Wittgenstein (1993)

Director: Derek Jarman

Screenplay: Derek Jarman, Terry Eagleton and Ken Butler

Cast: Clancy Chassay as young Wittgenstein, Karl Johnson as adult Wittgenstein, Nabil Shaban as Martian, Michael Gough as Bertrand Russell, Tilda Swinton as Lady Ottoline Morrell, John Quentin as Maynard Keynes, Kevin Collins as Johnny, Lynn Seymour as Lydia Lopokova

An Abstract Candidate

 

How many toes do philosophers have?

Ludwig Wittgenstein fascinates me as a philosopher, which is as apt as an amateur writer on abstract films who will openly state his lack of philosophical prowess but is aware of how his work, in attempting to deal with what he felt were huge issues about philosophy even in terms of language betraying it, is inherently dealing with the abstract in itself. His premise is simple even - that our misuse of language needed to be dealt with and cleared away to be able to attempt philosophical ideas - but it is with truth that, going out of my way to try to read Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1922), it is an abstract and difficult little novella of philosophy. Claimed to be the ladder to climb up to a newer enlightenment through, and to be then discarded afterwards, it was, however, a difficult text for me to even begin with let alone for me to understand. Wittgenstein the film, a biography by Derek Jarman, is very simple in contrast as a telling of the Austrian philosopher's life to his death, in telling a cohesive glance of his views and personality, but tells it in an unconventional way. Particularly as we are still dealing with the author of the likes of the Philosophical Investigations (1952), Wittegenstein trying to show the limitations of language, and that to resolve this issue involved dealing with the resulting "language games", it is not something visually dynamic as a biopic subject immediately, but just as fascinating in the right hands here especially as the production itself plays with presentation.

Even as a pure non- sequitur, when actor Michael Gough, making his first appearance as philosopher Bernard Russell, a champion of Wittegenstein, is shouting about there being no rhinoceros under a table, is showing us this will be an unconventional "biopic" but playing with this issue important to its subject work. In this film which is artificial in its black stages, the subject nature of words and their symbolism that became the concern of its subject is naturally within a film playing with the contract of cinema itself. The life of Wittgenstein, with a young child version, future war reporter and journalist Clancy Chassay, and Karl Johnson as the adult Wittgenstein sharing roles as their own narrator, is told as straightforward as an autobiography can. But we are dealing with a philosopher, which inherently provides an issue for a mainstream adaptation that their achievements, unless they had very dramatic lives, were dealing with very cerebral and internal issues of human existence, which sadly many mainstream biopics do not think are "cinematic" enough. Jarman proves this wrong, even if this is a work where the drama is dealing with this existential concern of the subject, from Wittgenstein's concerns from the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus to the post-humorously published Philosophical Investigations, including the fact he felt later (in the film depiction) his first work was deeply flawed and led to him drastically changing his ideas to perfect them. Refocusing philosophical theories in mind to this and avoiding starting as a lonely philosopher based on their own internal thoughts, he wished for them to be pushed into a sociological version through humanity as a whole interlocking together, legendary filmmaker Jarman making this his central conflict whilst both dealing with the man himself, from his personality to being a gay man in a different time period, and also having a gleefully quirky tone on purpose.

This is a very playful film, one of Jarman's last before his tragic passing due to illness connected to HIV, Blue (1993) the film after a sobering work dealing with this, and his emotions, entirely by a blue image and just narration, one of the most powerful works from the nineties and British cinema in general. Wittgenstein still is serious, but it is for a film about a philosopher where such deep concerns are contrasted by being deliberately a comedy, fully embracing its artificiality too as it has a vivid aesthetic of elaborate costumes, including on Jarman collaborate Tilda Swinton here, and in precise set design. The green Martian alone, played by Nabil Shaban, who I first encountered in the fascinating horror film Born of Fire (1986), is one of the more overt undercuttings of pretence, an abrupt inclusion even for a Jarman film in itself in how we have this figure, with an xylophone, yet again apt for this particular subject as the figure is just as philosophical in dealing with perception of reality with the younger Wittgenstein. As much as this factors into Ludwig Wittgenstein the man himself, a figure who struggles even to grasp a derisive V sign gesture at his direction, a figure who in another film would be an exaggerated curiosity in his thought patterns. It brings into this, through these sides, a deliberate sense of camp. Jarman as an LGBTQ filmmaker, both for serious political art an campaigning throughout his life, and also in its joyous and transgressive depictions, shows both Wittgenstein's romantic life with a male student he has a relationship with through for his whole life, and for upturning conventions of this genre with the tone. It is seen as simple in how, with one of Ludwig's sisters being a painter, historical accuracy is thrown out the window with a female figure as the nude model with very short hair, tattoos and piercings, deliberately stamping the film with choices like this. Whilst with a film like Sebastiane (1976), the challenge came from proudly depicting the nude male body in a constant rush of its entirely film length, Wittgenstein even when it skips to something serious and meaningful in its subject, empathy for him and trying to grasp his ideas, has its tongue in its cheek and a twisted sense of humour most of its length.

Abstract Spectrum: Whimsical

Abstract Rating (High/Medium/Low/None): None

The Creep Behind the Camera (2014)

 

Director: Pete Schuermann

Screenplay: Pete Schuermann

Cast: Josh Phillips as Art Nelson; Jodi Lynn Thomas as Lois Wiseman; Bill LeVasseur as William Thourlby; Laurel Harris as Helen Whittlesey; Mark Lee as Jon Lackey; Chris Winters as Norman Boone / Barney; Jason Coviello as Scott; Katie Bevard as Shannon O'Neil / Brett; Glenn Thayer as Larry Burell / Narrator

Obscurities, Oddities and One-Offs

 

 I know this is low budget, but you couldn't afford a door?

With documentaries on cult directors and cinema popular, this document on the life of A.J. Nelson, a.k.a. Vic Savage, is probably one fo the most idiosyncratic in terms of trying to document his life. With talking head interviews dispensed throughout in tiny chunks, the production took a different direction for the director notorious for one film, The Creeping Terror (1964), by recreating his life as a biopic at the same time. Thus, The Creeping Terror is repurposed as the ultimate burial of Nelson as much as a document over how this film got made. 

What is a Creeping Terror? The notorious monster film where, when you lose the costume, you acquire what is a carpet from outer space, and is permanently in public domain and on Mystery Science Theatre 3000. The problem, which director/writer Pete Schuermann's film has to wrangle around, is that Nelson's life is split between this farce of a film and a deeply abhorrent man who, depicted here, did horrible things away from the film, and both sides clash. This review, despite this initial tone, requires a trigger warning as a result. The problem immediately rears its head, in the director's cut, in how we have the talking heads (members of the production, and figures like Harry Knowles) lambast the film in a light humoured tone, contrasted by the depiction of Nelson (Josh Phillips), burning his first wife Lois' hand on a gas stove.

If we stay with the light hearted side, we get a fascinating attempt at fleshing out this production. Some figures like Knowles or the Medved brothers, creators of the Golden Turkey Awards, are included but the participants of the real production are more rewarding even if they are slim in their time onscreen. Allan Silliphant, the screenwriter who (in an animated sequence in 3D cel shade) envisioned his sci-fi space monster chewing Las Vegas showgirls in a line on-stage, is fixated on Nelson not setting the crash landing site at Lake Tahoe but a ditch of a river, a fixation which is funny for him returning to it over and over again. William Thourlby, one of the actors and the main investor, laments getting involved, the main figure for money that eventually salvaged what footage Nelson made (acquired from his garage in the recreation), and even had to hire an actor to add voice narration over to make sense of. A high school orchestra teacher got his shot at being a composer in this recreation, which would be awesome but with "Monster Gets Blown Up By A Grenade" as one composition with his student musicians itself a bizarre tangent to the film. The content in the recreation, if all true, is ridiculous.

An entire paragraph does deserve to be had for the titular terror and its creator Jon Lackey, whose creature is lovingly recreated here even if only a female associate and friend, sadly only talked to briefly, is our only real figure to discuss the late man. The original creature, as recreated here, is still a rubbery monster costume, requiring multiple students in the hot weather too boil inside it to move, but it is an imaginary figure, especially when you realise this version is creepily gynaecological in look, including the mouth entrance to gobble up victims and its tall, long "head". When Lackey informed Nelson the monster is absent until it was paid, is when the rug appeared....a bastardisation made on the sly. This film's entire structure is entirely because of a perceived lack of on-set and production archive materials, so there is logic to this absurdity being acted out. Whether with creative recounting or entirely accurate, such as Nelson trying to film a car moving when still clearly no with himself onscreen, it nonetheless works.

In terms of the accuracy, director Pete Schuermann deserves credit for trying. Originally behind projects like Hick Trek: The Moovie (1999), a Star Trek parody, the narrative's setting is pulled off with success. Trying to recreate the sixties on a low budget is insanely difficult and I have to admire Schuermann and those involved here, getting the costumes and vehicles as accurate as possible, helped especially as this is not sixties chic either, but lived-in post fifties as a setting. Being shot on digital does catch a viewer off-guard, but the illusion of the past shown through celluloid does muddy our view of the past and what history is. Besides, even Michael Mann showed this discrepancy with Public Enemy (2009), set in thirties but shot on digital too, and that was high budget. The Creep... to its credit can also be credited with having good performances too, helping considerably, Josh Phillips as Art Nelson compellingly evil as a figure whilst Jodi Lynn Thomas as Lois Wiseman does play the most sympathetic figure with a level of discomfort for her plight to feel for the figure.

The only issue with the farce of The Creeping Terror is both the lack of emphasis on talking heads, and that there are some fragments disconnected to everything which do stand out as bizarre but not stitched in enough. Nelson stalking Mamie Van Doren; that he apparently shot a hole in the hand of - Carl Switzer, who played Alfalfa in the Little Rascals, or that they shot on Spahn Ranch, meaning Charles Manson gets a cameo in the film with the hint his stolen vehicles were used.

The problems with the film though, the really difficult ones, are entirely its violently contrasting sides, entirely to do with trying to create a humorous biography about a man who was also horrifying, and finding the right balance. Both sides separately work, exceptionally well, but the problems are there in putting them together. There is a huge tonal problem between an Ed Wood farce and the domestic abuse content with Lois, which is intense. It is made more uncomfortable, though with care, as the real Lois Wiseman is also interviewed, an elderly woman who is explicit about the hell she went through with Nelson. It is uncomfortably a film stuck with two diametrically opposed side - that Nelson was making a car crash, but he also abused his first wife, who suffered in from a tyrannical religious mother beforehand already, a problem to have to tell the narrative of in its entirely, from a makeshift monster to Lois trying to slice her wrists on a fence, intercutting with the real Lois having to talk of this on camera, with both sides very emotionally different in content.

Confounded by the film skipping back and forth in time, the film even without this major subplot does (for the director's cut) toppled under a challenging tonal shift it cannot meld. In the same film, not long between each other, you have Nelson have a Creeping Terror religious freak-out, in a church with the Terror leering superimposed over a giant church organ and humour of him stealing the collection plate money...contrasted by the scene, whilst carefully done, that Nelson is explicitly making child pornography on the side for money, ultimately why he has to disappear and leaving Thourlby to collect back the film for release¹. When this production works, The Creep Behind the Camera succeeds, but never was there also a violently haphazard production which ultimately scuppers itself.

 

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1) Also a CGI locust storm taking place at this period in the film, which never made sense.