Friday, December 28, 2007

History and Bigotry in Cult Classics

The sixties and seventies begat a dramatic increase in the lurid boundaries that films were willing to push, with onscreen depictions of gore, sex, and drugs becoming more frequent and more graphic. Nowhere is this exploration of social taboos more evident than in the films of the era that are now circulated as cult classics.

Of course the dramatic change in subject matter is due primarily to the abandonment of film censorship by the Hollywood Production Code in the late sixties, as well as to the major cultural shifts that occurred throughout the sixties and into the early seventies; indeed, it can be instructive to track how closely entertainment—even strange and marginalized entertainment, such as cult films—corresponds to and reflects major historical events and changing attitudes in popular culture. For instance, it is interesting for modern-day viewers to note that, despite the obvious influence of the Summer of Love in 1969 and the widespread sexual revolution and despite the “free love” theme of Harold and Maude and the copious onscreen sex in Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, both films put homophobic attitudes on display in two radically different ways: Harold and Maude does so via conspicuous omission, while Beyond the Valley of the Dolls does so via blatant stereotypes, transsexual panic, and a final orgiastic killing spree that neatly disposes of every major character that has been confirmed as queer.

The homophobia of Harold and Maude is obviously much more gentle and subtle than that of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls; it doesn’t come off to viewers as hatred or fear or mockery, but instead more of an absent-minded forgetfulness. Arguably, there is no place in the film where the topic of homosexuality might even be addressed. Yet there is a subtle gap in the progression of Harold’s sexual and romantic awakening, as none of the other characters remark upon Harold’s active efforts to alienate girls his own age, even for the sake of an easy joke. Harold, who is bright, theatrical, quiet, morbid, and content to avoid romantic situations or physical intimacy with the women his mother invites home, is nevertheless saved from any question of his masculinity, even by his Freudian therapist. And though the object of his love may turn out to be “queer,” in the sense that it defies mainstream social boundaries for the romantic and sexual, there is still no question that he is anything but heterosexual. More troubling than this apparent oversight, however, is one of the theatrical trailers for the film, which includes the statement: “Harold and Maude say: get together, regardless of your age, race, creed, color, or national origin….” There is something quite obvious missing from this free-spirited urge to love, or at least be physically intimate.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls is a more aggressively homophobic movie, displaying not only crude background caricatures—the gay male couple at Z-man's first party in the film are depicted as prudish compared to their straight counterparts; shown fully clothed, they become indignant at being interrupted by Z-man and Kelly and exit with a lisping wisecrack—but also main characters who explore their sexualities and are ultimately punished for it.

Z-Man's character suffers most, turning from a charmingly manic and eccentric Hollywood-type who may have eyes for Kelly to an aggressive homosexual who is interested in the men Kelly has slept with to finally being driven insane by a combination of drugs, materialism, and artifice, resulting in a peyote-fueled murdering spree in which five people, including himself, are killed. It is worth paying attention to the more and more extravagant clothing and costumes that Z-Man is shown wearing; like the gay couple from early on, Z-Man is characterized in such a way as to remove him from the heterosexual. Jeffrey Dennis writes that, "nude backsides and even frontal shots” (138) began to strongly signify heterosexuality, conflating the natural state with being straight and further separating straightness from “the blow-dried hair, stylish costumes, or feminine affectations of the 'homosexual’ …. By the end of [the 1970s], even shirtless shots came to signify straightness” (138). Compare the numerous shirtless bedroom scenes of womanizing character Lance Rocke, who aggressively spurns Z-Man’s advances, to Z-Man’s consistently modest costuming and it’s clear that this formula also holds true for Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.

As if this were not bad enough, Z-Man spends his final scenes insisting that he is Superwoman and in one dramatic moment opens his shirt to reveal a small pair of breasts. It is this revelation, of which there is virtually no hint in any earlier scenes, that is meant to provoke the greatest feelings of shock and repulsion in a film that is filled with shocking and repulsive characters and situations.

This scene is an intense example of hostility and ignorance directed not only toward women and gays, but toward transsexuals as well. Moya Luckett notes that:

Female power is generally linked to breast size… where small breasts highlight marginalization, failure, even utter villainy…. the breast is the sole certain marker of sexual difference. The sudden revelation of Z-Man's identity (from gay man to a masculine heterosexual woman) comes in tandem with his equally sudden acquisition (s)he flaunts during her murder rampage. (151)


Being a woman is then linked to the possession of breasts, apparently regardless of the genitalia possessed by the individual or their secondary sex characteristics. Despite Z-Man's general presentation as male, with sideburns, a deep voice, male clothes, and a male name, the presence of small breasts are meant to negate all other signifiers and thus shock the characters and audience with Z-Man's "secret" womanhood. But it is apparent that Z-Man is not actually a heterosexual woman pretending to be a man (presumably because he lacks the proper endowments to be a "real" woman); he could be either a gay female-to-male transsexual or a heterosexual male-to-female transsexual, but his behavior is not particularly consistent with either gender variation. A female-to-male transsexual would be unlikely to insist on being called Superwoman or to reveal his breasts, or even to create a situation that might result in such a loss of control (as Z-Man does with his intimate party and peyote-cocktail). A male-to-female transsexual would, on the other hand, be unlikely to tolerate a nickname that labeled her as a man ( e.g. "Z-Man") and if she had begun hormone treatments she would be experiencing other changes in her body besides the growth of breasts (such as additional fat deposits at the hips) and would also likely be making other changes in her life that would allow her to present as female. Plus, the situation is not helped by the confusion of those who created the character: Roger Ebert refers to Z-Man as “a woman in drag” and “a transvestite,” while actor John LaZar uses the epithet “a hormonal freak” to describe the character in an interview with retroCRUSH. Of course the movie is a satire, but this does not excuse its treatment of homosexuals or transgendered people; the “jokes” are consistently played on those who are different in gender and sexuality, and the audience is meant to laugh at them rather than with.

However, when looking at the homophobia by omission in Harold and Maude and the blatant homophobia and transphobia of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, it is far more understandable within the context of the time period, particularly in relation to the timing of the Stonewall riots. The Stonewall riots, the major turning point in the fight for gay civil rights, occurred in June of 1969. Beyond the Valley of the Dolls began filming late in 1969 and was released in June of 1970. Harold and Maude was released in December of 1971. Simply not enough time had passed and not enough ground had been broken since Stonewall to make homosexuals or their feelings a concern for movie-makers or audiences. (Though Stonewall, along with the Tate-LaBianca murders, may have influenced Beyond the Valley of the Dolls—many of the rioters at Stonewall were drag queens.)

Similarly, the goriness of the 1963 release Blood Feast and the rising use and popularity of gore in movies can be linked to any number of violent deaths and occurrences in the 1960s, from the assassination of President Kennedy to the increased press about and dissatisfaction for the war in Vietnam and, of course, to the Manson Family’s Tate-LaBianca murders, which were clearly echoed in the ending to Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Even Harold and Maude is a bloody film, despite all of Harold’s suicides being theatric fakes; his obsession with death in the midst of the Vietnam War and the various ways in which the film shows the toll war can take are an integral part of the story.

It is important to remember that films and the movie industry do not exist in a vacuum. The onscreen increase in depicted violence and the portrayed attitudes toward sex and gender correspond not only to censorship (or a lack thereof) but to social attitudes and historical events, and it is important to take all of these into account when evaluating films.

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Works Cited

--. Harold and Maude theatrical trailer.

Dennis, Jeffrey P. Queering Teen Culture: All-American Boys and Same-sex Desire in Film and Television. New York: Hinworth Press, Inc, 2006.

Ebert, Roger. “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.” rogerebert.com. 1980/2005. 8 November 2007.

Luckett, Moya. “Sexploitation as feminine territory: the films of Doris Wishman.” Defining Cult Movies: The Cultural Politics of Oppositional Taste. Ed. Marc Jancovich, Antonio Lazaro Reboll, Julian Stringer, Andy Willis. Manchester, Manchester University Press, 2003. 142-156.

Waage, Randy. “I Am Superwoman!: An Interview with John LaZar, Z-Man from the Cult Classic Beyond the Valley of the Dolls!” retroCRUSH: The World’s Greatest Pop Culture Site. 2006. 8 November 2007.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

1950s Monsters and Cold War Anxieties

The running theme of 1950s B movies is an often clearer and more evocative reflection of the anxieties of the era than what one might glean from a study of the mainstream media produced at the same time. Fifty years after the fact, it is easy for a modern audience with even the vaguest of ideas about the zeitgeist of the Western world’s experiences in the 1950s to identify concerns about infiltration and the side effects of scientific progress—particularly in relation to the use of nuclear energy—in these otherwise simplistic films about monsters and aliens from other planets. It must be emphasized, too, that it is not only American films of the period that can be analyzed along this vein, though the US was surely the most prolific when it came to churning out B-grade movies: British television and cinema produced works of science-fiction and horror comparable to American efforts, The Cosmic Monsters / The Strange World of Planet X (1958) being one example.

Indeed, Britain went on to introduce the cult television program “Doctor Who,” about the adventures of a time-traveling alien and his human companions, in 1963; the benevolent alien character of Mr. Smith in The Strange World of Planet X almost seems like a prototype for the character of the Doctor, who would appear on British television just five years after The Strange World of Planet X was made (and whose popularity has been more or less continuous since his introduction; the original series was canceled in 1989, however a made-for-tv movie was made in 1996 and the program was revived in 2005, with a fourth season currently in production). What The Strange World of Planet X and “Doctor Who” have in common is that the threat of invasion by the main alien character is minimal; the alien is instead benevolent, possessing greater knowledge of the universe than the humans he comes into contact with and coming from a world far different from, and even superior to, the Earth. Still, though Mr. Smith and the Doctor may both be more powerful or intelligent than humans, they themselves are not representative of any particular cultural anxieties over the invasion of British land or culture by Cold War era spies and communists or Nazi holdovers. On the contrary, Mr. Smith aids in combating the havoc that has been wreaked by scientific experimentation on Earth, while the Doctor is constantly doing battle with the true alien invaders, the most iconic example being that of the mechanized, homogeneous Daleks.

The Strange World of Planet X exemplifies a kind of shift in the monster movie, where “creatures now [appear] as a consequence not of individual madness or wickedness [as in Frankenstein], but as a result of tampering with the laws of nature by ‘the system’ …. the powers held by these new creatures threatened the whole of mankind. The ‘machine’ had taken over from human agency, hence the need for assistance from superior beings from beyond our world” (Shaw 127-28). Both Mr. Smith and the Doctor are characters that fill the role of the “superior being” who arrives to save Earth from its own missteps. The Strange World of Planet X, along with Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959), explores the dangers and consequences of irresponsible and unchecked scientific experimentation. (It is interesting to note that the hero of Attack of the Giant Leeches, though not an alien, is nevertheless an outsider to the insular Florida town that is under attack.) Both films feature creatures that have become overgrown due to human interference in their habitats. The growth of normally small leeches and insects can be read as a manifestation of cultural fears concerning nature gone out of control due to human error or an excess of scientific curiosity, particularly as it related to new and potentially devastating technologies like atomic energy.

The fear of scientists run amok and/or losing control was a pervasive one, as evidenced by these two films as well as the countless others made in the 1950s and beyond that feature overgrown animals as a plot point. Yet when discussing the B movies of this era, it is the theme of infiltration that is seen as the more reflective of Cold War era anxieties over the spread of communism and fears about the takeover of Western capitalist society. However films such as The Strange World of Planet X and Attack of the Giant Leeches, which center on the destructive power of science and nuclear energy, are also closely connected to fears of infiltration; in these films the fear is focused upon the scientists working with the development of atomic power who had, by the 1950s, “shifted from being the revered masters of ineffable knowledge… to the individuals who would be most likely to endanger the nation (and world generally) …. [as] the result either of academic naivety or, as the [real world] sequence of espionage scandals seemed to suggest, more likely by treachery” (Shaw 119). The concerns over the effects of science on culture, therefore, are not restricted to a fear of the destructive power of nuclear energy. Anxiety over the role of the scientist is also manifested in these films, particularly concern over scientists being incompetent or even deceitful, perhaps acting as an agent of communism.

Thus films that focus on scientists out of control or creatures created through scientific irresponsibility possess a direct link to films that can be analyzed as representative of the conventional Cold War invasion paranoia, such as Man Beast (1956) and Phantom From Space (1953). Darryl Jones writes of these movies: “Here, America and its values are constantly presented as under threat of invasion from enemies Without, or infiltration from Within” (154). In Man Beast we see that this threat is not one that is limited to Americans in America, as it also applies to English speakers in remote locations (or, as in The Strange World of Planet X, to English speakers who are not Americans). In this film, the threat comes from within when a member of the party that is traversing the Himalayas reveals himself to be not a human being at all, but actually part Yeti. His goal is to take the woman as a hostage in order to continue cross-breeding efforts which will produce more Yeti-human hybrids that can walk among humans virtually unnoticed parallels; this is a clear manifestation of fears of brainwashing and of duplication, the process of taking over by creating enough invaders to overpower those that are being invaded—similar to views of communism, the theory of which had to be vilified and silenced in order to stop its insidious spread.

Phantom From Space, on the other hand, demonstrates the fear of possible invasion from without when an alien crash lands on Earth, inadvertently terrorizing those he meets while also confounding the scientists who are trying to make sense of his progress. Phantom From Space is unusual, however, as the alien goes from being a threat from without to one from within, since when he removes his space suit and helmet he is invisible to the people of Earth and therefore able to move through them undetected. And yet, although this alien causes several deaths and the destruction of some property, he doesn’t do so maliciously; he is not an evil invader, but simply one who is confused by a world that is not his own. Similarly, the scientists, military officials, and policemen are not particularly destructive or even terribly incompetent, but rather have some unusually bad luck at trying to deal with a specter whom they can only see under ultraviolet light. So, while Phantom From Space contains an element that would seem to be indicative of the general Cold War invasion theme—the invisible man from another planet—it winds up moving in an atypical direction, suggesting that the “invasion” may actually be a misunderstanding compounded by a series of accidents, and that no one is truly at fault in the end, whether scientist or alien.

Today we view these films as cult for their cheap special effects, occasionally ludicrous plots, and mediocre acting. But they are also cult because they illuminate the values and anxieties of another time period, one that had problems and concerns not unlike those faced in the beginning of the 21st century. After all, is it really such a coincidence that “Doctor Who” has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity within the past few years in Britain and overseas while dissatisfaction and fear over war in the Middle East has also grown steadily during the same time period? Our own film, television and other pop culture media is as influenced by current events as the B movies of the 1950s were. Perhaps this, too, is why these films have gained a cult audience half a century later: they retain some small measure of resonance and even relevance for perceptive modern day viewers.

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Works Cited

Jones, Darryl. Horror: A Thematic History in Fiction and Film. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Shaw, Tony. British Cinema and the Cold War: The State, Propaganda and Consensus. New York: I. B. Tauris, 2001.