No. 74 - Ken Russell!!
I watched a bunch of films by UK filmmaker Ken Russell, a filmmaker who typically includes copious nudity, religious imagery, and stylization.
Crucifixions, Bare Breasts, and The Artist: The Films Ken Russell
This month The Criterion Channel highlighted British filmmaker Ken Russell by featuring ten of his films in a collection titled “Ken Russell’s Shocking Rhapsodies”. I had only been familiar with his horror films, the trippy Altered States (1980) and the shockingly weird The Lair of the White Worm (1988). Both films had wildly different tones, but both featured bizarre visuals that demonstrated a lack of interest in creating anything that looked “real” and, rather, something more expressionist. The Criterion Channel is currently streaming both of these impressive films along with many of his historical films, adaptations of stage plays, and his most infamous film, The Devils (1971). I took the plunge watched as many as I could this new year and even sought out Ken Russell films outside of those featured on Criterion. I emerged on the other side having seen a lot more crucifixes and bare breasts, but with a newfound appreciation for the maverick filmmaker.
The expressiveness I had picked up on in Altered States and The Lair of the White Worm turns out to be prevalent in all of Russell’s work. Sometimes it manifests in flamboyance, sometimes it manifests in pop surrealism, and, in a great deal of his work, it manifests in theatricality. Nearly of his films feature bold visual direction. Large scale films like the futurist modern production in the 17th Century set exorcism film The Devils (1971) and the elaborate farcical 1920s set musical The Boyfriend (1971) and the smaller scale films like the hallucinatory Gothic (1986) or Russell’s adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s bawdy one act play Salome’s Last Dance (1988). Even films considered more “pop” like his neon drenched DePalma riff Crimes of Passion (1984) is loaded with allusions to classic artworks and The Who’s Tommy (1975) is an excessive work of pop art in the form of a rock opera. It makes sense that he would eventually go on to direct operas, as his films seem influenced by the mise-en-scene of stage productions.
While two of the films I watched of his were adaptations from the stage, The Boyfriend and Salome’s Last Dance, they both had the post-modern twist by having the plays be plays within the film and the actors and audience members having a role in a larger story. Russell seemed quite fond of exploring different ways to tell stories. His biopic Mahler (1974) is told through a series of recollections interspersed with dreams and fantasies. Some of these memories are embedded within other memories and are often prone to stylization.
What these flamboyant stylistic choices and narrative choices tend to emphasize, outside of Russell’s own desire to explore his own creativity, are the desires within its characters. These larger than life feelings are too big for a realistic depiction and needed alien landscapes, elaborate costumes, exaggerated performances, and experimental editing to fully convey these feelings. These feelings, more often than not, were often focused on characters faith, their sexuality, and their passion. Frequently, it was all three and how they came at odds with the real world.
Faith
If there’s one thing you can count on in a Ken Russell movie, it’s that someone’s getting up on that crucifix. The image is a striking one and often is in reference to some kind of sacrifice. More often than not, Russell recreates it for a subversive angle on the concept of sacrifice.
In Tommy, it is Tommy’s father presumed dead in WWII returning to life only to be killed again. His death triggers Tommy’s loss of senses which would eventually lead to Tommy’s own rebirth as a messiah. Before that, the only other time Tommy depicts organized religion is a scam where a false idol is used to cheat the needy out of their money. In typical pop art fashion, the hokey church is devoted to Marilyn Monroe. Eventually, when the titular Tommy becomes a pinball messiah, he spreads his message of peace and love with records and t-shirts. Faith, at least in Tommy, is economically restricting, taking money from the poor in order to line the pockets of Tommy and his parents (who are already rich from Tommy’s earnings as the pinball lord - its a weird movie.)
Faith too restricts Gustav Mahler’s economic situation in Mahler. Influential antisemite Cosima Wagner refuses to grant Gustav Mahler work as a composer and conductor because of his Judaism, restricting his ability to practice his passion. Stylized in a Looney Tunes-esque sequence, Mahler renounces his Judaism and is then forced to undergo trials issued by Wagner (depicted here as a crazed Nazi Valkyrie) to prove that he has truly renounced his faith. Once he has sacrificed this part of himself, he becomes a sort of non-practicing Catholic who is free to pursue his passion.
In Russell’s most controversial work though, faith never loosens its restrictive hold. In fact, The Devils depicts it as restrictive as it is malleable. Just as Father Grandier is able to interpret the words of God to fit his progressive and open-minded lifestyle, Baron de Laubardemont and witch-hunter Father Barre are able to twist it into a weapon to politically and physically pummel their enemies into violent submission. The whole film is driven by Baron de Laubardemont’s bloodthirsty desire to kill Protestants and Father Grandier’s attempts to protect them. They are only able to turn Grandier into a pariah and execute him (thereby making him a martyr) by exploiting the faith based restrictions the nuns in the nearby convent have placed upon themselves. They exploit their sexual repression.
Horny
Indeed, Ken Russell movies are undeniably horny. Phallic objects, both male and female nudity, and expressions of pure desire are present throughout Russell’s work. Repressing these desires often leads to as much calamity as letting it run wild.
Sister Jeanne de Anges, the abbess of the convent of nuns in The Devils, is driven quite mad by her desire for Father Grandier. She masturbates and tortures herself as she fantasizes about his naked body on a crucifix. This unchecked repression eventually leads to her being suspect of demon possession at the fault of Grandier. As the situation spirals out of control, her sisters too are accused and are driven into a similar sexual hysteria. In the end, both the desirer and the object of desire are put onto a path to ruin.
As is the case too in Salome’s Last Dance where, as in Oscar Wilde’s play based on the New Testament story, Princess Salome not only brings about the death of John the Baptist because of her unchecked lust for his forbidden body, but also her own when she is executed for bringing about his death. What makes this adaptation of Salome so much fun is that in Russell’s film it is being put on by a brothel that is acquainted with Oscar Wilde. Wilde mills about and shoots lusty glares at the scantily clad actors. Funnily enough, Wilde and the brothel owner are arrested at the end of the film for their indecency. They seem in good spirits about it as they are carted off, mostly happy to talk about how the play might be performed next time. Their passion for their sexual expression and the arts outweighing any moral consequence is particularly evident as they both laugh-off the fact that one of the performers was killed on set.
It seems the prison of polite society and morality is only shattered by the sexually liberated in Russell’s films. Gothic sees Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, and Percy Shelley experiencing artistic highs through sensuality, but the sexual frustration of their friend Dr Polidori drives much of the conflict. Their sensual experimentation, through flesh and drugs seems to act as an escape from their tortured inner lives, with Shelley trying to escape the torment of her dead child. Similarly, China Blue, the sex worker in Crimes of Passion, takes on the oldest profession to escape the real traumatized version of herself and pretend to be a confident person who wields imaginative power over any man who enters her hotel room.
Expression
It’s the power that one is granted to create fascinates Russell the most. As a creator, you see throughout his films the incredible production he and his crew consistently deliver. Frequently in his work, his work questions where the drive to create comes from and what it is for.
Gustav Mahler throws away a portion of his identity when he converted to Catholicism in Mahler because artistic expression is paramount to him. He sequesters himself away from the world and becomes cold to those around him in order to pursue his art. Wilde thinks only in artistic and whimsical pursuits, so death and imprisonment don’t bother him at the end of Salome.
What is all this creative expression for? For Mahler, he is called to it and must create it at all costs. For Mary Shelley, Gothic seems to imply the act of creation both exorcises personal demons, but also unleashes them onto the world. Most innocently, in The Boy Friend, all the players in musical are trying to impress a famous filmmaker in the audience so they can have a shot at becoming rich and famous with the exception of the protagonist Polly who only performs to express her fondness for another player. This motivation is directly compared to the other players as their on-stage performances are gaudy and annoying, while Polly’s is naturalistic, naive, and real. In the end she is the one picked by the filmmaker, but she doesn’t want to perform for the money. She just wants to perform what’s in her heart.
In Russell’s least visually expressive movie, Savage Messiah (1972), sculptor Henri Gaudier-Brzrska and his muse Sophie Brzska-Gaudier express every feeling and thought they have the very moment they have it save for the deep passionate feelings they have for each other. When the film ends on his early death, there is a sense that, despite creating incredible works of art, there was more to be expressed. More art to be made. More feelings to be had. More desire.
Russell typically chooses excess when it comes to expression, but it always feels genuine and from the heart. He chooses to invoke the great artists of history in all of his work that he is clearly quite excited to include. This allows an intertextuality that makes it clear his work exists in the grand fabric of art making. Someone recently asked me who I’d trust more to judge art, critics or artists. After watching all these Ken Russell movies, I know that I’d trust artists to understand the work, the themes, and the influences that go into every piece. Every time, Russell demonstrates it all.
Ken Russell’s Shocking Rhapsodies are available to stream on The Criterion Channel
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Stray Observations
Earlier this week I did a mini-issue about this year’s Golden Globes. There was some drama this year, but I mainly stuck to discussing the winners and losers.
Speaking of award season, the Oscars are coming up! With all the ado with them comes The Governors Awards, designed to acknowledge select individuals for their lifetime of work. This year, The Governor’s Awards were hosted by John Mulaney who provided an expectedly hilarious speech. Mulaney’s playful self-effacing is in full effect and he clearly takes great care to craft jokes that are actually about the movies. You can watch it here:
Perhaps I’m a tad late to the party on this one, but I’ve recently gotten into the album i was mature for my age, but i was still a child (2023) by grouptherapy. The group consists of TJOnline, SWIM, and Jadagrace who all share throughout the album their difficult experiences and how those shaped them. The tracks range from tranquil to aggressive, but all have this really exciting contemporary feeling to them. Even my two favorite tracks from the album, “FUNKFEST” and “American Psycho”, illustrate the diverse sounds on the album. It’s the first album I’ve really had on repeat this year and it will likely continue to be one I return to.
I have played my share of fighting games. I kicked ass at Mortal Kombat and Dragon Ball Z: Budokai Tenkaichi 3 in college. I got my ass kicked in Super Smash Bros in my adolescence. Either way, I have always enjoyed the experience. These fighting games, for me, were almost never about the story. Games like Street Fighter and Tekken had stories that seemed needlessly convoluted for what I was coming to the games for; seeing two cool characters punch and kick eachother. Fortunately, Namco has put out a video explaining Tekken’s “ Story So Far” and, hilariously enough, they hired Brian Cox to star in the video. Imagine my joy hearing veteran actor Brian Cox describing the “devil gene.” Its borderline absurd, but I appreciate the strangeness of it. Doubt they showed him gameplay or even let him play a few rounds, but his feigned enthusiasm is enough for me. You can watch the video here:
Every year I look forward to film critic David Ehrlich’s countdown of the best films of the year. Ehrlich compiles his list into a beautiful montage that utilizes music featured in the films from that year to cleverly create thematic connections between the films. Some times does this to playful aplomb with his editing to create funny visual gags and silly dissonance. Other times he is reaching deep down into the emotional cores of the films and pulling out something I didn’t really consider before. I’ll admit, I got a little choked up at the end of this year’s countdown. You can watch here:
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