Dear disconcerted reader,
Why yes, we’re only half-way through January and it’s already tacky as molasses and stretching like taffy to create a confusing confection. It reminds me of what’s referred to in cinema terms as a ‘dolly zoom’, from the era when filmmakers couldn’t rely on digital effects and were forced to innovate through technical trickery.
The method was first created by Alfred Hitchcock with unsettling results in Vertigo (1958)1, and you’ll have seen it used in films and TV shows many time since. Its purpose is to spotlight a unique moment of disorientation or insight for a character. It’s one of those cinematic devices that must be used sparingly, but when deployed at a pivotal moment it’s supreme at evoking a specific mood.
Hitchcock was working with academy award-winning cinematographer Robert Burks at the time he created Vertigo. The dolly zoom is also nicknamed the ‘Hitchcock Shot’, but Burks should get as much of the credit for implementing the dizzying effect. The story behind the creation of the film is fascinating for cinema buffs, and there’s a detailed explanation of the twists and turns of how the film was realised in this article by George E. Turner. It’s a reminder of how movies are a strange combination of strategic planning and happenstance.
The film’s downbeat and strange storyline did not play well to audiences in 1958, but the film has gone on to rate consistently as once of the best movies in cinematic history (according to film critics). If you required another reminder of the need to stick to your vision with conviction and determination despite the gain-sayers this is a great example of it. It also affirms the classic Hollywood adage, ‘nobody knows anything’.
William Goldman, screenwriter and novelist, best known as the scriptwriter of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) and All the President’s Men (1976)2 coined the term in his exemplary book, Adventures in the Screen Trade: A Personal View of Hollywood and Screenwriting (1983). It’s worth replicating most of the quote:
“Nobody knows anything...... Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what's going to work. Every time out it's a guess and, if you're lucky, an educated one.”
This observation was subsequently demonstrated with the release of The Princess Bride (1987), which Goldman adapted from his 1973 novel of the same name.3 The studio didn’t know what to make of it, and on release it was a commercial disappointment. However, it went on to become a beloved movie of a generation, and continues to gain new fans every year.
All the above might seem planned out, but it’s simply a result of me starting to write and following a series of threads, which is how I produce about 50% of my newsletters these days. Trust your intuition: dig into what’s fascinating to you and you will discovers gemstones (or at least, spuds!).
All hail Rabbit Holes!
Earlier today I planned to approach this newsletter with a completely different focus (I’m withholding the subject as I’ll tackle it another time), but I fell down a succession of rabbit holes simply by following the research on the topics and people that arose.
When I came to start the newsletter, after being waylaid by several intriguing stories, I promptly got sidetracked by another series of branching threads by thinking of the dolly zoom metaphor.
The White Rabbit dashed into a large hole under a hedge, and I followed.
Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves: here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled “ORANGE MARMALADE,” but to her disappointment it was empty; she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody underneath, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.
“Well!” thought Alice to herself. “After such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!” (Which was very likely true.)
There’s that queasy zoom effect again: Alice falls but is suspended as she takes her trip into a very different world. Whenever I read sections of the Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland I’m always struck by how well Carroll replicates the skipping nature of our stream of consciousness when we are daydreaming. It remains fresh because it captures our modern preoccupation with our distractedness and the hyperactivity of thoughts.
Thank goodness mindfulness wasn’t a trend in Carroll’s day.4
But we must emerge from the land of mad tea parties and put down the baby that has turned into a pig.
Now I’ve looped all the threads it strikes me that that the first rabbit hole I dived into that prompted me to write about the subject is too long a diversion for this point in the newsletter.
I’m out of Wonderland and it’s not time to step through the looking glass.
Research diversions can consume a great deal of your attention if you allow them especially if you — like me — are endlessly fascinated by the details of our world and its history.
I’m currently researching three different areas for several projects and they are captivating me completely. I am dazzled by humanity’s inventiveness and stories of perseverance throughout the ages despite the great obstacles (resources/technology/class/gender/outdated opinion) they faced. Each thread I pull upon brings me to another complicated weave and I become entranced by the patterns and textures.5
Often, a stern internal voice booms a warning: ‘This woolgathering is not productive!’
There is a magical point of research satiety, where you are full enough of suitable facts to proceed with writing, knowing that you’ll be snacking along the journey as need demands. One of the issues that arises for me is simply underestimating how long it takes to achieve that first stage. I’m not someone who can begin writing without a certain density of knowledge. I’ve tried it, and it results in a jerking pace of writing as I continually interrupt myself to check my material.
It’s like taking the rambling route to a destination and discovering it is was faster than the shortcut.
No doubt, this will appear rather indirect and undisciplined to some people, and I salute all of you who can proceed in a more sensible manner!
I’ve learned to accept that there might be a wise instinct nudging me in nonsensical directions. The imagination-engine needs strange fuel for wild adventures.
After all, I am making stuff up!
The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she thought: still it had very long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.
“Cheshire Puss,” she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. “Come, it’s pleased so far,” thought Alice, and she went on. “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where—” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
“—so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation.
“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
To return to reality, albeit to future dates, so a somewhat intangible prospect…
I’m going to be a guest at the Waterford International Comic Arts Festival (WICAF), along with a plethora of talented comic book creators, for its inaugural event for the St. Brigid’s bank holiday weekend. The organisers hope to establish this as a regular Irish festival to celebrate comic books as an artform.
Come join us!
The film was adapted from the 1954 novel D'entre les morts (From Among the Dead) by Boileau-Narcejac by screenwriters Alec Coppel and Samuel A. Taylor, and stars James Stewart as former police detective John ‘Scottie’ Ferguson and Kim Novak who plays both Madeleine Elster and Judy Barton.
Another example of Goldman’s ability to craft a memorable phrase is the expression ‘Follow the money’, which he wrote for the film.
It was directed by Rob Reiner and starred Cary Elwes, Robin Wright, Mandy Patinkin, Chris Sarandon, Wallace Shawn, André the Giant, and Christopher Guest.
Yes, I write this half-jesting, as someone with a grasshopper mind who mediates pretty often.
Even the horrors, though they haunt me for a considerable time.
Great newsletter today, Maura! I'm a huge Hitchcock fan, Vertigo was my favorite for many years -love the dolly cam- (I think my favorite nowadays is North by Northwest) but I love everything by him. I also was born & raised on stuff like Arthur Rackham's fairy tale work + mermaids, and Lewis Carroll amongst a million other favorite things.
*btw didst thou knoweth Stephen King is such a fan of Princess Bride (+ the original work it was based on) that he begged William Goldman to finish the sequel? To the point that when he still procrastinated on it Stephen King suggested he would write it himself if William was so willing to let him do so.
🪐💫👩🏻🎤⚡