Showing posts with label wynston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wynston. Show all posts

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Me, a Swimmer, and The Creature From the Black Lagoon: An Unnatural Love Affair

What’s wrong with the Creature From the Black Lagoon is everything that is wrong with science and religion. Love.


I can still remember when I first saw this movie. It was a long time ago. Throughout six and seventh grade I spent many Friday nights with my best friends Joshua and Nathaniel. We’d stay up “late” at Josh’s, sitting on his floor watching old movies his father had rented for us. We’d watch the classics: Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man, Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy, Abbott and Costello Battle Racism and Oppression in White Hollywood. And we’d watch the creature features, like The Creature From the Black Lagoon.

Remember when you were little, and you were never sure whether something was going to be really scary, or just exciting and funny instead? Watching The Creature From the Black Lagoon is very much like that. When you’re young so many things that shouldn’t be scary are scary, like dead bodies, and missing links, and girls. But when we get older the really terrifying stuff in the night comes out, like loneliness, and lose, and woman. And if we’re lucky those things can still be funny too. But what was nice was that back then they always were funny and scary. Back when we were little everything scary had the possibility of being funny, and that’s the way it should be. We should be able to laugh at ourselves over the stupid stuff we get torn up and freaked out over. I remember hiding in Josh’s closet, wound up in a curtain, waiting for Nathaniel to come out of the bathroom so I could jump out at him. And remember that feeling you used to get, that feeling when you’re trying to scare someone, and you’re so tied into it, so excited and young and funny that you’re scared too? Scared of your own tricks, of your own jokes, of how young and stupid and sublime you are. I had that felling. And it was wonderful, wonderful to be scared.

That’s what The Creature From the Black Lagoon is like. You don’t know if you should be scared or laughing. And usually it changes every time you watch it. Just like when you’re trying to scare someone else, if you want it to be scary, if you’re willing to let yourself go, let yourself be a part of it, it can be as scary and exciting as anything in life can be.

The last time I watched The Creature From the Black Lagoon I decided to get a professional opinion on the movie. So I went to Wynston Rose McCreary- The Swimmer. And right away she hit it right on the head:

“I don’t get it…is it supposed to be funny?”

Wynston is completely right, sometimes you can’t tell! The Creature From the Black Lagoon doesn’t always make sense. The character himself…its self, really is a contradiction between science and religion. And no, not like the way Nightcrawler is a Catholic, or John McCain is a Republican, but the way Jesus is the son of God, or Orion is the son of Darksied, or Luke is the son of Vader.

You have to understand; the level of weirdness in this film is of that like you’ve never seen before. It isn’t a horror film, or a slasher, or a thriller; it’s a creature feature. The villain isn’t evil, or demented, or a Dracula, they’re just weird. They’re blobs and flies and gillmen. The Opening scene of Creature is the creation of the heavens and the earth…and then all of a sudden WHAM! they cut to the primordial sands of evolution and start talking about how all life evolved out of the sea, pulling itself up from the dregs and the muck and pretending to be man. They even say the world is over 15 million years old. See? They’re coming at us from all angles!

The Main character, The Creature, Gillman, is no less confusing when you think about him. He’s a sort of missing link, part man, part fish. Have you ever watched a fish in a tank? They’re fucking crazy! And so is Gillman. Fish are like retarded hairless dogs that can breath underwater. They go all over the place, eat all sorts of stuff, chase and roll and scrap with one another, and what do they do at the end of the day? Die on you. And Gillman is the same way.

In the film a group of scientist travel to the Amazon searching for The Creature. And, of course, they have to bring along a young, pretty, she-scientist. And of course, Gillman falls in love and tries to kidnap her. Which makes no sense! I’m not sure what he wants with her, he has no penis. So why is he kidnapping her if he can’t rape her? What, is he going to wait for her to drop her eggs and swim up stream so he can then fertilize them? Or, of course, maybe he’s just a little curious and wants to dry hump her a bit.

Honestly though, I find it pretty upsetting that the science crew and I totally expect Gillman to rape the girl. Why can’t he just kidnap her? Why can’t he just want someone to talk to, some company? Why is that so unbelievable? Oh yeah, because he’s a fish man. And that is exactly what makes Gillman so tragic: He’s a fish that is in love with a woman… not even Shakespeare could have written a story that compelling. Gillman, the eunuch child of creationism and evolution, is in love with a white woman in 1954. And, in the end it isn’t tragic, or cute, or anything lasting, it’s just unnatural, unreal, unbelievable. But, like any good love affair, totally frightening and worth dying for.

Sitting there in my room watching the movie for the first time in years with The Swimmer I had to consider our own unnatural love affair and how deep and weird and wet it was. I had to think about how long I’d known Wynston, how I’d met her, and how we’d gotten where we were, sitting there across my bed. When I first met Wynston I was all over her, just like Gillman. But unlike Gillman, her and I are really good friends now, and I didn’t get shot and lit on fire and drugged and killed for loving her.

I really do love her; she’s my best friend. And it really is weird and wet and deep, but it’s also real, and like any good friendship totally frightening sometimes and absolutly unnatural.

I think in the end what is most upsetting about The Creature’s story is that the very people that came looking for him kill him. They chased him down, they cornered him, they made him fall in love. And isn’t that the way it always is? We ask for it, we want it, we know the score and the price, but we still fall in love, we still go looking for it. That’s the point though. We fall in love and risk the weirdness of it all, the possible pains and growths and fears, but we still do it. And like we’re being transported through the Amazon or back to childhood we’re struck with the sudden fear and excitement and thrill of being scared. And it’s that thrill, that horror, that funny feeling that makes us laugh out loud when we know we love someone and are scared as hell that we do. And it’s that laugh that makes the search and the pain and the black waters all worth the while.



“Why is a movie about a black lagoon so reflective to me?”
“I wonder what color their clothes are.”

-Caleb, The Eunuch Child of Creationism and Evolution + Wynston Rose, The Swimmer

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

"Check it out… he’s a DRACULA!!”

So, you know the Universal Monsters? Yeah. Me too. And, for a while, I thought everyone did. But no.

I’m not even going to get into Frankenstein (that’ll come another time), but Dracula; aw boy. He’s a pimp, that’s a fact. Not only does he live in a castle swerving game all over some nasty vixen , dress to impress rockin’ a cape, and suck on necks like it ain’t no thing, but he’s also been the father to more horror stories and creations than any other of the Universal Monsters. Don't believe me, check it out: Blacula, Count Von Count “the Count”, Dr. Acula, Alucard, and any guy that whore Buffy ever got down with. Oh, and about a googolplex of porno characters. Yeah boiiiiiii! Oh, and Batman. Oh, and Nelson too.


But honestly, Dracula, he’s taking a beating. I kind of feel bad for him. No, I really do feel bad for him. Bram Stoker wrote him as a caricature of evil, a stereotypes of the dark and the dirty and the incredibly sexy. Dracula was those things that go bump in the night, who actually could go bump in the night, and did.

-“I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind with a little bump and grind”

Dracula was a frustration and contradiction, and it must have worn on him. He was a lover who could not love, an undead living out death as a man of action who was not a man. And he did it all in the dark… in England…with a bunch of protestants….sort of…for a little while.

But what is Dracula now? As I said, Stoker wrote him as a caricature of other, short sighted fears. But now, he is even a caricature of that, of his once strong self. He’s a joke. A sharp orifice with a widow’s peak. That’s not sexy, that’s not money baby.
And Count Dracula was money baby. He was fresh.

So looking past Stoker and Nosferatu, and Batman and Manbat, and Count Dooku and Saruman and let’s talk about the man, the one that deserves the credit, the love, the cash and the women: Bela Lugosi. The man made Count Dracula, Dracula. Lugosi is the reason some little kids and foreigners and those people I mentioned who don’t know the Universal Monsters yell “he’s a DRACULA!,” and not “he’s a vampire!” Because Dracula’s the only one that even matters! BECAUSE HE’S A DRACULA! HE IS DRACULA!

Bela Lugosi was a holy cross burnt on film. A ghost, so lifeless and empty of anything but evil his character wasn’t a reflection of light on film, but a burn mark or a vacuum. Lugosi was Dracula, he did travel to America from Eastern Europe, and I bet his boat had a few dead crewmen and rats, and he couldn’t really speak very well, and he kind of looked sickly and grotesque, but he was rolling in it. Yeah boiii. Yes boy.

And people don’t know who he is? HE’S A DRACULA!

So that’s it, I’m going to tell them all. A piece for each, of last words, or a eulogy, an epitaph, or a salute, or a shout out; for the biggies, the masters, those monsters, the terrors and inspirations. Who? The Universal Monsters! Those DRACULAS!:
-Frankenstein’s Monster
-The Phantom
-The Mummy
-The Invisible Man
-The Bride of Frankenstein
-The Wolf Man
-And The Creature from the Black Lagoon

…but fuck the hunchback, and his Disney gypsy…

So, if you have no idea who the Universal Monsters are, if you don’t know Dracula's a vampire, or you think that the Invisible Man is the same thing as the Headless Horseman, or that Frankenstein "has bolts in his head an shit...and he's green, right?”, and you have no clue about the Wolf man, or you just think mummies look like “someone wrapped in toilet paper or something... and they walk around with there arms out...or something...no those are zombies right? Or do mummies do that too?”…

Or, if you just think that, well, "monsters are green,” than you might enjoy some of this. Or you might just want to pretend you’re a little kid again, and that all of this is true, and is happening in your neighborhood, and in your closet, and under your bed, and you might just want to enjoy that feeling instead, while you still can. Because one day the only thing that’ll be left to be scared of, will be the really scary things, those things that really are a Dracula.

Oh, and remember, like my good friend Wynston taught me one frightful night:

“Monsters are green…Apples are green. Apples, are green.”
(…and no Biasman, she wasn’t high)

-CML, The Invisible Dr.Glogger’s Monster from the Blacula Lagoon…. Returned….’s bride….
In Black and White