigmatic and multi-layered story which concerns the fate of a famous opera singer Malvina van Stille (Amira Casar). On the evening before her wedding to Adolfo, (Cesar Sarachu) whilst singing an aria from Vivaldi's Nisi Dominus entitled, 'For so he gives his beloved dreams',  she seemingly dies and is abducted by Doctor Droz to his remote Mediterranean villa, cum sanatorium, where she is revivified. Near-mute, veiled and hypnotized, she remains under Dr. Droz's spell. The mysterious character of Dr. Droz has echoes of Prospero, Svengali, Caligari, Mabuse and Frankenstein all rolled into one. Acted by Gottfried John, a German actor who frequently appeared in Rainer Werner Fassbinder's films, the mad genius of Dr. Droz is portrayed with a droll, dry sophistication. Dr Droz is also the sinister master of a small gang of robotic odd-job men at his villa who at turns are gardeners, henchmen and stage-performers. Droz invites a piano tuner named Filberto (Cesar Sarachu in a dual role) to his Villa, to inspect his seven hydraulically operated automata, while also preparing to stage a 'diabolical opera' unlike any other with Malvina performing.

Early in the film there is an allusion to the Lisbon earthquake of 1755, a force of nature which rumbles ominously in the back-ground to the disturbing automata Filberto is challenged to maintain. The piano tuner is distracted from his task by the seductive attentions of the beautiful maid, Assumptia (Assumptia Serna). It is however Filberto's fatal attraction towards Dr. Droz's silent, veiled patient, Malvina which proves to be the nemesis of his eventual, astounding fate.

As ever with the brothers Quays rich pot-pourri of sources and references are involved. The plot of Adolfo Bioy's novella, 'The Invention of Morel' and Jules Verne's story, 'The Carpathian Castle' are both cited as literary influences upon the plot. However, like the Surrealists before them, the brothers Quay exploration of the workings of the unconscious psyche, along with show-casing their highly-original creativity is foremost among their artistic preoccupations. The crowning artistic glory of 'The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes' is that the clockwork, cogs and strings of the Quay's strange automata and puppets feature as an integral part of the film's story.

In a short scene featuring one of the brothers Quay marvellous automata, the grinding teeth and writhing tongue of a grotesque figure occurs in Filberto's dream, a highly suggestive allusion to the distorted and unconscious perspective of the senses whilst asleep. In fact 'The Piano Tuner Of Earthquakes', like several of the Quay's animation shorts, contains a succession of dream-like images which can react upon and disturb the complacency of the viewer's unconscious psyche.

Described as 'a hermetic vision which is as beautifully seductive as it is chillingly inaccessible, with mise-en-scene like a baroque painting by an Old Master', by one film critic, don't expect to see a film with lots of action, dialogue and a simple plot to follow. Do however expect an exquisitely photographed, rich in tonal palate, well-acted film in which fascinating animation is featured, all conjured by the brothers Quay. It's a film which may well leave you wondering about the nature of illusion and dreams and which may engender a fascination, not unlike one of Dr.Droz's automata which compels one to return to view its surrealistic tale again! In brief, as time will surely demonstrate, a 21st century master-piece of cinema!

The City of Lost Children

'The City of Lost Children' (1995) is a highly imaginative blend of fantasy, science-fiction and fairy-story by the French film-makers Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro. Set in a dystopian world of steel-grey docklands and a phosphorescent green sea, the action involves a semi-robotic gang of one-eyed henchmen called Cyclops who kidnap children for the evil Doctor Krank (Daniel Emilfork) to 'feed' upon their dreams. The crazy doctor Krank is the resident of a sea-rig laboratory along with Uncle Irvin, a disembodied brain who floats in an aquarium and six identical cloned brothers, amazingly filmed and acted by Dominique Pinon.

When Krank's hench-men the Cyclops, kidnap the young brother of circus strong-man One (Ron Perlman), he unites with Miette (Judith Vittet), the ring-leader of a gang of children who are the enforced subjects of sadistic and conjoined school-mistresses, to rescue him. The blossoming romance between the adult strong-man One and the nine-year old orphan heroine Miette is particularly touching, challenging and transcending taboo notions of relationships between child and adult.

Together Jeunet and Caro conjure up an imaginative and claustrophobic landscape in which sets, special effects, photography, fast narrative pace and performances equally contribute to a brilliant film. It's a self-contained world in which lugubrious fog-horns, low-tech mechanisms and humorous sequences of cause and effect occur. Among the many inventive special effects throughout the film the sight of a Titanic-sized ocean-liner crashing through dock-lands, is particularly stunning.

Not unlike Terry Gilliam's 'Brazil' (1985) and their earlier collaboration, also set in a dystopia, 'Delicatessen' (1990) Jenet and Caro's artistic agenda is in essence a discourse upon the world of appearances and the loss of soul in the modern world. As the credits roll the sound-track features the distinctive voice of Marianne Faithfull singing, 'Who will take your dreams away?'

The Magic Christian

Last night I watched Joseph MacGrath's adaption of Terry Southern's 1960 novel 'The Magic Christian' (1969). Call me culturally biased but it seems to me that this British production of a Southern novel is a slightly more sympathetic adaption than 'Candy'. Nevertheless like 'Candy' it was creaky and badly-outdated viewing in places, even with the author writing the screen-play. The film has a song written especially for it by Paul MacCartney, with the band Badfinger performing 'Come and get it', as well as a number of cameo appearances, including British comedians, Graham Garden, Spike Milligan and John Cleese.

By far the highlight of the film and the funniest sequences occur aboard S.S. Magic Christian, a luxury cruiser including Yul Brynner in glamorous drag and boa-feathers crooning 'Mad about the Boy' to a shy Roman Polanski, a rampaging escaped King Kong gorilla, Dracula in the form of Christopher Lee frightening passengers, a genial but drunken Captain at the helm of S.S Magic Christian (Wilfred Hyde White) which is motored by galley-mistress Raquel Welch wearing a fur bikini and cracking a whip on topless female rowers; I lost count of how many celebrities make a fleeting cameo appearance in this film.

The message that, 'Everyone has their price' by the multi-millionaire Sir Guy Grand, acted by Peter Sellers, to his adopted son Ringo Starr, is demonstrated throughout the film, sometimes with funny consequences. The film's conclusion which highlights Sir Guy Grand's message, is a scene which shows that people will do anything, no matter how degrading to acquire money, even climbing into a large vat of vile fluids to collect bank-notes scattered in it. In essence, Terry Southern's black satire is an acerbic indictment  which satirizes the effects of amoral consumer capitalism upon ethics and morality.

Oscar and Lucinda

Last night I watched the film 'Oscar and Lucinda' (1997) directed by Gillian Armstrong. Set in the middle of the 19th century, it's the story of Oscar (Ralph Fiennes) the son of strict Plymouth Brethren parents and Lucinda (Cate Blanchett) an independent-minded Australian entrepreneur.

When attending Oxford reading theology, Oscar is introduced to the joys of gambling, specifically horse-racing. Frequently lucky and believing himself to be inspired by divine providence, the bumbling and socially-inept Oscar persists in donating his winnings to the poor. Meanwhile Lucinda discovers a passion for glass and purchases a Glass-works with an inheritance. Oscar and Lucinda first meet aboard a ship bound for Australia. The pretext for their meeting is ostensibly for the purpose for Lucinda's confessional, Oscar having recently been ordained and emigrating. The pair soon become friends with a shared passion for card-playing. Oscar's justification for gambling is that of the famous wager of Pascal which argues that all Christians are gambling their souls in hope of God's existence, love and redemption.

Without wanting to post spoilers, the crux of the romantic drama concerns a wager between Oscar and Lucinda of their respective inheritances, that Oscar can transport a glass Church from Sydney to Bellingen on the North-west coast of New South Wales, a journey which involves the crossing of no less than six rivers and hazardous terrain.

Based upon the Peter Carey novel which won the 1988 Booker prize, 'Oscar and Lucinda' is a film which established Cate Blanchett's acting career. The other notable star of this film is, as with 'Picnic at Hanging Rock' (Dir. Peter Weir 1975), the stunning Australian scenery. 'Oscar and Lucinda' also highlights the basic living conditions of the early Australian colonists.

The residue of Protestant ethics continues to associate gambling as a sin, even among those whose morality is no longer determined by Christian ethics whatsoever. This is primarily due to the fact that during the 18th century a day at the races spent gambling was viewed as a threat to the established social order. A Lord attending Newmarket races could by the day's end be a pauper and a pauper could acquire the wealth equivalent to a Lord. Primarily for this reason alone, the notion of acquiring wealth without industriousness, circumventing the Protestant work-ethic, preachers railed from the pulpit against the 'sin' of gambling. And to be fair, there is a scene in the film which highlights the very worst consequence of ruination from gambling, namely, suicide. However, as Oscar fully realises, many aspects of life and love are in fact far from being certainties, but very uncertain gambles in most lives.

At the present time of writing the author Peter Carey, who has won the Booker prize twice, is priced at 5-1 to win the Booker again, with the Greek-Australian Christos Tsiolkas, author of 'The Slap', priced at a 9-1. Personally, I'm considering having a small bet that Carey wins the Booker Prize for an unprecedented third time. Just don't put your shirt on it !

The Piano

Last night as part of my continuing comparative study between the film of the book , I watched 'The Piano' (1993). Jane Campion, (b.1954), the director of the film, is also author of the novella, 'The Piano'. Her novella, written after the film's making (1994), is in this case more of a development than an adaptation, adding new insights into the character's past history.

'The Piano' is a great triumph for several reasons. Most notably the combination of director Jane Campion's ten years dedication spent writing the story, and the actress Holly Hunter's portrayal of the emotions of the central character, Ada MacGrath, a role which consolidated Holly Hunter's acting career. She plays the part of Scottish pianist and mute, who arrives in New Zealand for an arranged marriage, little more than a mail-order bride. It's no small achievement to act a non-speaking role throughout an entire film and yet still be extremely expressive. The picture of the beautiful and broody Ms. Hunter wearing a Victorian bonnet is one of the film's great images. In addition to the fine acting of Holly Hunter which won her an Academy award, the supporting roles of Ada's frustrated husband and her lover are admirably realized by Sam O'Neill and Harvey Keitel respectively. The role of Ada's nine-year old daughter, Flora, earned Anna Paquin an award for supporting actress, the second youngest ever actress to win win such an award. The film is further enhanced by the lyrical music score of the composer Michael Nyman.

The triangular relationship between Ada, her husband Alisdair Stewart, and George Baines, is set against a backdrop of early colonial New Zealand, one of mud, deforestation and the indigenous Maori population. The film's plot is in essence an evolving love story which is propelled by two short scenes of sex and violence. There's also a good deal of subtle eroticism in the scenes which involve Ada and Baines in their negotiations over ownership of the piano, which itself is no minor 'character' .

Having also recently read the novella, 'The Piano' several interpretative points are worth mentioning. The film, unlike the book, engages in little of the book's internal dialogue other than Ada's short voice-over at its beginning and ending. The entire role of music and the emotion's which it evokes is naturally far less achievable in a novel, while the static nature of internal dialogue is less of a feature in most films. The viewer thus relies upon the acting skills of the central characters to explain why, for example, George Baines is entranced by Ada's piano-playing. But it is the near hypnotic ability of film to involve the viewer in a far greater immediate emotional response than reading can sometimes achieve, through the use of music, but also through graphic imagery, which strongly differentiates film from book.

In the case of 'The Piano' the music is an integral part of the story which further enhances empathy with the characters. The composer Michael Nyman (b. 1944) is quite simply the best of British composers, his previous collaborations with the film-maker Peter Greenaway, introduced him to a wide audience, and in fact the strong rhythmic impetus and gorgeous lyricism of his film-score has ensured that it stands as an enjoyable piano concerto in its own right.

By a curious coincidence like the film 'Respiro', which I reviewed in May 'The Piano' also involves a denouement in which the heroine is rescued and 're-born' in water surrounded by a small crowd of swimmers.

In many ways the success of the film 'The Piano' is the sum total of a harmonious artistic collaboration between director, actors and composer. It's a pity that more films are not so well constructed in direction, acting and sound-track.

Awara

I recently viewed the Hindi film 'Awara' (1951). Directed by Raj Kapoor who also stars as the central character, 'Awara' is the film which announced that Hindi film had arrived on the World-stage. Even today it is consistently listed in the top three of all-time great Hindi films.

The film concerns the consequences of a wealthy judge's decision (acted by Raj Kapoor's real-life father) to abandon his wife after she is kidnapped by a gang of criminals. His wife gives birth to his son; struggling in abject poverty, she brings up the young Raj who leaves school to become a petty thief. The only bright spot in the child Raj's impoverished life is his childhood sweet-heart, Rita. When Raj and Rita (now the Judge's ward) meet again as adults, the plot develops to a highly dramatic conclusion.

Not wanting to post spoilers to the plot's resolution I can tell you that in essence 'Awara' debates upon the inequalities of Indian society and how social status markedly affects the individual's success in Indian society. The sharp contrast between the privileged minority and the great impoverished majority of Indian society is depicted. The film's message in essence is that nuture, not nature shapes individual destiny.

Watching 'Awara' one becomes conscious of the deep imprint of British Rule upon India .Although India achieved independence from Britain in 1948, traffic scenes featuring double-Decker Routemaster buses, speech peppered with colloquial English phrases including the singing of 'For she's a jolly good fellow', to the whole-scale structure of police, the judicial court and legal system, provide evidence of the strong imprint of British Rule in transport, customs, language and Law in Indian culture.

Raj Kapoor quite deliberately models himself as a Chaplinesque tramp in the film. Like Chaplin Kapoor's agenda is one of criticism of society's values and prejudices. His song 'Awara Hoon' (I am a homeless tramp) was, like the film itself, a big hit in both the U.S.S.R. and China.

Among the many remarkable features of 'Awara' is the depiction of the beautiful actress Nargis Dutt in a swim-suit, a first in Hindi film and a lengthy dream sequence. Although Alfred Hitchcock had already attempted a cinematic dream sequence in Spellbound (1945), Kapoor's own attempt to portray the psyche's unconscious in film was made without the assistance of the surrealist painter Salvador Dali.

'Awara' sets the template for much of future Hindi or Bollywood film. Clocking in at twice the length of many Hollywood films (195 minutes) serving up a generous helping of high quality songs and dances, with a tendency towards melodrama and romantic fantasy, adhering to State censorship, yet able to debate social issues, 'Awara' is a film equal to, if not superior to ,anything produced in the same era by Hollywood.

Book consulted
100 Bollywood films by Rachel Dwyer pub. B.F.I. 2005