Jeff Bernstein

laughter curdles to terror Halloween (1978), 1:06:18. Michael Myers appears to Lynda in the doorway as a ghost. “Cute, Bob,” she says. “Real cute.” She laughs. Standing before her is the traditional homey Halloween bedsheet perforated with eyeholes. Costumed in this disguise Myers stands mute. Smiling, Lynda enjoys his regard. Thirty seconds on, she’s creeped out by his moveless silence. Thirty seconds after that, he strangles the life out of her. the classic gambit of “overhearing” PT, 1:50:40. Alma, standing behind an unwitting Woodcock, overhears him reveal his secret thoughts to Cyril. Scroob once detailed this technique as a classic romantic comedy gambit, and cited its use as the climax of an uplifting Betty Grable war picture, Pin Up Girl (1944). * 3.2 of The Duchess of Malfi fuses these two technical elements together as one Situation. Thus storyteller Webster engineers a Colossal Dramatic Moment of fear and suspense. Nancy Allen might have played this scene to perfection in an alternate-world Dressed to Kill. 3.2 begins as an easy-going domestic scene of husband and wife enjoying an evening together. They trade sweet nothings, kiss, chat comfortably of love. The Duchess’ faithful maid, Cariola, is invited to comb her ladyship’s hair. (“When were we so merry?” the Duchess asks. “My hair tangles.”) Life is presently so happy for husband Antonio that he whispers to Cariola in merry mischief : Pray thee, Cariola, let’s steal forth the room And let her talk to herself. I have divers times Serv’d her the like, when she hath chafed extremely: I love to see her angry. Softly, Cariola. [ Exeunt Antonio and Cariola ] The two conspirators tiptoe out of the Duchess’ bedroom while she continues to gush cheerfully, either with eyes closed or otherwise distracted. Duchess. Doth not the colour of my hair ’gin to change? When I wax gray, I shall have all the court Powder their hair with arras, to be like me. You have cause to love me; I ent’red you into my heart Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys. [ Enter Ferdinand, unseen ] Ah! Recall, Reader, the dark Bates blur in the shower curtain. . . . Shocking is the sudden appearance of insane enemy Ferdinand, who the audience knows has bloody murder on his mind. Suspense rises as the Duchess continues to babble, blithely unaware, even speaking of the threat to Antonio’s life, as she knows her brother Ferdinand is “now in court”. She speaks of the danger using the extreme conversational. Hence the surprise she experiences when discovering Ferdinand behind her should be consummate : We shall one day have my brothers take you napping: Methinks his presence, being now in court, Should make you keep your own bed.—But, you’ll say, Love mix’d with fear is sweetest.—I’ll assure you, You shall get no more children till my brothers Consent to be your gossips.—Have you lost your tongue? [ She looks in the mirror and sees Ferdinand behind her ] Sudden silence. What a moment! The proverbial pin drop. Scroob recalls Norman Mailer’s Tough Guys Don’t Dance : “Some interruptions are too profound to disturb your composure.” The Duchess speaks : ’Tis welcome: For know, whether I am doom’d to live or die, I can do both like a prince. Ferdinand. Die, then, quickly! * * * Antonio. Heaven fashioned us of nothing, and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing. 3.5.82–3 Duchess. I account this world a tedious theatre, For I do play a part in ’t ’gainst my will. 4.1.84–5 * * * An incest theme in The Duchess of Malfi? Webster is a master of the Indirect and Unstated. * * * Flamineo. Why should ladies blush to hear that nam’d, which they do not fear to handle? White Devil, 1.2.19–20 Domino. I’d rather not put it into words. EWS, 50:33 * * * 4.2. Before the Duchess is strangled, she thinks of her children. Facing the end, she has the calm poise of, say, Pacino removing his necklace in Donnie Brasco. I pray thee, look thou giv’st my little boy Some syrup for his cold, and let the girl Say her prayers, ere she sleep.

Suddenly Deadly Serious For the first 340 lines of Duchess of Malfi—a considerable duration of stage-time—the vibe within the palace chamber bustles with gossip and grandstanding, idle conspiracy and humor. Storyteller Webster then deploys a KYD TONE SHIFT. A racy vignette sets up the Situation : Ferdinand. Fare ye well— And women like that part which, like the lamprey, Hath ne’er a bone in ’t. Duchess. Fie, sir! Ferdinand. Nay, I mean the tongue . . . [ exit ] Humorous—then, Suddenly Deadly Serious. The Duchess contemplates Ferdinand’s “hate” of the idea of her remarriage. She reveals to us clear plans for wedlock anyway. Marrying for love—a Situation which leads ultimately, a couple of hours hence, to mayhem and her horrible death : Duchess. And even now, Even in this hate, as men in some great battles, By apprehending danger, have achiev’d Almost impossible actions (I have heard soldiers say so), So I through frights and threatnings will assay This dangerous venture. Within a hell of Inhumans, the Duchess attempts a heroic act of humanness—Marrying for love. * btw, a soldier accomplishing a seemingly impossible action in battle is described in Mailer, An American Dream, ch1. Mailer. Years later I read Zen in the Art of Archery and understood the book. Because I did not throw the grenades on that night on the hill under the moon, it threw them, and it did a near-perfect job. * “Butterflies” Antonio. [ musing ] O, ’tis far from me—and yet fear presents me Somewhat that looks like danger. (Duchess of Malfi, 2.3.74–5) Woodcock. I have an unsettled feeling, based on nothing I can put my finger on. (9:53) * Scrooby Q : Is the KYD TONE SHIFT—The Spanish Tragedy, 2.4—the most consequential moment in English theatre history?

Comic relief Tilda. I’m amazed you have the energy. Clooney. You kidding? Pull around the corner and we’ll do it in the back. Tilda. You’re so coarse. Clooney. No. Back of the car, not a rear entry situation. Burn After Reading, 58:48 * Ferdinand, promoting chastity in his sexually-available sister, offers her some obnoxious advice she hears as wordplay on os priapi— Ferdinand. Fare ye well— And [ remember, ] women like that part which, like the lamprey [ fish ] , Hath ne’er a bone in ’t. Duchess. Fie, sir! Ferdinand. Nay, I mean the tongue . . . What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale Make a woman believe? Duchess of Malfi, 1.1.335–40

dreamgirl of vengeance A long time ago, a young woman brimful of promise, a beautiful and talented girl, was butchered, and left alive. But what of Lavinia in Act 4? 4.1 opens on a quiet domestic scene, the peace of Titus’ garden. Imagine sunshine, fruit trees, birdsong, rich vines, a trellis. [ Enter Lucius’ son and Lavinia running after him, and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm. ] 4.1 opens with the delicacy of a daydream. Imagine the mystic vibe of Picnic at Hanging Rock or The Virgin Suicides—a sunshiny aura of creepy enchantment. [ Enter Lucius’ son and Lavinia running after him ] Are we seeing a ghost of once-Lavinia, the sweetest Lavinia innocent of harm? —Running in from out of the past, whole and lovely, her beautiful voice intact, still full of grace and promise. What poignancy—Make do with what you got. What pathos—The suffering angel endures. What heartache—Paradise lost. [ Enter Lucius’ son and Lavinia running after him ] In this De Palma Obsession-like Zsigmondian soft-focus dreamplace, it looks for all the world as if Lavinia is playing happily with her younger nephew. It’s as if, after everything that’s happened to her, Lavinia has still not lost her essential innocence. * Das Unheimliche See the mangled girl happily play!—The perverse, feeling right at home. As she runs, does she give the audience chills? * Stories move quickly in Shakespearean-era drama. Idle day turns to tense revelation—leading to conspiracy, and, eventually, to revenge— because Lavinia gets her story out. First she appeals to a book. Her father Titus contemplates the page she identifies for him, and immediately understands his daughter’s purpose : Ovid, μεταμορφώσεις, 6.549–62 Talibus ira feri postquam commota tyranni nec minor hac metus est, causa stimulatus utraque quo fuit accinctus, vagina liberat ensem arreptamque coma flexis post terga lacertis vincla pati cogit. Iugulum Philomela parabat spemque suae mortis viso conceperat ense: ille indignantem et nomen patris usque vocantem luctantemque loqui comprensam forcipe linguam abstulit ense fero. Radix micat ultima linguae, ipsa iacet terraeque tremens inmurmurat atrae; utque salire solet mutilatae cauda colubrae, palpitat et moriens dominae vestigia quaerit. Hoc quoque post facinus (vix ausim credere) fertur saepe sua lacerum repetisse libidine corpus. The tyrant’s awful anger was provoked by her words, and also his fear of them. Enragéd by these reasons, he reached out and drew his sword and seized her by the hair and bent her arms behind her back and bound them. When she saw the sword, Philomela offered her throat in the hope that he would kill her. She called out the name of her father and struggled madly to speak, right up until the moment her tongue was caught in pincers and cut away with his merciless blade. The trimmed root fluttered in her mouth, while her tongue lay in the dirt, quivering there and darkly murmuring. Just as a severed tail of a serpent is seen to vibrate, so the tongue twitched, and with its last quiver touched its lady’s foot. Then after this crime (one would scarce dare to believe it) the man worked his lustful will over and over and over upon the mangled body. [ Lavinia takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps and writes in the dirt. ]

Two early psychopaths in English Literature Titus. What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues Plot some device of further misery To make us wonder’d at in time to come. Clever vile principals such as Richard III and Iago scorn to get their hands dirty, preferring behind-the-scenes manipulation to engineer their criminal ends. Apparently the first “hands-on” Chigurhic psychopathic principal in English Literature is Aaron the Moor in Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. Aaron. I have done one thousand dreadful things as willingly as one would kill a fly, and nothing grieves me heartily indeed but that I cannot do ten thousand more. Thus speaks a brutal conspirator and murderer, cruelly mocking and nonchalant in his evil. Anton. I wouldn’t worry about it. * * * Lodovico in The White Devil is English Literature’s second full-blown, bloody-handed, nonchalant psychopath. In 1.1, he faces banishment from Rome due to his many offences including bloody murder, and to his enemies he vows reprisal. I’ll make Italian cut-works in their guts If ever I return. By “cut-works” Lodovico promises to use his sword to carve out elaborate lacelike wounds in human bodies of his choosing. Gasparo. Oh, sir. Lodovico. I am patient. (“The truly vindictive are as patient as saints.”) I have seen some ready to be executed, Give pleasant looks, and money, and grown familiar With the knave hangman: so do I. I thank them, “I don’t care if I live or die,” Lodovico is saying. “I thank them [for their hassle]”—recalling the bleak bravado of “Go ahead and shoot, you’ll be doing me a favor.” And would account them nobly merciful, Would they dispatch me quickly— Nihilist doublespeak—“dispatch” : (2) Let them kill me when they will. Lodovico is smart—not the smartest of the principals of The White Devil, but smart enough to invade enemy lines and wage a successful campaign of terror. Yet in the end he’s not smart enough to elude heavy physical penalty for his deeds. Even so he pronounces himself satisfied. Why? He left a series of corpses in his wake. For some, Revenge is worth the punishment. * * * In his first dialogue scene of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, Aaron offers the following advice to two men : You two are in love with a young woman? Why chase her? Just rape her. That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may. Later, Aaron explains how much he hates Rome : Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. The thought of mayhem sexually excites some conspirators;—the more grotesque the crime, the hotter the feeling? Aaron. This is the day of doom for Bassianus; His Philomel must lose her tongue today, Thy sons make pillage of her chastity, And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood. Tamora. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! Aaron. No more, great empress. Bassianus comes. No Hays Code back in Shakespeare's era; so—Aaron, facing his end : Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things As willingly as one would kill a fly; And nothing grieves me heartily indeed But that I cannot do ten thousand more. Similar to indomitable Tuco in The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, Aaron does not go gentle into that good night : Aaron. If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell But to torment you with my bitter tongue! Lucius. Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. And Aaron’s last word in the play? If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul. * * * Titus Andronicus appeared soon after The Spanish Tragedy. Apparently it was Kyd’s play that featured the first colossally shocking moment on the English stage. Scene 2.4— Horatio. What, will you murder me? The answer? Lorenzo. Ay, thus, and thus! These are the fruits of love. Witnessing this, Horatio’s sweetheart Bel-imperia turns hysterical—hysterical panic appears also in White Devil, 5.2, and Titus, 2.3 : O, save his life and let me die for him! O, save him, brother, save him, Balthazar! I loved Horatio, but he loved not me! Murder! Murder! Help, Hieronimo, help! Yes—Lorenzo the knifeman is her brother. Kyd’s box-office success spawned an entire genre (similar to the flood of Tarantino clones after Pulp). In Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare attempts to outdo the traumatic horror of The Spanish Tragedy. Example : Chiron. Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. Come, Mistress, now perforce we will enjoy That nice-preservéd honesty of yours. And their mother’s blessing to her evil sons? Tamora. Therefore away with her, and use her as you will; The worse to her, the better lov’d of me. In Titus Andronicus Shakespeare indeed outdoes the horror of The Spanish Tragedy, yet Kyd’s abrupt tone-shift (Romeo and Juliet to A Clockwork Orange) remains Triumphant as a foremost structural wonder, a magnitudinous moment in technics. Well-alert to Kyd’s genius, Shakespeare engineers his own broad tone-shift in Titus;—he shows us the spectacular horror of a freshly-raped Lavinia bleeding with sliced-off hands and cut-out tongue, and cuts to the Tarantino absurdity of three men squabbling for forty-odd lines over which one shall willingly chop off his hand as a ransom to be sent to the king. * * * In Titus Andronicus, a sort-of Roman History play with elements of revenge tragedy, Shakespeare gave the audience what it wanted—the Elizabethan version of Noe&Haneke horror. Long ago Scroob remarked that Sophocles is punishing the audience with Art in Οἰδίπους Τύραννος, 1237–84. Similarly, Shakespeare ensures to keep delicate Lavinia’s mangled presence onstage for much of the rest of the play, a Situation possibly as unbearable to the original audiences as the nine-minute horror in the underpass in Irreversible. Scrooby theory : The audience screams elicited by both The Spanish Tragedy 2.4 (Horatio murder) and Titus Andronicus 2.4 (Lavinia reveal) are prototypes for the final audience scream of Silence of the Lambs. Shakespeare is far from done. Example—5.2 : Titus. Hark, wretches! how I mean to martyr you. This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold The basin that receives your guilty blood. And remember, kind reader, Atreus feeding his brother’s two sons to his hungry brother . . . ? Why might the audience bear to sit watching the horrible scenes of Titus? One reason : Noe&Haneke horror is not fantasy—it’s real and everyday, as Vittoria in The White Devil exclaims, near the end of her life : Vittoria. Oh me! This place is hell! * Caligula 32. Animum quoque remittenti ludoque et epulis dedito eadem factorum dictorumque saeuitia aderat. saepe in conspectu prandentis uel comisantis seriae quaestiones per tormenta habebantur, miles decollandi artifex quibuscumque e custodia capita amputabat. On ordinary days, while he was lunching he’d have prisoners decapitated in his presence.

Bittersweet perversity In innumerous Hollywood films from the earliest days to now, the “spark and fire” of love (Hamlet, 4.7.129) often leads to climactic happiness and an uplifting end-credit track. One of the fine users of Quora explains for us : “You are simply attracted to a person or you’re not.” As Juliet explains, true love is out of one’s control : My only love sprung from my only hate, Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love is it to me That I must love a loathéd enemy. (1.3.152-5) * WARNING : In the skewed world of Shakespearean-era revenge tragedies, uncontrollable love—simple attraction, the prodigious birth of what the heart says—often ends in disaster. * The White Devil Vittoria. I do protest, if any chaste denial, If anything but blood could have allay’d His long suit to me— (1.2.284–6) Vittoria explains to her mother that her forbidden love for the Duke is out of her reasonable control, and only her death could have stopped her attraction; thus her infidelity is justified by the immutable laws of Mother Nature. Alas, Vittoria’s attraction leads to her ultimate end—a sword runs through her. With her last breath, she reflects : Vittoria. Oh, my greatest sin lay in my blood! Now my blood pays for ’t. (5.6.240–1) Unfortunately, this being The White Devil, her death gets worse for her—Vittoria expires in a hell of psychological torture : Vittoria. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. (5.6.248–9) * The Revenger’s Tragedy The devil-may-care character of Junior Brother ravishes a married woman in an especially vile and violent manner, but his explanation of why he did the deed is remarkably untroubled and relaxed—the young man simply tells the simple truth as he sees it : Second Judge. What mov’d you to’t? Junior. Why, flesh and blood, my lord. What should move men unto a woman else? (1.2.47–8) Junior’s last words before facing capital punishment are perversely mock-heroic— My fault was sweet sport, which the world approves; I die for that which every woman loves. (3.4.81–2) * In Shakespearean-era revenge tragedies, beware of love. Nature leads to disaster.

The Oppenheimer (2023) phenomenon Narrative art shows us human behaviour in action. Audiences have witnessed beastly activity onscreen for over one hundred years—and have enjoyed fabricated stories of earthly depravity for millennia—yet collective society hasn’t turned one whit better for all the stories that have ever been told. Evidence : the year 2024. * * * Cinema audiences see human beings acting as horrible as themselves for about two hours or so, yet subsequently fail to change their behaviour for the better. Example : Blackett. Christ, Oppenheimer. Have you had any sleep? (4:02) The professor is in a position of authority. Shouldn’t he comport himself as an exemplar of a gentleman, since his students, consciously or unconsciously, absorb his poise as guides for their own moral and ethical positions? Blackett reveals himself as an imbecilic bully. Relatable? And since arrogance unsees one’s own weakness, he’s ripe pickings for picking off. * Yes, audiences witness human beings acting as horrible as themselves for about two hours or so, then leave the cinema and continue to act horrible to one another. But as RDJ rightly said : “What we do matters.” Why? Because of the rare individual who makes it matter. * * * Caligula 29. immanissima facta augebat atrocitate uerborum. nihil magis in natura sua laudare se ac probare dicebat quam, ut ipsius uerbo utar, ἀδιατρεψίαν, hoc est inuerecundiam. monenti Antoniae auiae tamquam parum esset non oboedire: 'memento,' ait, 'omnia mihi et in omnis licere.' To his monstrous exploits Caligula added atrocious speech. “In my nature I praise and approve nothing so much,” he said, “as my shamelessness.” When his grandmother Antonia cautioned him on his behaviour, he couldn’t help but respond : “I can do anything I want to anybody.”

Seneca, Octavia qui si senescit, tantus in caecum chaos casurus iterum: tunc adest mundo dies supremus ille, qui premat genus impium caeli ruina (391–4) The vast Everything ages, and is doomed to collapse back into blind chaos; and all the wicked on that final day shall be crushed under the falling sky.

Aeneid Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram; multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem, inferretque deos Latio, genus unde Latinum, Albanique patres, atque altae moenia Romae. These four words, united in the concept of the genus (“the people”), are placed by the poet in the first stanza of his epic (which begins with the letter “A”), in the shape of a triangle. * saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram cruel Juno’s patient wrath Kitty. The truly vindictive are as patient as saints. (Oppenheimer, p154) * * * Caligula 33. quotiens uxoris uel amiculae collum exoscularetur, addebat: “tam bona ceruix simul ac iussero demetur” Whenever he kissed the neck of his wife or lover, he’d say : “Off comes this lovely head whenever I say the word.” 34. cogitauit etiam de Homeri carminibus abolendis He contemplated destroying the songs of Homer 55. Incitato equo, cuius causa pridie circenses, ne inquietaretur, uiciniae silentium per milites indicere solebat So that his horse might not be disturbed, he would send out soldiers to enforce a silence in the neighborhood.

Feeling the heat The celebrated scene in Heat (1995) in which De Niro and Pacino chat together in a restaurant—two sworn antagonists sharing a comfortable time—has an antecedent in 3.3 of The White Devil. Marcello. [ aside ] Mark this strange encounter. And with this prompt to the audience, right in the middle of the play : Lodovico and Flamineo—nihilist urban psycho on one side, and clever naive conspirator on the other—join together in conversation (“housekeeping”) for sixty-odd lines. Lodovico. Shalt thou and I join housekeeping? Flamineo. Yes, content: Let’s be unsociably sociable. It is a highly-charged interaction. Each knows the other is no good. Neither trusts the other. Lodovico. [ aside ] . . . ’tis strange. . . . I must wind him. Flamineo [ aside ] . . . There’s somewhat in’t. Compounding the Situation, Flamineo is feigning madness—yes, Hamlet—in order to dodge the Law. Remember? Flamineo. [ aside ] I do put on this feigned garb of mirth, To gull suspicion. That was back at 3.1.29–30. Now the Kind Reader enjoys interactive fun in deciding where in the dialogue with Lodovico does Flamineo suddenly become deadly serious? (A literary prototype of a speaker becoming Suddenly Deadly Serious : Cassandra in Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, 1178.) (Amadeus—“My music. They’ve started without me.” 19:49) Lodovico ends up killing Flamineo in 5.6, so Flamineo’s verbal bravado in 3.3 is misguided and ludicrous, similar to Moss’ swagger with Anton over the telephone (“I’ve decided to make you a special project of mine.” 1:25:52). Example : Lodovico. Your sister is a damnable whore. Flamineo. Ha! Lodovico. Look you; I spake that laughing. Flamineo. Dost ever think to speak again? The interaction escalates. Hot-headed Flamineo, motivated by a misplaced confidence in his strength, strikes Lodovico. This rash act of violence comes back to haunt him. Just here, however, Flamineo departs safe in his confidence, while creepy Lodovico reflects— Lodovico. These rogues that are most weary of their lives Still ’scape the greatest dangers.

Spielberg’s War of the Worlds (31:54–34:31).

Psychedelic Wormhole The sordid domestic sex comedy of 1.2 is followed by 2.1, an elaborate Situation featuring a husband and wife bedroom scene—a portrait of a quarrelsome marriage-hell that Ingmar Bergman might have filmed alongside episode five of Scenes from a Marriage. What follows this harrowing domestic dispute? [ Enter Bracciano, with one in the habit of a conjurer ] What? A supernatural scene? Conjurer. Pray sit down; Put on this nightcap, sir, ’tis charmed; and now I’ll show you by my strong commanding art The circumstance that breaks your duchess’ heart. . . . Strike louder, music, from this charmed ground, To yield, as fits the act, a tragic sound! At first the Conjurer strikes a mystic note evocative of, say, A Midsummer Night’s Dream—a magical vibe of charmed enchantment. Oberon. And then I will her charmed eye release From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace. However, we soon discover that the vibe here is actually closer to Macbeth— First witch. Swelter’d venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot. In 2.2, conjury and magic appear as “special guest stars” in The White Devil. Just how many stage conventions are integrated into Webster’s play? Just as a Tarantino movie is stuffed with film references, so, too, is The White Devil engineered with similar theatrical aplomb. Polonius. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral . . . * What magic is conjured in 2.2? At the hour of “dead midnight”, Bracciano sees though a wormhole-like eruption in spacetime and witnesses two murders, as if present there—or as if he were watching a movie of them. It’s as if one sole supernatural scene exists in, say, All the President’s Men, as a matter of course. * Bracciano peeks psychedelically into the ingenious death of his “loathed duchess”— Bracciano. Excellent, then she’s dead! Conjurer. She’s poisoned By the fumed picture. ’Twas her custom nightly, Before she went to bed, to go and visit Your picture, and to feed her eyes and lips On the dead shadow. Doctor Julio, Observing this, infects it with an oil, And other poison’d stuff, which presently Did suffocate her spirits. * So steeped in corruption is The White Devil that even the peripheral character of the Conjurer is not immune to the play’s world-sickness, as his opening words reveal : You have won me by your bounty to a deed I do not often practise. * A Shakespearean-era in-joke? Is the Conjurer a surrogate for storyteller John Webster? Bracciano. Now, sir, I claim your promise: ’tis dead midnight, The time prefix’d to show me by your art, How the intended murder of Camillo, And our loath’d duchess grow to action. . . . Conjurer. Strike louder, music, from this charmed ground, To yield, as fits the act, a tragic sound! As it happens, the Conjurer is one of the very few characters in the play who gets out alive, miraculously unscathed. After 2.2, he is, to his everlasting good fortune, never seen again. * Please recall the technics of the ancient playwrights—they had no care for divisions into acts and scenes. Events occur dreamlike. And so it is with John Webster’s The White Devil. Locations, too—Webster, like the ancients, never lets us know in a stage direction where the action is taking place. W. W. Grieg, a finely studious individual : The total duration of the action could not be less than about three weeks. . . . The above analysis is of no more value than such tables usually are, for the reason that, in common with most of the dramatists of his day, the author shows a contemptuous indifference to the minutiae of time and space. Walter Wilson Grieg, “Webster’s White Devil : An Essay in Formal Criticism”, Modern Language Quarterly 3, 2 (December 1900), 112–26. Grieg fails to link this “contemptuous indifference” to the technics of the ancient authors, however; curiously, though, in the following paragraph he mentions Euripides’ Electra. * χαίρειν δ᾽ ὅστις δύναται καὶ ξυντυχίᾳ μή τινι κάμνει θνητῶν, εὐδαίμονα πράσσει. A mortal whose good luck meets with no disaster is blessed.

Agrippina’s poison mushrooms Adeoque cuncta mox pernotuere ut temporum illorum scriptores prodiderint infusum delectabili boleto venenum, nec vim medicaminis statim intellectam, socordiane an Claudii vinolentia. (Tacitus, Annals, 12.67.1) Et veneno quidem occisum convenit; ubi autem et per quem dato, discrepat. Quidam tradunt epulanti in arce cum sacerdotibus per Halotum spadonem praegustatorem; alii domestico convivio per ipsam Agrippinam, quae boletum medicatum auidissimo ciborum talium optulerat. (Suetonius, “Life of Claudius”, 44.2) * (Suetonius, “Life of Caligula”, 24.1) Cum omnibus sororibus suis consuetudinem stupri fecit plenoque convivio singulas infra se vicissim conlocabat uxore supra cubante. He had a habit of defiling all of his sisters, at parties, putting one at a time under him, while his wife reclined above them. * Friar. Why, foolish madman! Giovianni. Shall a foolish sound, A customary form, from man to man, of brother and sister, be a bar ’Twixt my perpetual happiness and me? (Ford, ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore, 1.1.24–7) Giovanni. Come, Annabella, no more sister now But love, a name more gracious. Do not blush . . . (2.1.1–2) * Nos e tanto visi populo digni premeret quos everso cardine mundus? in nos aetas ultima venit? o nos dura sorte creatos, seu perdidimus solum miseri, sive expulimus! abeant questus, discedo, timor: vitae est avidus quisquis non vult mundo secum pereunte mori. (Seneca, Thyestes, 875–884) Of all the people to exist, is it fitting that we are to be destroyed, overthrown by the knot of power? We were born with a heavy fate, whether we destroyed ourselves, or were destroyed. No laments! Abandon fear! Who would wish to live when the world itself is dying away? * Roman houses caught fire frequently. . . . The wealthy Crassus in the last century of the republic devised a scheme for increasing his immense fortune by exploiting these catastrophes. On hearing the news of an outbreak, he would run to the scene of the disaster and offer profuse sympathy to the owner, plunged in despair by the sudden destruction of his property. Then he would offer to buy on the spot at a sum far below its real value the parcel of ground, now nothing but a mass of smouldering ruins. Thereupon, employing one of the teams of builders whose training he had himself superintended, he erected a brand new insula, the income from which amply rewarded him for his capital outlay. Jérôme Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome (Bertelsmann, 1941), 44. cf. (Plutarch, “Life of Crassus”, 2.4) πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ὁρῶν τὰς συγγενεῖς καὶ συνοίκους τῆς Ῥώμης κῆρας ἐμπρησμοὺς καὶ συνιζήσεις διὰ βάρος καὶ πλῆθος οἰκοδομημάτων, ἐωνεῖτο δούλους ἀρχιτέκτονας καὶ οἰκοδόμους, εἶτ᾽ ἔχων τούτους ὑπὲρ πεντακοσίους ὄντας, ἐξηγόραζε τὰ καιόμενα καὶ γειτνιῶντα τοῖς καιομένοις, διὰ φόβον καὶ ἀδηλότητα τῶν δεσποτῶν ἀπ᾽ ὀλίγης τιμῆς προϊεμένων, ὥστε τῆς Ῥώμης τὸ πλεῖστον μέρος ὑπ᾽ αὐτῷ γενέσθαι, . . . In this way Crassus came to possess the largest part of Rome. * Satelles. Fama te populi nihil adversa terret? Atreus. Maximum hoc regni bonum est, quod facta domini cogitur populus sui tam ferre quam laudare. (Seneca, Thyestes, 204–7) Assistant. You don’t fear unfavorable talk among the people? Atreus. That’s the greatest good of power—the people are obliged to endure as well as praise me, their master. * The Heroic Perverse At the end of White Devil, Lodovico faces capital torture; and after all of his many depredations, the psycho hits a heroic note! Lodovico. I do glory yet, That I can call this act mine own. For my part, The rack, the gallows, and the torturing wheel Shall be but sound sleeps to me. Here’s my rest: I limn’d this night-piece, and it was my best. (5.6.294-297) cf. Vindice facing capital punishment at the end of The Revenger’s Tragedy : Vindice. I’faith, We’re well . . . We die after a nest of dukes. Adieu. (5.3.107-125) Long before Webster and Middleton . . . The cheerfully hysterically insane Atreus has just fed his brother’s two children to, oops, his brother, Thyestes. . . . Atreus. Sceleri modus debetur ubi facias scelus, non ubi reponas. hoc quoque exiguum est mihi. Crime has a limit, but not its requital. Even this is too little for me! 1052–1068; and what he goes on to say is horrible and triumphant—the Heroic Perverse.

Evolvement In 1.1, a very bad man is introduced, Lodovico, and he mentions, in passing, the Duke of Bracciano and his mistress— This in passing recalls Chance the gardener watching the U.S. President gladhanding on TV (11:52), only to later find himself shaking the President’s hand, in Rand’s library (1:00:15). [ which recalls Isabella. My jealousy? I am to learn what that Italian means. White Devil, 2.1.160–1 Chance. There is no need for a claim. I don’t even know what they look like. Being There, 36:38 ] The appearance of amoral murderous nihilist Lodovico at the outset of The White Devil is equivalent to the opening sequence of Halloween (1978) : the introduction of a highly dangerous character in a “sealed-off” way structurally. Halloween then enters a present-day suburbia unaware of the coming threat. 1.2. A domestic comedy / a sex comedy. The Duke of Bracciano enters the house of his assistant, the social-climbing Flamineo, who hopes to whore out his sister Vittoria in hopes of wealth and self-advancement. As perverse as the Situation is, the play’s tone is, as yet, comic; and rings well-nigh Monty Pythonic while Flamineo expends much verbal effort in persuading his sister’s husband not to sleep with his wife that night. However, hanging over the humorous tone (perverse as it is) is nihilist urban psycho Lodovico, like Bad Fate. No matter what these characters think they are, they’re no match for psycho Lodovico. In Act 5, he kills all three principals of 1.2. By wacky Act 5, the perversity of 1.2—a brother pimping out his sister—is now a throwback to a naive, quaint time. * Stephen King’s Pet Sematary offers an unwittingly fine general description of the structure of The White Devil : It’s probably wrong to believe there can be any limit to the horror which the human mind can experience. On the contrary, it seems that some exponential effect begins to obtain as deeper and deeper darkness falls—as little as we may like to admit it, human experience tends, in a good many ways, to support the idea that when the nightmare grows black enough, horror spawns horror, that one coincidental evil begets other, often more deliberate, evils, until finally blackness seems to cover everything. And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity. That such events have their own Rube Goldberg absurdity goes almost without saying. At some point, it all starts to become rather funny. That may be the point at which sanity begins to either save itself or to buckle and break down; that point when one’s sense of humor begins to resurface. * I recover like a spent taper, for a flash, And instantly go out. Let all that belong to great men remember th’ old wives’ tradition: to be like the lions i’ th’ Tower on Candlemas day, to mourn if the sun shine, for fear of the pitiful remainder of winter to come. ’Tis well yet there ’s some goodness in my death, My life was a black charnel. I have caught An everlasting cold; I have lost my voice Most irrecoverably. Farewell, glorious villains. This busy trade of life appears most vain, Since rest breeds rest, where all seek pain by pain. Let no harsh flattering bells resound my knell; Strike, thunder, and strike loud, to my farewell! [ Dies ] Flamineo’s last word— Strike, thunder, and strike loud to my farewell! is an appeal to the audience to erupt in applause—a common technique, we have seen, in Shakespearean-era plays; and The White Devil is, as it were, an “ultimate compendium” (as far as it goes) of Shakespearean-era plays. * Henry James Positive-Negative Statement Flamineo. ’Tis well yet there ’s some goodness in my death

Engineering character Flamineo is the only character in The White Devil whose speech repeatedly slips into blocks of prose. His loquaciousness can be extensive. The exuberant conspirator “loves the sound of his own voice”. 2. Flamineo’s been running off at the mouth for the entire play. But at the end, when he’s facing death? Lodovico. Oh, I could kill you forty times a day, And use ’t four years together, ’twere too little! Naught grieves but that you are too few to feed the famine of our vengeance. What dost think on? Flamineo. Nothing; of nothing: leave thy idle questions. I am i’ th’ way to study a long silence: To prate were idle. With this remark, the hushed audience absorbs the heavy gravity of the moment—the pressure of the Situation has shut riotous Flamineo’s mouth, finally. 3. —but now comes a Genius Move! Fifty-odd lines later, as Flamineo dies he reverts to type and belts out an (abbreviated) prose block. It is a “triumphant” return to character, “his old self” at the last! Here’s looking at you, kid— I recover like a spent taper, for a flash, And instantly go out. Let all that belong to great men remember th’ old wives’ tradition: to be like the lions i’ th’ Tower on Candlemas day, to mourn if the sun shine, for fear of the pitiful remainder of winter to come. ’Tis well yet there ’s some goodness in my death, My life was a black charnel. I have caught An everlasting cold; I have lost my voice Most irrecoverably.

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Meanwhile, Webster’s White Devil is outrageously wacky. The nobility is a snake-pit of odious characters, yet the storyteller’s art bamboozles the audience into emotional connections. Example : Noble Bracciano has no compunction about defiling a married woman, and he plots with her brother to win her affection, and thus is received by her mother, and the audience, as a vile character. Eventually, in 5.3, Bracciano is mortally poisoned, and stars as the dying one in a death scene that one might imagine as, well—please picture Hans Gruber being the evil Hans Gruber, yet imagine his death in Die Hard as portrayed with the heartfelt tender solemnity deserving of the deathbed scene of Murph. Not quite the David Cronenberg-meets-Terms of Endearment vibe of Οἰδίπους, but close. Then—hard to believe?—the death scene takes a turn for the worse. Lodovico. This is a true-love knot Sent from the Duke of Florence. Psycho Lodovico, costumed in religious garb, strangles the already dying man—strangles vile Bracciano, because, to some, revenge is sweeter than death. * May one commit to revenge as to love at first sight? * The Triple Tone is triumphant in 5.3, in which psycho Lodovico and accomplice Gasparo, both costumed and masked as Capuchin friars, preside over bedridden Bracciano with fluent Latin, a Situation to cast a solemn spell over the rapt audience—perversely so. Imagine, kind reader, the Royal Albert Hall at full audience capacity belting out “Rule, Britannia!” under the baton of a lunatic Hannibal Lecter.

Anton. If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule? Our friend Faust experienced much in Christopher Marlowe’s diabolical work. In his lifetime Faust gained worldly knowledge and wealth and fame—but, by the end, where did living in the world lead him? * [ The clock strikes eleven ] Faust. Ah, Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn’d perpetually! Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; (Remember Melody Anderson in Flash Gordon struggling to overturn the hourglass?) Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! (14.134–41; cf. rise 3.13—the repetition technique recalls Οἰδίπους Τύραννος.) * Alas, Faust recognises the following : O, no end is limited to damned souls! (14.171) cf. Grady. I should know, sir. I’ve always been here. * (14.185–6). Terrified at oncoming doom, Faust speaks out a childish hope : O soul, be chang’d into little water drops, And fall into the ocean, ne’er be found. cf. Oppenheimer Shot 1. Waterdrops = fresh souls—see the compass drawing blast radii at (1:31:00). Shot 2. The character Oppenheimer surveying, as God. * Final words. Faust. I’ll burn my books!—Ah, Mephostophilis! cf. F. W. Murnau, Faust (1926), 15:43–17:43. Also features an original “bat man” at the wondrous 2:00; at the end, an exploding sun.

Visual Style in film Visual style in film is the manner in which information is transacted to the Spectator. Visual style provides cues to receive the narrative in a certain way. Visual style is the inescapable fundament of cinema, just as the alphabet permits writing.

The Zone of the Meghan Moment Body language expert Judi James said : “She used the technique of empathy, appearing to be reading at the same pace as the children and looking and sounding genuinely surprised when she turned each page.” Ellen Coughlan, “Meghan Markle used her acting skills to bond with children”, Daily Mail, 3 April 2024.

Faust : Myth of Mind Faust. But, leaving [ the subject of ] these vain trifles of men’s souls . . . (3.64) Faust’s visionary success has blinded him to humanness; he has become a megalomaniac. He now associates himself with Immortals—perversely so, as he’s fated to eternal suffering, which, at the end, he comes to realise : Faust. All beasts are happy, For when they die Their souls are soon dissolv’d in elements; But mine must live still to be plagu’d in hell. (19.176–79) But at the first, anti-hero Faust fancies himself smarter and stronger than inhuman spirits.—e.g., at (3.85–88), he attempts (audaciously) to school the devilish Mephistopheles : What, is great Mephostophilis so passionate For being deprived of the joys of heaven? Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess. (Clamorously Famous last words.) * Kind reader, please recall the Faustian anti-hero Oppenheimer : “the atomic bomb will be a terrible revelation of divine power.” * (3.89–102). Hell-bent Reason Deluded intellectual Faust, fancying himself heroic, enlists Mephistopheles as messenger : Faust. Go bear these tidings to great Lucifer : Seeing Faustus hath incurr’d eternal death By desperate thoughts against Jove’s deity, (An early literary sighting of the concept of THOUGHTCRIME!) Say he surrenders up to him his soul So he will spare him four and twenty years, Letting him live in all voluptuousness; Having thee ever to attend on me, To give me whatsoever I shall ask, To tell me whatsoever I demand, To slay mine enemies and aid my friends, And always be obedient to my will. Go, and return to mighty Lucifer, And meet me in my study at midnight, And then resolve me of thy master’s mind. Mephistopheles. I will, Faustus. [ exit ] Scrooby invites the kind reader to accept this pact as a metaphor of humankind’s doomed dependence on the faculty of Reason. * (3.104–115). So then a falsely-confident Faust envisions a triumphant engineering project : Faust. Had I as many souls as there be stars, I’d give them all for Mephistophilis. By him I’ll be great emperor of the world, And make a bridge thorough the moving air To pass the ocean with a band of men; I’ll join the hills that bind the Afric shore, And make that country continent to Spain, And both contributory to my crown; The Emperor shall not live but by my leave, Nor any potentate of Germany. Now that I have obtain’d what I desir’d, I’ll live in speculation of this art, Till Mephistophilis return again. [ Exit ] The bridge : a Literal & Metaphorical gadget : à la Trinity. * Please note how Faust, intoxicated with intelligence, fancies himself a world figure—the foremost man. Bohr. You’re an American Prometheus;—The man who gave them the power to destroy themselves. And they’ll respect that. After the detonation, the character Oppenheimer seeks to give them the power to save themselves. e.g. Oppenheimer. Mr President, I feel that I have blood on my hands. Faustian intoxication? Or heroic accountability; personal responsibility; humanness? Oppenheimer. It’s not that simple. * (1.52–3) Faust. O, what a world of profit and delight, Of power, of honour, of omnipotence, Is promis’d to the studious artisan! Oppenheimer. Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.

The European myth of Faust Faust. Now that the gloomy shadow of the night, Longing to view Orion’s drizzling look, Faust is as educated as, say, the character Oppenheimer; here he cites an ancient concept : cum subito adsurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion rising suddenly from the waves, stormy Orion also aquosus Orion Virgil, Aeneid (1.535 / 4.52). (i.e., the constellation Orion is associated with stormy weather; see also Horace, Odes, 1.28.21.) Let’s begin again. Faust. Now that the gloomy shadow of the night, Longing to view Orion’s drizzling look, Leaps from th’ antartic world unto the sky And dims the welkin with her pitchy breath, Faustus, begin thine incantations, And try if devils will obey thy hest, Seeing thou hast pray’d and sacrific’d to them. Within this circle is Jehovah’s name Forward and backward anagrammatiz’d, Th’ abbreviated names of holy saints, Figures of every adjunct to the heavens, And characters of signs and erring stars, By which the spirits are enforc’d to rise : Then fear not, Faustus, but be resolute, And try the uttermost magic can perform! Marlowe, Doctor Faustus, 3.1–15 Kind reader, please note that the word “rise” in this scene-opening monologue is (SCROOBY THEORY) an actor’s cue to lift his voice in pitch and volume as a climactic power-engendering Genius Move. What Faust doesn’t know : Standing in the balcony above him are, according to the s.d. : [ Thunder. Enter LUCIFER and four DEVILS above. ] * (3.29–30). Our European friend Faust, having just summoned a devil from Hell with his knowledgeable magic, celebrates himself : I see there’s virtue in my heavenly words! Who would not be proficient in this art? The question (put here in Scrooby italics) is a direct question delivered (SCROOBY THEORY) eye-to-eye to the audience. * (3.75–82). Mephistopheles, a “servant to great Lucifer” (42), appears before Faust in cooperative reply to Faust’s nighttime conjuring. Faust. Where are you damn’d? Mephistopheles. In hell. Faust. How comes it then that thou art out of hell? Mephistopheles. Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it. (Dear wide-eyed reader : A relatable thought?) Think’st thou that I, who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells In being depriv’d of everlasting bliss? cf. The Hell within him, for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place. Paradise Lost, 4.20–3 * now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain Torments him Paradise Lost, 1.54–6. * * * Inflection equivalence Neff. That tears it. (Double Indemnity, 12:25) Flamineo. We’re blown up, my lord. (White Devil, 4.2.136) * A woman hopes for a kiss . . . and prompts . . . Kitty. Now here I am, wherever the hell this is. (Oppenheimer, p40) Vittoria. I’ll speak not one word more. (White Devil, 4.2.187–9) . . . and receives one.

The Tragical History of Doctor Fausti Now follows Doctor Fausti’s awful and terrifying end, which every right-thinking man must beware, which every right-thinking man must consider, and beware. Doctor Fausti’s twenty-four years had passed; and in that very week the Spirit came to him. He showed himself, and handed over the contract, and said that the Devil would come for his body the next night—“Make no mistake about that.” So, Doctor Fausti, who knew no way out but was committed to give up his skin, left the same day the Devil would come for him, and went to his learnéd friends and students from the university, who had often visited him. He asked them to walk with him to Rimlich, a village half a mile from Wittenberg, and have a meal with him there. They agreed. So they went together, and shared a morning meal of many delicious dishes and wine. Doctor Fausti acted cheerful with them, but he was troubled at heart. Then he asked them, since they were so merry together, to stay with him through the day and feast into the night, for he had something important to say. So when the nightcap was finally drunk, Doctor Fausti settled the bill; then asked his friends to withdraw with him to another room, for he had something to tell them. They went, and Doctor Fausti said to them all : “My good friends, all you fine gentlemen, hear now why I have invited you. For many years you have known me, what kind of man I am. Now I tell you all my knowledge of the arts of magic were given me by the Devil. I fell in with a bad crowd, who long ago fed me to his diabolical lust. My blind will gave up my flesh and blood for extravagant thoughts, which were given me; and I promised to the devil, after twenty-four years, my body and soul. Ah Faust! Now all these years have come to an end, and the hourglass runs out before my eyes, and because I have pledged myself to him, he is coming to take me tonight. This is why I called you to me, my friends; I did not want to hide my death from you. Before my end, let us have a farewell drink. I ask you, dear friends, to remember me with kindness, and hold nothing against me. If I have ever offended you, I ask you kindly to forgive me.” “Oh Master Fausti! What have you done? Why did you keep this from us for so long? We would have found learnéd theologians to tear through the Devil’s net and save you! Now it is too late for your body and soul.” Doctor Fausti answered that he should not have done it. And that many times he had sought good people to give him advice and help, but could not bring himself to ask. When they understood this from Doctor Fausti, they said to him : “You must call upon God.” He told them he wanted to pray, but it would not come to him; just like Cain, who said that some sins are too great for forgiveness. At that, the students and good gentlemen wept and embraced each other. Doctor Fausti lamented and wept, and the ghost returned to him, and said : “The Devil has promised that you shall not suffer the horrors of Hell like all the other damned, but shall be safe from fire.” He gave him such comforting words and more, but they were all lies. So it happened between twelve and one o’clock that night, a great raging wind surrounded the house, as if it meant to tear it down. The students, despairing, jumped out of bed and comforted each other. But not one of them had the courage to leave the room. They heard a horrible whistling and hissing, as if all the halls were full of snakes; then Fausti opened his door, and began to cry for help, and to shout out, “Murder!” but with barely half a voice. Soon after, he was no longer heard. When it was daylight, the students went out into the halls, but they saw no Fausti, nothing of him; but the walls of the rooms were drenched in blood. Then they saw his body stuck to the wall, because the devil had hammered him from one wall to another. There were also his eyes, and quite a lot of teeth; and they found his spectacles. Ultimately, they took the body out to the dung heap. It was horrible to see : his head and all his limbs were quivering. After that they returned to Wittenberg and to Doctor Fausti’s home. There they found his servant, Wagner, morbidly distressed. Doctor Fausti would appear to Wagner at night, and showed him many secret things. Ever since then, his house was so eerie that no one could live there for long. And those absent-minded enough to look up at his house might still see him looking out of his window at those who passed by. This was the true history of Doctor Fausti, from which all persons must learn the following : Stay sober and awake, for your enemy, the devil, walks like a hungry lion and seeks anyone he may devour. Resist him firmly with all your faith. [ end ] anonymous, Historia von D. Johann Fausten, 1587.

The origin story (at 12:43) Gregory Irwin. I got into it at a very young age. My high school had a four-year film program; that’s where I fell in love with it. I became a first AC at the age of 18, at college. I went to film school, all four years, and ended up getting three business degrees at the same time. So I’ve applied all of that to how I operate and function a camera department on the big feature films.