One day, immediately following a lively in-class re-enactment of Lady Macduff’s murder, Mrs. McGann announced that we would be reciting a soliloquy. Not just any soliloquy, though; Macbeth’s melodramatic “tomorrow and tomorrow” speech. And we had one week to memorize the passage before performing it for the whole class. We all spent the first half of the week grumbling and groaning about how archaic the assignment was. Who memorized poetry anymore? But in the end, we all learned it. And you know what? We all still know it. Years later, when I see my friends from that class, all one of us has to do is mention McGann or Macbeth, and–in perfect unison–we all launch into the soliloquy.

As a result, it’s perhaps a bit less surprising that, when pondering my recent “picturing Prufrock” assignment for #ds106, this Shakespearean soliloquy popped into my head. So here it is, something that probably never has (and never should) be done, a Macbeth/Prufrock mashup.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Like a patient etherized upon a table,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day.
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned
To the last syllable of recorded time;
In a minute there is time.

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
For I have known them all already, known them all:

I have gone at dusk through narrow streets,
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker.

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
Almost, at times, the Fool
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
To lead you to an overwhelming question

And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous,
Signifying nothing.

I grow old … I grow old …
There would have been a time for such a word.

Special bonus: I’ve mashed up audio from Ian McKellen and T.S. Eliot so you can hear them read this poetry mashup themselves:

1. She then, of course, loosened up by the second or third week, demanding less work but more thinking.

Choose an image from T.S. Eliot’s poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and illustrate it through art, audio, video, or any other creative medium.

Paint a picture, put the words to music, make a mashup, photograph a scene, write a short story, bake a Prufrock cake… anything!

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

Here’s a collage example:

(Also submitted as a #ds106 assignment.)

And oh boy, was I wrong! I spent that hour in the National Gallery watching one of the most artistic, imaginative films I’d ever seen. The integration of two-dimensional art with live actors was seamless, and the movie somehow bridged that gap between the limitless world of storybook illustration and the realism of live-action cinema. As the actors wandered through the extraordinary, ornate sets, I had to remind myself that it was all just made of magazines, cut out and glued in place. I had the surreal feeling of experiencing the story both on paper and on the screen.

Take a look at two of the sets:

Unfortunately, the DVD isn’t available in the US, so the only way you can see what I’m raving about is by watching the (very beautiful) trailer:

And in case you’re not already thinking of running away to Denmark to catch a screening of this film, here are even more gorgeous images:

1. I wish the National Gallery were actually on my doorstep. That would be fantastic.
2. Read it here!
3. The crown prince and princess, who happened to be in town, were there to introduce the film. Only in DC, right?

And just because I love you all so much, the person to guess the highest percentage of these correctly will receive a special prize! So go on, I dare you.²

1. Including not getting home till after 11pm every night last week.
2. Isn’t this so much better than some dumb post about toys?

1. The songs used are, in order: “7 pm” and “La Vie Quotidienne” by Yann Tiersen

Blue Beard’s Last Wife:

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A Very Blue Beard:

1. It is also unmistakably French. You know what I mean.

Not only that, but Lubitsch and Chaplin had their way with the story too. And then there’s Béla Bartók‘s opera “Duke Bluebeard’s Castle” (“A kékszakállú herceg vára”), Atwood‘s “Bluebeard’s Egg”, and even a couple of foreign animated features. Is our obsession with the horrific image of slaughtered women in pieces behind the forbidden door, the confusing morality of the story (is it telling women to be analytical or obedient?), or even with the satisfaction of Bluebeard’s well-deserved end? Well, yes. But enough about society. As Jim Groom would say, let’s talk about me!

My last post was all about Hilaire Belloc‘s Cautionary Tales for Children. One commenter was curious about the long-term effect these poems may have had on me, considering the early age at which I was exposed to them. While I don’t have an answer (yet), I do have one significant observation. Belloc’s poems, though certainly vindictive (“Matilda, Who told Lies and was Burned to Death”), aren’t especially shocking, given historical storytelling traditions. The idea that children must be protected from anything unsavory or violent, even in stories, seems to be a fairly recent development. Kids are being taught through stories like “Curious George” rather than “Bluebeard”.  (Even Beatrix Potter‘s Peter Rabbit stories are less watered down than most modern children’s literature. It’s pretty clearly stated that Farmer McGregor is going to bake the protagonist into a pie and eat him. In another story, a ‘bad rabbit’ steals and, as a consequence, has his tail and whiskers shot off by a hunter. And let’s not forget Owl trying to skin annoying Squirrel Nutkin alive.)³ So if you think Matilda’s punishment for lying is a bit harsh, let’s take a look at some popular fairy tales…

Snow White (Grimm Brothers):

“Snow White’s wicked step-mother was also bidden to the feast…At first she would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and had to go to see the young queen. And when she went in she recognized Snow White, and she stood still with rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance until she dropped down dead.”

Bluebeard (Perrault):

“The gate was opened, and two horsemen entered. Drawing their swords, they ran directly to Bluebeard. He knew them to be his wife’s brothers, one a dragoon, the other a musketeer; so that he ran away immediately to save himself; but the two brothers pursued and overtook him before he could get to the steps of the porch. Then they ran their swords through his body and left him dead.” (Bluebeard, Perrault)

The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood (Perrault):

“The ogress presently knew the voice of the queen and her children, and being quite mad that she had been thus deceived, she commanded next morning, by break of day (with a most horrible voice, which made everybody tremble), that they should bring into the middle of the great court a large tub, which she caused to be filled with toads, vipers, snakes, and all sorts of serpents, in order to have thrown into it the queen and her children, the clerk of the kitchen, his wife and maid…They were brought out accordingly, and the executioners were just going to throw them into the tub, when the king entered the court on horseback and asked, with the utmost astonishment, what was the meaning of that horrible spectacle. No one dared to tell him, when the ogress, all enraged to see what had happened, threw herself head foremost into the tub, and was instantly devoured by the ugly creatures she had ordered to be thrown into it for others.”

Little Red Cap (Grimm Brothers):

“And then the grandmother came out alive as well. Then Little Red Cap fetched some large heavy stones. They filled the wolf’s body with them, and when he woke up and tried to run away, the stones were so heavy that he fell down dead.”

Cinderella (Grimm Brothers):

“When the wedding with the prince was to be held, the two false sisters came, wanting to gain favor with Cinderella and to share her good fortune. When the bridal couple walked into the church, the older sister walked on their right side and the younger on their left side, and the pigeons pecked out one eye from each of them. Afterwards, as they came out of the church, the older one was on the left side, and the younger one on the right side, and then the pigeons pecked out the other eye from each of them. And thus, for their wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness as long as they lived.”

When I was a kid, these were the stories that I loved. I’m sure my parents also read me the usual politically correct, award-winning children’s books, but violent fairy tales, Beatrix Potter, and Hilaire Belloc are what I remember and what I learned from the most. It hasn’t turned me into a constantly fearful adult, a serial killer, or a raving lunatic.⁴ Nothing can fully prepare children for the chaos and brutality of adult life, but stories like “Bluebeard” are a valuable teaching aid that is too often dismissed. So if you have kids, do them a favor. Read something grotesque and vindictive.⁵

1. Did you know that Wikipedia has a “List of murderers by number of victims“?
2. Millennia?
3. You can read and listen to these wonderful stories here, in English or Japanese!
4. Well, I’m not sure about that last one.
5. Extra credit: Poe’s “Hop-Frog“

(You might want to pause and wait for it to load. HD is cranky like that.)

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EXT. ALLEY

Alley in town, angled light. GIRL enters, looking around sadly at the ground, searching.

Passes a HOMELESS GUY,

who is tracing/drawing the outline of a shoe on the ground with a piece of chalk over and over, around and around, while staring at nothing.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE

GIRL enters a square, crosses it, sits down.

SHE peels a clementine, the peel spiraling in one piece.

SHE looks at a closed door nearby.

Looks down.

Stands and slowly makes her way over to the door. Knocks.

The most striking thing–for me, at least–about the Coen Brothers is their unwavering attention to shot composition. They do everything well, obviously, but I think their very strongest point is the way they excel at creating form, rhythm, style, and meaning through something as small as a single shot. They’re so successful because they put an immense amount of effort and thought into every single shot in each of their films. I tend to believe that each shot in a film should be treated as an artistic composition. Just because you’re not painting or photographing doesn’t mean that those elements of art go out the window. It’s even more important, in fact. So naturally, I’m most impressed by directors who believe the same thing.

Take, for example, this shot from the first few minutes of the film:

They could have shown the whole body. They could have shown the dead man’s face. But instead, they sum up the whole story about the violence that’s just occurred in this one shot. Legs surrounded by scuff marks. And that’s it. That’s enough. And, after watching this scene, which leaves the greater impression– the actual struggle between the police officer and his killer, or this shot alone?

Later, when the main character is investigating out in the desert, we get this brilliant sequence of shots:

This produces a unique effect. The scene itself is slow, languid, gradual. Shots are long, subjects within the shots are few. They really take their time with this one. But it’s also charged with suspense, as you don’t know who’s hiding behind those trees, or if they’re going to start shooting at our hero suddenly. The Coen Brothers alternate back and forth between these shots of the two trees in an empty landscape and the protagonist, watching and waiting. By structuring their shots this way and continually returning to the trees at different distances, they build up suspense while maintaining the excruciatingly slow feel of a stakeout. Other filmmakers might handle this by including ominous shots from between the trees, or behind a stranger’s head, creating an ominous feel, but they know better. This isn’t horror; it’s suspense. And suspense captured in a way that exaggerates and stylizes reality, rather than departing from it to adhere to cinematic conventions.

How about this shot of a warmly lit motel beneath a beautiful sunset:

It’s peaceful, and even beautiful (for a motel). But as soon as the killer’s car drives in, it changes the whole feel of this shot.

The motel isn’t warm and friendly anymore– it’s dangerous! The directors didn’t have to have that sunset in there. It could easily have been late at night, or with a blue sky, or maybe just a normal cloudy sky. But the sunset lulls the audience into a false sense of security. We know he’s coming, but this beautiful sunset makes us forget, just for a moment.

They also use shot composition to frame their subjects throughout the film:

And occasionally, the subject in the shot is even used as part of the frame:

This concept of incorporating a character into the physical structure of the scene is one that I’d never really thought about before, but it works perfectly. Are we supposed to notice him? Is he an important character? Why is he there? What will he do next? All of the lines in this shot, including the curves of the man’s hat and coat are angled towards a single vanishing point. In artistic terms, he evens out the composition by adding balance to the right side, without disrupting the directional flow. It’s magnificent how they’ve done so much with just this one shot.

Finally, one of the best scenes, and probably my favorite (pay attention to the way the two characters are framed, the length and distance of each shot, and even the color choices within the scene):