I'm French! Can't you tell by my outrrrrrrrageous accent?

I have to get the summarization out of my system. Here it goes:

Orpheus (O) is a jerk poet married to Euridice (E), who witnesses the murder? of fellow poet Cegeste (renamed Zombie, for my purposes, thus abbreviated Z). Death (D) drags O into her car, which is driven by Heurtebise (the Chauffer, thus abbreviated as C). D turns Z into a zombie and uses him to transmit radio messages to O. After much confusion, E gets "killed", O goes into the underworld to save her, ends up falling madly in love with D, who is madly in love with him, they go before a trio of judges, O goes back to Earth with E, then sees her and ends up sending her back to the Underworld. Somehow, he ends up back in the Underworld, again guided by C, who helps D illegally send him back to life with E, in a world where O and D never met, E is still pregnant, and O&E are happily having a child.

Whew!

Now, I've only ever heard Death (or Hades) described as male. While I'm sure there are descriptions of Death as female, I'd like to share some of the descriptions I've found of Death as male:

"It is said of the angel of death that he is full of eyes. In the hour of death he stands at the head of the departing one with a drawn sword, to which clings a drop of gall."

"In modern-day European-based folklore, Death is known as the Grim Reaper...wearing a dark hooded cloak and wielding a scythe."

"He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black...He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther." (From Percy Jackson and the Olympians Book 1: The Lightning Thief)

Once I realized that the dark-haired, dark-clad woman was Death, I was amused. Death is always shown as an incredibly powerful figure. Clearly, the ability to end a life is incredible and shows great power. For a woman to be given that power was pretty, well, empowering. Everything about her oozed dominance, from her tight-laced corset to her pulled-back hair. She had the look of a dominatrix, and a personality to match. She managed to get more than one person to vow complete obedience to her. While they didn't lick her boots, even their body posture suggested that they were her little zombie slaves, particularly Cegeste.

Yet our article suggests that it's Orpheus who controls the seductivity in the film. (And if "seductivity" wasn't a word before, it is now.) While I won't deny that he's an attractive man, not a single thing he did seemed even remotely seductive. His most powerful tool, his poetry, was failing him. His desperation for inspiration drove him to sit in a car possibly symbolic of Charon's ferry over the River Styx, in order to gather the almost Dada-esque ramblings of a dead man. He never does find out who the messages are being sent by, nor do we ever know why or how the messages are sent prior to Cegeste's death.

As we discussed in class, it was rather insane of Orpheus to don Death's gloves and follow her into the Underworld, though he certainly had a great guide. As Jose mentioned, it was as though Orpheus was so distraught at his failing artistry, his tempestuous (though described as "perfect") marriage, and his strange encounter at the castle that he decided he had to do something. It was either a leap of faith or death...or in this case, a leap of faith into the realm of death.

But does death being female have any other meaning? Is her seductivity simply a means of screwing with Orpheus? Is it a statement about how death can be seductive to ill, damaged, or desperate men? Or is it just a way of warping the original myth?

The original myth has Orpheus returning to the mortal realm after losing his wife, and eventually finding comfort in the arms of young boys. In the early days of theatre, women were portrayed by young boys - they have the same body type, the same voices, and often move in similar patterns. And as Death is often portrayed as male, it's not too far of a stretch to think that perhaps Cocteau decided that he could mention Orpheus's love of boys without stepping on any toes or irritating any of the media outlets. As Death was shown in control, with minions, if you will, she appeared almost masculine, from a power standpoint. Therefor, it isn't too off-base to assume that she's a replacement for the boys.

So death is a woman, possibly in place of a series of boys. The dead chauffer and Death's right-hand-man is Charon, or perhaps a death-in-training. The zombie-dude is a poet/slave of Death...Yeah, I've got nothing for him. But what I do know is that Death gives back a life that she shouldn't, and in doing so, gets in all manner of trouble for it. Is it because she got involved in the first place and unintentionally seduced Orpheus? Or was she seduced by him, though he was at the point of desperation that could have led to his suicide? Shouldn't she have let him suicide, so she could have him forever? If she was given the position as fill-in for the boys that Orpheus loves, it would make sense that she should try to send him back to a time before his obsession began, particularly if she's in love with him. That would keep him out of trouble and avoid being torn apart. Woo.

Creepy Obsessive Man is Creepy - or - Vertigo

Steinbeck wrote a book entitled The Red Pony. A 4-part book, the title character dies in the first chapter and is never mentioned again. What does this have to do with the movie Vertigo? Well, not much. But I got the same kind of dissatisfaction with the title of Hitchcock's freak-tastic movie.
I understand that the dizzying condition can't be overused. I understand that there's more to the story than just said condition. But uh...there were some situations that could have merited a little bit of vertigo. For example, when Madeleine jumps into the water- it's kind of high. Was there even a hint of vertigo? No. Blah.
Moving right along, we have two, no, three creepers in the movie. The most obvious is "Scotty." Then again, I was wondering about his actual creeper-ality. Ok, yes, he did decide to hook up with his old classmate's "wife". The one he was hiredto protect. Ok, so that's bad. But who are you going to protect more than someone you love? Then she's dead, and he dates a woman who looks just like her. Ok, that's a little creepy. Then he tries to make her into dead chick. More creepy. But throughout the movie, I entertained the theory that perhaps he was trying to piece things together.
Aside from the obvious physical similarities, there's the speech. The two women speak the same way, with the same voice. That has to set off a few bells. Judy the Madeleine impersonator suggests the restaurant in which Scotty first saw "her" for a date location. DING DING DING! She flips her wig when he tries to put her in the gray suit...which she still has. I mean, really. Fail on her part.
So with all of these clues, I wondered if Scotty wasn't starting to figure out Judy's identity/connection with Madeleine. I thought that maybe the hairdo and the acceptance of the restaurant as a dating spot were Scotty's ways of sussing things out. The clothes were his way of putting the details together. And clearly, the necklace was the crowning moment.
And what about Judy? When she wore the necklace, was she sub-consciously trying to expose herself? I don't think she really wanted to spring it on Scotty like that. She obviously wanted to tell him; she almost left him a note. But she couldn't go through with it. So she kept her mouth shut the whole time they were...dating, I guess. But at the end, maybe her brain was trying to get her to confess. I couldn't help but think that her wearing of the necklace was in some way intentional. Not intentional-intentional. I don't think she went, "Hey, now's a good time to mess with his head and make him think that I really am Madeleine, and then I can confess and we can go back to the happy-happy pumpy-thrusty." I do think that somewhere in the back of her mind, she wanted to confess. When she looked for jewelry, she subconsciously found her way of confessing - the necklace.
And jumping ahead to another creeper - the husband. WTF, man?! Tricking your friend - while paying him - and simultaneously murdering your wife - while paying someone to pretend to be her? What on earth are you thinking? Wouldn't it be easier just to toss her off a roof and claim the crazy-go-nuts excuse? Then there's no risk of anyone finding out the truth. And it would save a whole mess of money. And wasn't he creepily suspicious when he didn't even seem upset about his wife's death? I don't care who you are, you're going to show some sort of distress if you love your wife. Or even like her. Even if you're just using her for her money, couldn't you afford to fake a little emotion? Please?

The Third Man

Let's talk soundtracks. The soundtrack to a movie, television show, or musical can be more powerful than dialogue, camera work, or physical acting. It tells you what your emotions should be. It tells you what's going on. It's intended to set the scene, mood, and overall "feel". So when you have a soundtrack composed entirely in major keys, played by a plucky-sounding, twangy instrument, you're likely to think of something like Hairspray or Sesame Street. (I might add that both do have minor chords in them, but the feeling is the same.)
When you think of something bad happening, you get that specific sound in your head. Think Law and Order. When they're about to find a body, what does it sound like? Creepy, dissonant, and not particularly pleasant. So when a creepy man, one who is supposedly dead, steps out of the shadows, you probably shouldn't hear something that sounds like the Happy Days theme song, right? Or, as mentioned in class, something you would expect to hear during a Spongebob marathon.
Sure, the soundtrack underscores the irony and shows that Harry is childlike and feels innocent. Grand. It still bugs the crap out of me. There are hundreds of ways to show that. Put a splash of color in his costume. Throw him under some warm lights. Give him a goofy walk, for chrissakes, but give me some damned creepy music!

Another note: Anyone who watches excessive amounts of Law and Order, CSI, or NCIS probably figured out pretty early on that the "third man" was Harry, and the missing man was the dead one. I wasn't certain about that last part until they opened the coffin, but I knew as soon as the janitor was killed that Harry was the third man, was still alive, and was up to no good. Someone was pushed. There was a third man. Harry supposedly spoke about his lover and his biffle before his death, but the likelihood of his having survived the crash (perpetrated by his own driver?!) was next to none. All of those things added up to something squiffy going on, and the best option was Harry being alive. Leastways, in my mind. And when the cat that only liked him wound up rubbing against a shadowy pair of feet, it just cemented it in my mind.

I'd go into the set and such, but at the moment, I'm putting that idea on pause. I'd like to review parts of the movie again to get a better feel for certain parts and to confirm what I only vaguely recall about the backgrounds. Tirrah.

Citizen Kane

First things first: ONLY IN RIDICULOUS COMEDIES SHOULD THE 4TH WALL BE BROKEN!
Ah, now that I've gotten that off of my chest, let us begin.
I saw bits and pieces of Citizen Kane before seeing the entire movie in class. Knowing that Rosebud was a sled kind of killed the mystery for me, but it also shed a little more insight on the man in question. He didn't appear overly sentimental throughout the film, but he clearly held at least a little sentimentality for his childhood. Perhaps it was because he beat a man about the head with his sled. Perhaps it was because his sled reminded him of his dear mother. Who knows?
In class, the question of why the mother gave Kane up was posed. Why didn't she just leave the abusive/drunk/otherwise wicked husband? Um, hello? What year was this? With the exception of Nora in A Doll's House, how many women in that time period actually left their husbands? The likelihood that she would have been able to make it in that world, husbandless, is slim to none. So the most logical thing to do is to get her son out of that situation so he could flourish and become a better person. Leastways, that's my take on it.
The mystery surrounding Rosebud was interesting to me. It's made obvious that Kane is a fairly casual man, who doesn't seem to take much seriously. His first marriage dissolves because of an affair with another woman. He takes his new newspaper and turns it into a tabloid. He doesn't really seem to think much about what happens in his life until after it has happened. He fires his best friend because he wrote a scathing (yet correct) review about Kane's woman's atrocious opera performance - or rather, started writing one. That Kane finished. In an equally scathing manner. This man had been with Kane for how long? And he just throws him aside like an old overcoat. Much like his first wife...
The other question raised was, "Why tell it from others' perspectives after Kane's death?" Another student said it exactly: if he's not there, he can't skew the story. He's a newspaper man; he's out to make money on a story. How would he have told his story? Would he have allowed his possible insanity to show? Would he have discussed his trashing of his second wife's room upon her departure? Would we have even seen the way his first marriage dissolved? The only way we could get the whole picture of Kane, his life, and his ways was to keep him out of the picture. Granted, the storytellers probably embellished, put their own spin on it, and altered some facts, but Kane would most likely have shown only the good side, and never discuss - or completely alter - the bad. And if he had been alive, the entire Rosebud scenario would have gone out the window. Certainly he would have shed light on Rosebud, why he cared so for his sled, and what his sled truly meant. The lack of explanation allows the viewer to take what he will about Kane and his final words, to read into it what he wants to see. Some might say that Rosebud was the only thing Kane ever trusted. I don't buy that, but it's a possibility. And others might say that Rosebud symbolized the simplest time in his life, before he became a rich playboy with a scandal sheet.