Sunday 10 June 2007

IT'S ALIVE!

Not only are they alive, but there are no strings attached!

In response to my recent blog about Archie Andrews, my friend Phil commented: "Lots of dummies (and dolls) in movies have a life of their own," going on to cite such examples as Dead of Night, Magic and (in the Hitchcock TV series) Riabouchinska. "What is it with these comedy turns," Phil asked, "that wants us to be scared of them?"


It was a question that got me thinking, not least because the 'technical adviser' on the ventriloquism sequence in the 1945 psycho-thriller, Dead of Night, was none other than Arthur Brough (left), father to Archie's guardian, Peter Brough.

Without question the most dramatic and disturbing sequence in this multi-segment portmanteau movie, directed by Alberto Cavalcanti and others, was that telling the story of ventriloquist Maxwell Frere and his ventriloquial dummy, Hugo Fitch - seen here to the right of Arthur Brough.

In an unforgettable performance by Michael Redgrave, the ventriloquist is seen degenerating into a state of utter insanity when his own personality is taken over by that of the terrifying, ever-smiling Hugo.

Despite only running for the length of a short-subject - and filmed in black and white! - this episode from Dead of Night runs rings of terror round the Technicolor, feature-length frights of Richard Attenborough's 1978 film of William Goldman's Magic.

Nevertheless, Magic, starring Anthony Hopkins, Ann-Margret and Burgess Meredith is typical of the evil doll/toy movie of which there have been legion from early pictures such as Tod Browning's 1936 sci-fi creeper, The Devil Doll, through to the various ghastly goings-on in the slew of movies starring Chucky and friends.

So, where does this concept come from?

For as long as children have had toys they have been bringing them to life in their imagination: endowing their dolls, teddies, soldiers, cowboys and indians with personalities, visualising them having adventures and, indeed, even creating worlds for them to inhabit...

The idea that toys come alive is deeply ingrained in our psyche - if you doubt me, visit i used to believe, and see just how many people have recollections of childhood fantasies about their nursery companions coming alive after 'lights out' and going off to have adventures on their own, or plotting to attack them or, far more commonly, ganging up to protect them from whatever monsters lurked in the darkness.

Children's literature is full of tales of the secret lives of toys - such as Winnie-the-Pooh, The Velveteen Rabbit and The Indian in the Cupboard - and the highly successful Toy Story franchise is an obvious manifestation of the same phenomenon.


When we grow "to man's estate" (or simply get a bit older!) we are not only taught to "put away childish things", but we are also taught that giving imagined life to inanimate objects is - depending on your cultural beliefs - blasphemous or psychotic.

The crime of Prometheus was in usurping powers reserved for the gods of Olympus. Firstly, Prometheus made mortal men from the clay of the earth, then he stole the fire of the gods (the very source of creativity) and gave it to mankind so that they, too, might create...

Which is why when, in 1818, Mary Shelley wrote her celebrated novel about Victor Frankenstein and what (thanks to Moviedom) we now call his 'Monster', she titled the volume Frankensten; or, The Modern Prometheus.

Ventriloquism and puppetry are rouge artforms and their wooden players - the Cheeky Chappies and Mr Punches - have (despite the best endeavours of the most rabid moralists) somehow always escaped the axe long enough to amuse or, perhaps, terrify us with their wide eyes, rictus grins and simulated lifelikeness...

But however much we tolerate them, we still subconsciously wonder whether they aren't playing in a forbidden playground - reaching for the power of the gods - to breath life into a dummy and to make it talk with a voice thrown through the air.

Small wonder, I think, that so many stories have sprung up to feed on that fear and seize on the concept of a doll, dummy or puppet that, once brought to life, has (like human beings) "free will" and (again like human beings) is equally capable of going towards the dark as towards the light...


[Images: Pooh & Co by E H Shepard; Boris Karloff as Frankentein's creature (on a USA postage stamp) by Thomas Blackshear II; portrait of 'Mr Punch' © Brian Sibley, 2007, from the superb Punch and Judy show presented by the incomparable Professor Geoff Felix]

9 comments:

Good Dog said...

Well, that's just what I wanted to read before turning in for the night. And scrolling down to the picture of Mr Punch....

Technically it's a comedy, but there's a good turn in 1941 where one of the look-out guys up on the ferris wheel brings along a dummy that wigs out Murray Hamilton's already-twitchy character. It's the dummy that spots the sub and screams "JAPS!!!"

Bela said...

I had to scroll down very quickly to get past that picture of Mr Punch: I find it terrifying (never been able to sit through one of those shows when I was a child in France - our Guignol puppets are just as scary as yours).

Boll Weavil said...

Toy Story is certainly an extension of the concept that an inanimate, fixed expression is terrifying and the makers were playing on a long-held fear when they used it to frighten on several occasions during the film. I never had such fears myself although I vaguely remember that clowns were considered pretty horrible and there was an urban legend about clown pictures surviving undamaged in burnt out houses when I was a lad. This came back to prominence recently when a fire in the Blackpool funfair left a working mannequin untouched. Nowadays of course, its much more scary seeing Bradbury's Marionettes turning on their master with independent thought, for if they are capable of such actions and totally undetectable when they walk amongst us, who really knows how many are already out there....

Brian Sibley said...

GOOD DOG & BELA - Sorry.....

BOL WEAVIL - Thanks for a fascinating piece of urban history...

The fear of clowns is, I think, widespread and very real: in fact, I fancy that almost as many people are terrified by the mere sight of them as are amused by their antics. I might write about my own clown experiences one day...

Boris Hiestand said...

I think a lot of the fear also comes from the designs of the dolls. Most times the eyes are wide open and staring into nothingness. Not knowing what goes on inside someone's head is always scary and the toys represent that fear with their eerie blank stares.

Clowns are scary for the same reason... an adult in a strange costume with make up covering his real expressions is freaky as hell!

Phil said...

Wow, you promised "more on this" a few days ago, and you fulfilled that promise. Thanks!

I suppose the whole science fiction subgenre of malicious robots stems from the same Promethean source. I notice the new incarnation of Dr Who is still running most of its plots from this.

Did you ever discuss Dead of Night with Ray Bradbury? I remember reading that he liked the film, but I wonder whether it directly influenced "And So Died Riabouchinska".

Brian Sibley said...

BORIS - How right you are!

PHIL - Concerning robots: yes, I think it's similar but with the added threat of technology... Maybe if they can calculate, they can reason, if they can reason then perhaps they can get out of control and threaten us...

I've never discussed 'Dead of Night' with Ray, but he is steeped in the mythology of puppets, toys, magic and automata... Whether or not it was directly inspired by the film, 'And So Died Riabouchinska' is surely from the selfsame box of paranoias...

Riddley Walker said...

It’s always those little monkeys that bash the cymbals together that completely freak me out.

And old Victorian dolls.

Brian Sibley said...

RIDLEY WALKER - Ohmygosh! The monkeys! I'd forgotten them! Ghastly! Especially the antique ones which always seem to have too many TEETH!