Tuesday, October 17, 2017
MYTHICITY: (1) *good,* (2) *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological, sociological, psychological*
It's almost ten years since the original IRON MAN movie came out. Though it's far from the perfect superhero movie, I've decided to give a "good" mythicity rating in part because it proved as important to its genre in the 2000s as the Tim Burton BATMAN was in the 1990s. Had Marvel Studios not re-acquired the rights to the character in 2006 and made this film, it's entirely possible that the superhero boom of the early 2000s would have dwindled once the big studios ran through the A-list names like X-Men and Spider-Man. Marvel Studios, having a more intimate investment in the genre, used IRON MAN as a linchpin for introducing the mainstream audience to the pleasures of a superheroic shared universe.
Director Jon Favreau is probably correct in crediting some of the first movie's appeal in its "independent film" approach. In contrast to many of the earlier superhero flicks, IRON MAN pays a great deal of attention to establishing character interactions, giving the actors a lot of material in which to invest themselves, as opposed to emoting in front of a green-screen. Back on my first viewing, I was impressed with the film's updating of Iron Man's origin, as well as the central character's shift away from munitions manufacturing. And yet, now I find myself giving the writers less credit in those departments. For instance, the comic-book origin was strong material to start with. In contrast, it's amazing that the scripters made such a silk purse out of the sow's-ear known as the "Obadiah Stane" arc from an early 1980s run of the IRON MAN comic. It was in these issues that writer Denny O'Neil contrived to give Tony Stark a new competitor who took over his business, one who had very loose ties to Stark's late father. The original arc was tedious and superficial, but it seems to have been integral to the movie-script's interpretation of the Tony Stark character in terms of his "daddy issues."
Those paternal conflicts also play into Stark's early willingness to churn out weapons for the military while making excuses about how his technological advances save other lives. Given that Robert Downey Jr. was in his forties when he essayed the character, that factor makes it difficult to credence Tony Stark being naive about the ways of politics and the manufacture of weapons. Still, one may choose to view Stark as an example of "delayed adulthood," which may be one reason he resonated with Millennials, as against the "jet-set industrialist" model on which Stan Lee based the comic-book Stark. Further, whereas Lee probably meant no irony in having Stark injured while selling his munitions-- after all, in the comic-book origin, the munitions-maker is wounded by a primitive Asian trap-- whereas the scripters of the movie clearly wanted Stark to reap the consequences of his own "death merchant" acts, even if villain Obadiah Stane is directly responsible for the munitions falling into enemy hands.
Downey's irreverent but lovable scapegrace is given greater depth by his two primary supporting characters, secretary Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) and military buddy James Rhodes (Terence Howard). Though they're both functioning adults, clearly they can't help enjoying Stark's antics, and so the viewer finds said antics harmless as well. IRON MAN of course cannot escape the deeper sociopolitics of the munitions industry, so in this context it's enough that he does come to see "the bigger stick" as a morally bankrupt course of action. In its place, naturally enough, is the superhero's solution of direct personal action, while his negative image and "bad father" Stane validates Stark's decision by showing his willingness to exploit technology at the cost of humanity.
IRON MAN 2, however, proves somewhat less balanced than the debut film. With the bad father out of the way, the script must substitute an excuse for Stark to spiral into self-indulgence again. It's been stated that the script was indirectly influenced by a well-received story-arc from the comic book, in which Stark became an alcoholic as the result of work-pressures. Favteau's scripters only touched on alcoholic visual motifs, but chose to situate these in terms of an almost manic-depressive concept of Stark, oscillating between moods of invincibility-- seen in the opening scenes where Stark celebrates himself through the medium of a science expo-- and moods of extreme depression. The depression comes about logically enough, as Stark tries to come to terms with the fact that the very device that keeps his heart beating is also slowly poisoning him.
Though alcoholism is not the direct cause, Stark-- who has publicly confessed his identity as Iron Man, and who refuses the military access to his armor-- begins acting like a manic drunk, even when in armor. This plot-line culminates in emnity between Stark and his two major support-characters, which leads to major violence when Rhodes dons a duplicate set or armor, takes the name "War Machine," and battles Iron Man in an attempt to bring him under control. This is one of the few areas in which IRON MAN 2 exceeds the original, since the battle of the armored titans here is far better choreographed than the one in the 2008 film. Of course, by film's end Rhodes and Potts are both on Stark's side again, and the key to the industrialist's reformation lies, ironically enough, in his making contact with his late father, who never seemed to appreciate Stark in life.
Downey provides, if anything, an even more nuanced version of the quirky Stark persona than he did in the first film. However, "for every bit of good there's a little bit of bad," and in this case it's a badly chosen villain. Whiplash, a minor villain from the comics, is pressed into service as a "big bad," a conniving Russian whose father's fortunes were ruined by his interaction with Stark's father. Perhaps Favreau and company might have sold viewers on this character, had they been consistent about pitching him as a master planner from the first. However, they introduce him by having him attack Stark in public, like a hundred other vengeance-seeking villains-- and once that's happened, it's hard to credit such a reckless figure as being the great manipulator seen in the rest of the film. I should add that the script also takes one of Iron Man's better 1970s villains, a master-planner type named Justin Hammer, and downgrades him into a pawn of Whiplash.
Sadly, bad judgments regarding the Armored Avenger's villains extended into IRON MAN 3, to date the last and least of the series. But at least the first film stands as one of the more substantive superhero films, even if there seems little potential for any more solo films with the character in the near future.
Friday, October 13, 2017
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*
I still remember seeing this film advertised back in The Day, but I never saw it in the theaters. Something Weird preserved it, and I finally saw it via a Youtube download, confirming my suspicion that it would have been a stone bore in a theater, despite the copious upper-body nudity of the title character (played by one Femi Benussi).
Jungle girls tend to fall into two broad (so to speak) categories: the tough babes and the innocent sylphs. The Italian film-industry tended to make the latter, like the slightly earlier LUANA, though I did wonder if the filmmakers would lean more toward the former pattern, since they'd bothered to rip off the name of the seminal "tough jungle hero." However, such was not the case.
TARZANA is an absolutely by-the-numbers exercise in "jungle rot." A little white girl, the offspring of an English lord, is lost in the African jungle. Fifteen years later, the lord hears reports of a mysterious white girl living in the wilds, and suspects that it may be his lost daughter. Thus he funds an expedition to go looking for the mystery lady.
Often expeditions of white adventurers encounter a lot of opposition from both wild animals and hostile native tribes. TARZANA doesn't bother even coming up to the meager level of LUANA's entertainments, as the former depends a lot of stock footage. Thus the film hardly finds time for any battles between the expedition and the local wildlife. What passes for conflict is that, while some of the adventurers sincerely want to bring Tarzana back to civilization and her grandfather, others want to capture the wild girl for exhibition and profit.
Like Luana, Tarzana never speaks, and so it's never clear as to how she survived in the jungle sans help from local natives. She also seems to have acquired some influence over some of the usual animals-- monkeys, elephants-- and though she shows no talent for fighting, she does at one point send some elephants around to stomp the adventurers' camp. Had this scene been the climax of the film, I might have judged it a combative adventure. However, the end-sequence is mostly about two of the good people managing to approach Tarzana-- despite her having been hit with a trank-date by bad guys-- and to remind her of her forgotten past by showing the girl a doll she once owned. It's a paltry form of drama, but said climax, as well as the movie's endless small talk, pushes this one more toward the mythos of the drama.
Benussi's nudity has some appeal, but the film's main interest for me is that I wondered how it was ever exhibited in America, given that the "Tarzan" trademark has been aggressively protected by the heirs of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
PHENOMENALITY: (1) *marvelous,* (2,4) *naturalistic,* (3) *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: (1,2, 4) *fair,* (2) *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological, metaphysical, sociological, cosmologicaL*
Up to this point, Caine has only encountered other Chinese martial artists who were either out to kill him for a bounty or who, like Captain Lee of "The Way of Violence Has No Mind," gained Shaolin skills without actually attending the temple. The titular character in "The Passion of Chen Yi" is a fellow priest whom Caine knew during his own temple-service, and there was a bond between them more of animosity than of fellowship.
Nevertheless, Chen Yi is for some reason on Caine's mind at the start of "Passion," to the extent that Caine seeks out an old Chinese man for advice. In the episode's only marvelous touch, the elder informs Caine of exactly where Chen Yi can be found, relying on what the old fellow calls "emanations."
Once Caine arrives at the town where Chen Yi last resided, he learns that the former Shaolin priest has been sentenced to hang for murder in the next few days. Caine remembers that Chen Yi was an arrogant priest, and that he maneuvered Caine into a fight-- which Caine lost-- so that Caine would serve as his go-between, taking messages to an outside mistress. The Shaolin masters find out about Chen Yi's duplicity before Cains becomes enmeshed in the other priest's transgressions, and thus Chen Yi is turned out. But evidently the matter preyed on Caine as an unresolved conflict, and since Caine does not believe that any Shaolin would commit gratuitous murder, he decides to investigate. Having been told that Chen Yi is in the local prison and that no visitor can see him, Caine simply goes through the motions of holding up the local bank-- naturally, without wielding a gun or even harsh words-- and gets himself sentenced to the same prison.
Chen Yi (Soon Teck-Oh) is surprised to see Caine, but he maintains that he committed the murder and is willing to hang for it. Caine then uses his superior skills to escape prison and to continue his investigation. This leads him to Chen Yi's ex-girlfriend Louise and her (perhaps) crippled sister Rita. It's no great revelation to disclose that the girls killed the murder victim and that Chen Y, has chosen to accept death in her place, believing that Louise loves him, when she and Rita really just want a patsy. Caine returns to prison and challenges Chen Yi to a martial arts battle, designed to force the innocent man to leave prison and find out the truth for himself. This time Caine bests the man who beat him earlier, and Chen Yi learns the unhappy truth that his sensuality has once more betrayed him. It's a strong dramatic episode, although the wrap-up is a little too glib about how easily Chen Yi's murder conviction is overturned and the real culprits are condemned in his place.
"Arrogant Dragon" emphasizes drama less than adventure, in Caine's second encounter with the Tong society. The Shaolin seeks another generic Western town, questing after the family of businessman Wu Chang and his daughter Kem. For some reason the script is unusually coy about Caine's purpose, but it's eventually revealed that the priest befriended another Chinese man while working on a railroad. That man perished in a railroad accident, leaving Caine to carry the news to Kem, by whom Kem has conceived an unborn child.
This part of the story was perhaps de-emphasized in order to give more screen time to Wu Chang's situation. Though apparently a respectable businessman, he's actually a member of the local Tong. However, upon learning that his daughter was pregnant, he made plans to desert his post and return to China. One of Wu Chang's rivals finds out and exposes the recalcitrant businessman. Caine intervenes, initially willing to fight the Tong's huge executioner for Wu Chang's freedom. In a rare development, Caine uses Oriental chemistry to avoid a fight-- resorting to an aconite potion to fake Wu Chang's death. But the ploy fails, to the good fortune of viewers, who get to see the hero use his skills on the almost invincible executioner.
I don't remember that I found "The Nature of Evil" to be one of the series' better episodes back in The Day, but now I find it a superior mytholpoeic effort. As the title suggests, it's a meditation on the meaning of evil in the world of KUNG FU. Not surprisingly, the mythos of the series runs counter to Judeo-Chrisitian traditions of simply expelling evil. In the episode's only flashback, Young Caine expatiates to Master Po his impressions of the evil in his own soul, and Po replies that beneficial emotions like pride and joy are impossible without their opposites. The wise man can only confront evil, and choose.
Caine is catching a ride with a wagon-master when he suddenly receives what seems (much more loosely than the psychic episode in "Passion") an impulse to desert his present course and take off in a tangential direction. He's told that the only thing in that direction is a no-account town by the name of Nineveh. Unable to explain his impulse, Caine still seeks out the town with the Biblical name.
Like the Biblical city, this one also has a prophetic figure who has come to excoriate the evil in the community. But the blind preacher Serenity Johnson, last seen in "Dark Angel," has come not to reform the town, but to seek out a particular devil hiding there. Caine soon learns that Serenity's former comrade Sunny Jim was viciously murdered by a hold--up man described as having "skin colored like wax" and "looking like he was hanged, but the hanging didn't take."
For the benefit of the townspeople who are sheltering the evildoer-- albeit only out of fear-- Serenity poses as a fortune-teller, complete with Tarot cards. Serenity's earlier experience as a conman makes it likely that his drawing of convenient cards like "The Devil" and "The Hanged Man" is mere trickery, but the criminal himself-- never given any name, and billed in IMDB as "The Hanged Man"-- seems to have uncanny resources.
For instance, Serenity isn't the only one seeking the criminal; there's also a bounty-hunter named Bascomb. However, because Bascomb is motivated only by money, the Hanged Man subverts him by directing him to a more valuable target: a certain fugitive Shaolin. How the villain gets hold of Caine's wanted poster is not explained, thus furthering the idea that he is in a metaphorical sense the incarnation of the evil in all men, and thus has access to all their dark deeds.
Caine bests the bounty hunter easily enough, and is finally given guidance to his quarry by a young woman who has been in bondage-- not entirely unwilling-- to the evildoer. The Hanged Man-- played with a purposefully stolid lack of affect by Morgan Woodward-- reveals that he only killed Sunny Jim because killing helps the villain forget the pain of his own near-execution. Fittingly, for a villain who is symbolically the risen dead, he battles Caine in the town's soap-factory, and suffers a second death by both "fire" and "water" when the villain plunges into a boiling soap-vat.
"The Nature of Evil" would have made a good closing episode for the season, but for whatever reason, the producers chose to conclude with a two-part episode-- #22 and #23, both titled "The Cenotaph."
This episode is focused on two forms of unconventional romance. In the series' longest "flashback sequence" to date. the viewer sees Adolescent Caine experience his first love-affair. Circumstances force him to protect Mayli Ho (Nancy Kwan), one of the emperor's concubines, from a bandit-leader. The bandit is not much of a threat, but he forces the priest and the concubine to remain in each other's company long enough that they fall for one another. Naturally, in due time they conclude that their social stations are too far apart for them to live together. This part of the story is adequate, notable for featuring Nancy Kwan at the height of her short-lived stardom.
The contemporary story forces Caine to become the frequently-bemused protector of a wild-bearded mountain man, McBurney. The man hijacks a reinforced stagecoach not for profit, but so that he can use it to transport a huge wooden box. What's in the box? McBurney claims it's his wife, but he can't keep straight whether she's alive or not. Caine is not the only one curious as to the box's contents: so are a couple of ratty thieves, the U.S, cavalry, and a bunch of Indians who may or may not be related to the person in the box. There's an involved backstory about McBurney's relationship to his wife and the circumstances of her (alleged) death. It's a moderately amusing episode if one is in the mood for broad comedy, but it doesn't jibe very well with the overall tone of the season. It feels like the star and the producers just decided to have fun instead of projecting their usual portentousness.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
PHENOMENALITY: (1) *naturalistic,* (2,3) *uncanny*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *metaphysical, sociological*
The episode-title "In Uncertain Bondage" recalls Somerset Maugham's famous book-title, OF HUMAN BONDAGE. Maugham's idea of bondage, however, involved a form of romantic enthrallment, while the TV show is more concerned with the way people naturally bond with one another when social strictures are set aside.
Once again a stagecoach serves as a medium to link the wandering priest with the destinies of tormented people in the Old West. This stage contains a rich young Southern woman Dora Burnham and her entourage: Tait, a former Southern officer set to guard her on her way to see a doctor for her weak heart, and Jenny and Seth, both former slaves who grew up with Dora but who now work as paid servants. Dora has a heart episode when Caine is present, and he uses Eastern medicine to help her through it. The Shaolin 's good deed is rewarded with captivity, for Dora's three companions have conspired to hold her for a ransom from her wealthy father. (How any Southerner held to any wealth following the Civil War is any viewer's guess.) The kidnappers abduct Caine as well, since they want to keep Dora alive to write a ransom note.
However, Dora, full of Southern pride and scandalized that her own maid betrayed her, won't write the note. Tait has the solution, for their hideout happens to be adjacent to a dank, dry well. He drops both Dora and Caine into the well and waits for Dora to surrender, counting on Caine to keep her well enough to suffer in the cold well.
Once Dora is alone with Caine, it's clear that she expects him to be her servant, due to the difference in their social stations. Caine does serve her, but not for that reason. His flashbacks make clear that he once experienced a reversal of his usual expectations, when Master Kan volunteered to switch places with him and become servant to his student. This "teaching moment" brought Caine an understanding of the need to provide service not because of stations, but out of empathy. Dora then gets her own lesson in empathy when Caine falls ill. Dora must tend him simply because he's a human being in distress, and she writes the ransom note to save Caine was well. Caine doesn't become too sick to fulfill his role of hero, though. After Tait gets his ransom note, he plans to kill both Dora and Caine once he gets the money. In the tradition of an officer, he tries to slay Caine with a saber, and Caine naturally manages to outfight him with nothing more than a convenient stick.
Jenny and Seth are supporting characters, and as such are not explored in depth. However, it's refreshing that Jenny rejects categorically Dora's expectation that she owes the highborn woman any loyalty just because she's been obliged to serve Dora, both as slave and paid servant. When Jenny protests Tait's decision to kill Jenny's former mistress, Jenny protests not out of some jejune sentimentality toward her former mistress, but simply because Jenny has a distaste for killing.
The metaphors present in the title "Night of the Owls, Day of the Doves" prove more than a little strained. Once again Caine stumbles across a dead man who has left behind his will, and the priest dutifully delivers the document to its destination. The will assigns valuable property to a group of "soiled doves," as the script calls them, simply because the ladies ran the dead man's favorite cathouse. However, there's a local bigwig who wants to acquire the property without paying much for it, and he happens, for obscure reasons, to run a group of vigilantes who dress up in Klan-like robes, but with "owlish" motifs.
The script for "Owls," having offered the contrast between virtuous harlots and respectable gentlemen with secret vices, does almost nothing with it. The ladies are thrilled with their windfall, except for one Chinese girl, Cinnamon, who nurses some animosity toward Shaolin priests. Though Caine becomes unusually absorbed in the problems of almost everyone he encounters, he doesn't seem to want to help the prostitutes fight off the vigilantes. Then Cinnamon reveals that the reason she's a prostitute is that she was sold to a Chinese cathouse so that her brother could buy his way into a Shaolin temple. This is apparently enough for Caine to rouse himself and put paid to the Owls in short order.
"Crossties" is another political opus. Caine is stuck in the middle between a railroad company, policed by ruthless Pinkerton detectives, and a group of farmers displaced by the railroad, who have launched a series of destructive raids on the trains. The farmers, led by a man named Youngblood, are presented as entirely sympathetic, while the Pinkertons, led by the fanatical Edwards, have become so repressive that even the railroad professes doubts about their methods. (Harrison Ford has a small role as the railroad's representative, offering the possibility of amnesty for the farmers.) Edwards-- whom Youngblood tags as a man who "don't care about dyin'"-- seeks to destroy the farmers before this can happen, and that means destroying Caine as well. While Edwards is a lackluster villain, he does manage to force Caine to take a beating from his henchmen by threatening an innocent. The fight between Caine and the Pinkertons includes a scene in which Caine, after thrashing about six men, breaks through a barn door shut with a bar across it, another of his more superhuman feats.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
PHENOMENALITY: (1) *uncanny," (2,3)*naturalistic*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological, sociological*
LIke "The Soldier," "Empty Pages from a Dead Book" involves a man who's become a prisoner of parental influences, though "Pages" succeeds in evoking a deeper sense of human tragedy.
While walking toward the next town, Caine encounters a friendly fellow, Bart Fisher, and they exchange pleasantries. Along comes Texas Ranger Clyde McNelly, who holds a gun on Fisher, claiming that he's a wanted outlaw. Fisher proclaims his innocence but makes the mistake (he says) of reaching for his canteen. McNelly shoots Fisher in the arm, and then takes him into town for treatment before taking him back to Texas justice. Caine, though not really involved, tags along.
The local judge is not so sanguine about McNelly's crusade. Not only does he assert that the Ranger is out of his jurisdiction, the judge also pardoned Fisher for earlier crimes, meaning that McNelly shot a respectable citizen. McNelly protests that Fisher's name is written in the book of wanted criminals bequeathed to the Ranger by his late father, a list McNelly is determined to bring to justice. But McNelly's book cuts no ice with the judge, who takes away McNelly's badge.
Caine, the uninvolved bystander, listens as McNelly rants to him about his need to carry on his father's duties. Perhaps Caine, who barely knew his own father, is fascinated by the spectacle of man having submerged his entire identity into his father's mission. Fisher, despite having been exonerated, still resents having been shot, and he whips up a bunch of friends to beat down the former Ranger. Caine comes to the defense of the badly outnumbered victim, trouncing most of the men. One of the attackers, Fisher's brother, climbs up the side of the building, trying to recover a pistol flung up there by Caine. The brother falls and breaks his neck. At an inquest Fisher gives testimony to make it sound like Caine and McNelly caused his brother's death, so the judge orders them locked up for a trial. Caine, though he was willing to submit to an unjust sentence in "Alethia," decides not to stay, and performs one of his more superheroic feats by simply kicking open the metal door of the cell. He and McNelly flee justice, with much aggrieved talk from McNelly, who still considers himself an avatar of the law. A sheriff on horseback overtakes them. McNelly spooks the lawman;s horse, which results in the man being thrown and injured. For the first time McNelly knows what it means to be a fugitive getting in too deep, but he accedes to Caine's wish to take the hurt man back to town for medical attention. The judge decides that guilty men would never do this, and releases them. McNelly takes his leave of Caine, having realized that a slavish devotion to his father's legacy is no legacy worth leaving.
"Pages" is as good as any of the first-season episodes at conjuring the sense of human tragedy. Even Bart Fisher has a tragic moment, mourning the loss of his brother through his own actions. In contrast, "A Dream Within a Dream," despite good sets and a number of Hollywood heavies, is a rote mystery-story, that wouldn't have been out of place in a Charlie Chan movie.
Caine walks through a forest, and beholds a man hanging by the neck. Before the Shaolin can investigation, an unseen assailant shoots Caine. The bullet only grazes the priest's skull, and when he comes to, he's being cared for by Alex, the town's statue-maker (John Drew Barrymore). Caine tells Alex, and later other citizens of the town, what he saw in the forest. Caine's description of the hanged man matches that of the town's leading citizen. However, when the sheriff investigates the site, there's no sign of a body.
Numerous red herrings are trotted out, and Caine makes a stab at solving the mystery, even though he has no real reason to do so, beyond finding out who shot him. The solution is pretty contrived, and so are Caine's flashbacks, which at one point swipe from the Irish poet W.B. Years The episode does boast a strong performance from maverick actor Barrymore, whose family grew up alongside that of the Carradines, but "Dream" is otherwise unremarkable.
LIke "The Tong," we see the theme of Shaolin self-defense techniques perverted to criminal ends in "The Way of Violence Has No Mind." Caine's minding his own business in the wild, when a stagecoach comes along. The guards aboard the coach immediately accuse Caine of being part of a gang of desperadoes, because it's known (even though the bandits go around masked) are all Chinese men. Then the real bandits arrive, rob the stage, and liberate Caine from his accusers. The masks worn by the hold-up men don't really seem to serve any purpose except to surprise Caine when he learns that all of the men are of his own nationality. Caine also learns, before he takes his leave, that the leader, Captain Lee, was trained in the Shaolin arts by a renegade priest, and that he uses his skills to loot the white men who have been keeping his people down
Though initially Caine seems willing to let the bandits go their way, eventually he's drawn into conflict with them again, arguing that their way of violence "has no mind" and can only end badly. Most of Lee's men are willing to give themselves up to the law, but naturally Lee is not, and so he and Caine must fight. It's a well-staged battle, one of the few that Caine does not decisively win, making it possible for Lee to do the right thing on his own. It's a better episode than "Dream Within a Dream," but nothing special.
Monday, October 2, 2017
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *metaphysical, sociological*
"Is it not good for the body to do the best it can and so give pleasure to you for doing something well?"
"The Hoots" touches on one of the essential elements of the KUNG FU mythos: the opposition between religion's search for peace and the secular world's search for security, usually in the form of monetary acquisition. Caine's particular search is influenced by the practical side of the Taoist ethos: seeking an internal peace but capable of using violence either for self-defense or for the defense of others.
In this episode, Caine falls in with a group of Hutterites-- nicknamed "Hoots" by the people of the town neighboring the Hoots' sheep-ranch. The group's elder, Otto Schultz, is a symbolic father to his fellows, but his faith emphasizes extreme pacifism in the face of all threats. Caine learns that in the past the group has simply moved away whenever they faced any opposition, and that once again the Hutterites are in peril, as local cattle-ranchers seek to run them off their land. A younger Hutterite, Paul Klempt, hopes to reach out to the townsfolk and create a rapprochment, but he's met with callous indifference and assault. However, the willful assault gets the sheriff on the side of the Hoots, so that he begins increasing protection for the religious minority. Naturally, the nasty cattle-ranchers won't give up that easily, and Caine ends up defending the men who won't defend themselves.
In the end, it's made clear that Schultz's extreme refusal of violence wreaks a sort of violence upon his own flock, and that he has over the years become addicted to suffering. The quote above arises when Schultz objects to Caine singing a work-song as he labors on the ranch, for Schultz that it is suffering that ennobles work. Caine makes it clear to the audience, if not all of the Hutterites, that it's more important to live life to its fullest.
"The Elixir" addresses the problem of being caught up in one's desires, even for those who seek to manipulate the desire of others. At the same time Caine arrives in a small town, so does a medicine-show wagon run by two partners: hunchbacked Niebo, who serves as the salesman for a worthless elixit, and beauteous Theodora, who performs an exotic dance in order to entice customers. However, the local louts want to see a few more veils dropped, so Caine intervenes. The sheriff runs them all out of town,
Theodora is the boss of the operation, in large part because Niebo is hopelessly in love with her. The young woman has no compunctions against selling a false elixir made out of river-water and leaves, and explains to Caine that as a woman she must do whatever she can to get ahead in a man's world. In addition, she isn't giving Caine a lift purely out of charity. Theodora has in the past used her beauty to enthrall men, but one of her ex-suitors, Grogan, has been pursuing the wagon for some time. Theodora hopes to draft Caine as a protector.
It's plain that even though Theodora talks a good game about the importance of freedom, she doesn't see it as a two-way street. "She wants only to have her freedom," says Niebo to Caine, "and I only want to be her slave." Although Caine does obligingly defend Theodora from Grogan, he changes her life by making her realize that she has feelings for her assistant that go beyond her own benefit. One of the wisdom-nuggets from the flashback is the admonition to "bind yourself to nothing, seek harmony in all," which sums up the theme of the episode.
"The Gunman" doesn't directly concern itself with the topic of war. But there's a hint of an anti-war sentiment when the title character, a gunfighter named White, states that his "edge" comes from his ability to divorce himself from the violence he wreaks: "I don't see people when I shoot." Once again, with very little justification, Caine becomes involved with White's problems, as the wanted man travels to the home of widow Nedra, who was married to a late friend of White's. White and Nedra begin to fall for one another, but Nedra also has an unwanted suitor hanging around. Caine is not able to prevent the man's death, though his belief in the sanctity of life encourages him to tell White not to kill the scuzzy bounty hunter on his trail. White is so influenced by Caine's ethics that when a posse comes to apprehend him, he "loses his edge," and dies. It's a weak episode, though boosted somewhat by Young Caine's exchange with Master Po. In this, Caine is confused about the idea of love being non-conditional, and Po sardonically comments, "Do you seek love, or barter?"
Thursday, September 28, 2017
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*
TERROR OF THE TONGS is reputedly a remake of Hammer's STRANGLERS OF BOMBAY, which I have not seen, and which concerned the Thuggee in British India rather than the Tong organization in British Hong Kong circa 1910. The film's main significance to metaphenomenal film-fans is that, though TERROR is not a metaphenomenal film itself, it anticipates British actor Christopher Lee's "yellowface" performance as Fu Manchu, beginning with 1965's THE FACE OF FU MANCHU. Lee's villain here may have been loosely influenced by the example of Fu Manchu in various media, but he lacks the devil-doctor's formidable character, and suffers from a risible name that just happens to be the same as that of several modern restaurants: "Chung King."
The film opens by illustrating the Tong's power in Hong Kong, which local police and civic organizations are powerless to combat. The Tong men usually keep their activities of vice and drug-smuggling confined to their fellow Asians, but two of Chung King's men make the mistake of killing the daughter of a prominent, two-fisted British seaman, Captain Sale. Sale then rushes from pillar to post like an early version of TAKEN's Liam Neeson, seeking to find his daughter's murderers, and the Tong proves incompetent to kill him. Eventually Chung King's men manage to take Sale prisoner, which leads to the film's one memorable line, "Have you ever had your bones scraped, Captain?" Sure enough, Chung King's torturer demonstrates the technique of inserting a blade into Sale's flesh in order to affect the bone beneath. Sale only survives because an agent opposed to the Tong-- one of the civic organizations I mentioned-- saves his life. Eventually there's a public confrontation between
Sale and a Tong killer, and Sale's victory backfires on Chung King's organization, as the tyrannized populace storms the Tong HQ and the villain commits suicide, thus avenging Sale's daughter.
The script by Jimmy Sangster is reasonably tight, and though most of the Asians are played by British actors, there's a saving grace in the fact that the only reason Sale makes so much progress is because he's given covert aid by the anti-Tong group. Thus, this isn't entirely a "white savior" film, but one in which he acts more as a catalyst to help the Chinese people save themselves. On the minus side, a hot young Chinese woman named Lee attaches herself to Sale, and it's implied that she gives him some romantic recompense for helping free her from her Tong slavemaster. There's no romance as such between the characters of Lee and Sale, and it may be fairly argued that Lee is just a standard "hot Asian babe" fantasy. I don't always object to such fantasies, but here its presence highlights the superficiality of the characters.
The Tong registers as a "weird society," and their one use of torture-- later quoted in 1986's ARMED RESPONSE-- qualifies as a "bizarre crime." But both of these are entirely naturalistic in tone.