Rival camps

Some things keep you up at night. In the universe of Kubrick, and more specifically, the world of Eyes Wide Shut, we are bound to comes across more than a few such examples. Not that the detail in question actually keeps me up at night, or ever did, it being more of a metaphor for the feeling of an unexplored detail whose overall importance in the narrative could be considered more than marginal. 

The scene in question occurs during the "day-in-the-life" montage, which shows Bill going to work, and Alice and Helena going about their daily routine (this includes grooming, wrapping presents, eating breakfast, etc). Alice is guiding Helena as a mother would be expected to do. It could be assumed that Helena is on holiday break from school, given the Christmastime theme. But, we should reconsider a word I just used: grooming. I.e., grooming is what they are doing, but, it is also what Alice is doing to Helena. This meaning of the word also has a darker connotation which, as we can currently see, the media tends to ignore or, hold in ironic contempt - as if such things really happened. But sadly, they do. Or, simply, "they do." As the world saw (or didn't see) with Epstein, and later, Maxwell, there can be no question of the dark powers preying on the wealthiest individuals in the world. Kubrick and Eyes deep-divers are surely already well-acquainted with speculation about Alice's dark-horse dynamic. This may shed light on the exegesis that follows. 

Alice and Helena are seated at the dinette table; Alice is reading a newspaper, and Helena is eating breakfast and watching Bugs Bunny's Looney Christmas Tales. I began to fixate on the question of which newspaper Alice was reading. This scene happens twenty-one minutes into the film, at the beginning of what I dub the "Rockwellian" montage (after Norman Rockwell's twin works Day in the Life of a Little Girl, and, Day in the Life of a Boy, c. 1952). I think of this artist and his particular work for a few reasons: first, because Kubrick is also commenting on traditional roles of men and women; second, because he is subtly inverting these roles; third, because the routine of their daughter Helena bridges the gap between child and adult, and speculates about modern theories like nature vs. nurture. Also, it registers at a personal level: one wall of a doctor's waiting room in childhood was furnished with reproductions of this modern diptych. There was something somber about it. This mood, I think, connects to Bill's office and waiting room, both of which are furnished with reproductions of expressionist, impressionist, and academic art works. This sets a strange and maybe ironic tone. 

There's also a storybook-ish, fantastical, and fantastically-deceptive atmosphere which characterizes the film as a whole. This fits with the linear, idealized Day in the Life tableaux. But Kubrick uses this only to the end that it can be inverted, not to mention that its chronological location is dubious. This "montage" enters the film after twenty minutes of footage which surely could lead us to doubt whether Bill and Alice are truly in love. In fact, the montage would seemingly make for a good overall introduction to a different kind of movie entirely. There's a "recut" trailer which imagines a PG version of the film on Youtube, and Shostakovich's "Waltz No. 2" provides a similar feeling. 

Kubrick employs the same trickery when Ziegler, coded via Sydney Pollack to be Jewish, says "Merry Christmas!" Are Bill and Alice Christians? Are the Zieglers? Is the party in any way celebrating Christmas? As atheists and other critics would point out: Christians appropriated a Pagan tradition some time in the Middle Ages. This is partly true. But, similarly, the atheists and critics would be wise to criticize a commercial, consumerist culture which appropriated the tradition of gift-giving which dates from St. Nicholas, the 3rd century Greek bishop who gave presents to orphans (and later became appropriated as Sinterklaas/"Santa Claus"). Considering the "star of Ishtar" wreaths at Ziegler's mansion that couldn't be more pregnant with notions of pagan worship, scandal, and sacrilege (even in the context of orthodox Jewish belief, as Baal, Ashtoreth/Ishtar, and Moloch are false and foreign idols that insult Yahweh), we have a subtle inversion of Christmas, Holiday, and Worship.

But, back to the topic at hand. The montage (which also breaks the cinematic rules of "montage" and is in itself an inversion of "filler," offering us vital clues to the narrative) feels cold and out of place. The montage is comprised of eleven shots, the last of which transitions back into the film's "real" or "lived" time.

Bill exits the elevator and enters the office. The scene cuts to Alice reading the newspaper with Helena at the table. Maybe this is gender neutral. But I tend to read this actually as masculine - not to make this whole thing about that dreadful word, "gender:" Alice seems more like a tired father who puts the kids in front of the TV so that he doesn't have to engage with them. Yet Alice is reading, or appearing to read, while Helena is entertained with a small television playing Bugs Bunny's Looney Christmas Tales. Consider, again, the dissonance of the Jewish-founded Warner Bros. (also Kubrick's main production company) catering to a majority white Anglo-Saxon Protestant audience. Or, the title itself, "Looney Christmas Tales," which might reflect a cynicism and mockery of Christian belief. None of this can be ruled out, though it isn't central to the topic at hand.

So I delved deeper into the very short clip during the "montage" and was able to identify the article title seen above. "Rival Camps Hold Rallies In Serbia." The article (from the Associated Press) appeared in the Friday, November 1, 1996 issue of the New York Times. My guess is this scene was shot in 1996 around the time of November or December. Regrettably, I paid for a trial subscription of NYT to read the contents of the article. But all was not lost: I was also able to scour the entire paper, just for fun. 

One interesting and maybe obvious thing to note before going too far into this exegesis is that the paper Alice is reading is not visible from the screen. I was able to verify via the NYT archive that the pages on the table are accurate. The "Rival Camps" article is on page A3. This page is facing out, so, Alice is looking at A4, on the opposite side. This is interesting, given that it is difficult to make out the page that is visible to us, as if concealing something which is already concealed. 

The bulk of A3 is seen above, and A4 is pictured below. The large article on A3 concerns Scottish independence. It's difficult to not imagine a possible allusion to the Scottish Rite and Freemasonry. Alice seems to be reading the article on A4, "Writer's Message to Those Who Trashed His Work." This article is about the Indonesian dissident writer, Pramoedya Ananta Toer. His library was burned after Suharto's military dictatorship ascended in the 1960s, purging the country of communists and suspected communists alike. Toer was imprisoned for much of his adult life. I have some thoughts about this: first, the title of this article obviously mirrors the subject of Kubrick and his work. A Clockwork Orange was banned in the UK shortly after it played in theaters. Full Metal Jacket was deeply subversive. Eyes Wide Shut was no box office hit (and clearly, has inspired skeptics for more than two decades). Kubrick was not to live to see the response to Eyes as he died shortly after completing the film. Some articles I've found in the summer 1999 issues of the NYT mention controversy over allowing the film to be considered "R" rating without removing or altering some of the explicit orgy scene. One article mentions the controversial material is only sixty-five seconds of footage. 

The bottom article, "Nepal Storm Hampers Search for a U.S. Couple" talks about a couple hiking in Nepal at Shey Phoksundo National Park. The bodies of Philip Fialkow, who was dean of University of Washington School of Medicine, his wife, and three sherpas were indeed later found. This disappearance maybe mirrors Nick Nightingale's disappearance - Fialkow and Nick are both from Seattle. The patterns seems to spell danger for Nick. 

Finally, we should consider the title phrase that enabled my search: "Rival Camps Hold Rallies In Serbia."

 

Slodoban Milosevic, president of Serbia and later, Yugoslavia, was accused of war crimes in 2002 for his killings of Bosnian muslims, Croats, and Kosovar people. He was actually exonerated in 2016, ten years after his death in prison. Here's the smoking gun for this entire post: Milosevic's wife, Mirjana Markovic, was called the "Red Witch" and "Lady Macbeth" by her many opponents. It is thought her devotion to Communism largely influenced Milosevic's actions as president. It happens that Alice and Helena both have strawberry blonde, "ginger" hair, as well as Domino, Sally, and Mandy. We have a possible reference to a woman (and/or women) pulling the strings of her husband. We also see a strange red figure on the wall above the TV in this scene.

What else? Well, obviously, there is a parallel between "Red Cloak" and "Red Witch." The Red Cloak at Somerton is male, while the "witch" is female. Red Cloak seems to be in charge of the activities at Somerton. We can say Red Cloak is powerful, or, at least appears powerful. The double-headed eagle on Red Cloak's throne ties back to Freemasonry, to Russia, to Germany, Albania, to the Byzantine Empire, to the ancient Hittites. The ubiquity of the symbol amplifies its mysterious character. 

Similarly, The Red Witch seems to have been powerful. Threats are issued at Somerton, just as atrocities were committed under Milosevic/Markovic's watch. I've written about the Stalker character at the end of the film. He is also seen at the jazz club where Nick's band is playing. This connection between "jazz" and the "stalker" also may point to Shostakovich's "Jazz Suite No. 2," which plays at the introduction, during the montage, and at the final credits. The Russian composer narrowly escaped exile and persecution - God knows why - when so many other artists in Stalin's Soviet Union were shown no mercy. It is said the composer was paranoid throughout his life. The piece used in Eyes is hardly representative of the composer's trademark dissonance. Listen to his fifteen string quartets, or fifteen symphonies, for textbook examples of discord, polyphony, and a general mood of anxiety and angst. Anyways. This, merely to suggest that Markovic's later exile in Russia paints a picture of deep Russian-Communist ties. It is well-known that all Communist parties across the world ultimately take their directives from Moscow. 

The second half of the article also holds some interesting clues 

That the USA and Germany were considered by Milosevic to be "the world's darkest powers" sheds light on Kubrick the man, his German wife, and his films. Of course, Milosevic is also to be understood as a warmonger and Communist propagandist, whose words foreshadow those of deceptive autocrat Putin. Entering the KGB in 1975, Putin transitioned to politics in the 1990s, serving over eighteen years (four terms) as president, not to mention two single-year terms as prime minister. The civil war in Ukraine exemplifies the Janus-headed nature of Russian foreign policy, invading and waging war on innocent civilians on the one hand, while maintaining that it is Russians who are under attack, on the other. As for Kubrick's pictures, Paths of Glory is set in France during the First World War, when Russia, Italy, Japan, the UK, France, and the US were allied. In the wake of the Second World War, it's interesting to consider the geopolitical changes: an independent Austria is annexed by Nazi Germany (also called "Anschluss"); Poland is dominated by Germany and Russia; Hungary and other Eastern European countries are lured into fascism; Fascist Italy and Japan stand with Germany; France, the UK, and Nordic countries resist Nazi invasion; etc., there are probably books about all of this. And then, with Nazi Germany demolished, the US and Russia become engaged in a Cold War. 

The Shining features symbolism with clear links to Nazi Germany (the meat cooler; Adler typewriter), while also suggesting the American elite to be corrupt. Full Metal Jacket all but condemns the US military, particularly in relation to the Vietnam War. As for Eyes Wide Shut, Schnitzler's novella was written in German; the USPS "eagle" appears many times begging the question of dubious origins. Furthermore, Eyes showcases New York as a symbol of America, with Bill as the symbol of American men, and his name as an obvious reference to the dollar bill. "Dollar," in fact, comes from the German "daler" or "thaler," dating to the 16th century. 

Austria-Hungary wanted to destroy Serbia, and Germany provided the empire with financial backing. Archduke Franz Ferdinand was killed in Sarajevo, in nearby Bosnia. The Rainbow costume shop owner, Milich, is played by Rade Serbedzija, who is Serbian, and the character seems to be coded as "Eastern European." The music playing at Somerton was taken from a Romanian Orthodox liturgy and played in reverse (by Jocelyn Pook) to demonic effect. We could also mention that the mythical vampire hails from Transylvania, in Eastern Europe, and that many other vampire myths have existed in the Balkans. Elizabeth Bathory herself was a Hungarian noblewoman whose alleged deeds are chilling. 

What's wrong with this picture?

This post concerns itself with the answering of a seemingly simple question: what changed after Bill's first visit to Domino's apartment? Like those anti-drug ads, or comic strip games from long ago, we may think "what's wrong with this picture?" The chiastic narrative of Eyes Wide Shut allows us several opportunities to observe changes and alterations between duplicate settings. Bill retraces his steps several times in the film. For example, he visits Ziegler's mansion twice, Domino's apartment twice, Somerton twice, Sonata cafe/Gillespie's twice, the Rainbow costume shop twice (more if we include the disguised streetscape), Mandy - the person - twice (or more, if Mandy is the masked woman at Somerton who warns bill on two different occasions to leave), etc. The duplicity (literally, "doubleness") of Bill's odyssey fits with the general notion of "masks" and "costumes." This duplicity is also an inherent feature of chiastic or mirror-image plot structure. 

Part I. Listing Differences

1. First, we only need study the two images above. To the left is a frame of Bill's first appearance at Domino's. The image on the right is Bill's second appearance. The settings are very similar, but I don't think we can say they are identical. The walls are a sickly green and yellow, and the doors are dark blue. One may think of Van Gogh's simple, yet melancholic, putrid palettes. 

A note on my observations of the color scheme: for the sake of argument, let's consider the following: The Bedroom, pictured above, was completed in 1888, but due to flooding of the artist's house, the original was damaged. A second version recaptured the first, and a third version followed. There are minor differences in all three versions - for example, color. Not to go too deeply into an image which itself does not appear in the film, but, the fact that there are three versions of the painting is of interest. Whether it be Monet or Van Gogh, Da Vinci or Degas, artists tend to make copies. In this way, the doubling of scenes seems to be Kubrick's opportunity to expand and develop themes. 

Note on a note: while Van Gogh is a good arty reference, it is also the book Alice is wrapping up as a Christmas present, likely for Bill, during the, what I would call, "Rockwell-esque" montage. The book is enormous. Does Bill like art? Or, is Alice trying to impress him? Who knows how to read this scene. At the very least, the book is ostentatious. But, once again, a thread for a different time.

2.  There's a blue baby stroller in the corner of the stairwell. In the first appearance, the baby stroller appears left-of-center, and the scene quickly progresses to Bill entering Domino's apartment. Domino's apartment appears like one big bedroom judging from the interior shots. We know from the view outside the building that the apartment's location is a logical impossibility - its location simultaneously occupying the lottery shop (my interpretation of the significance of the Lottery will certainly be addressed at a future date in a separate post). So, the whole thing may as well be a bedroom - in image or concept - since Bill's thoughts are surely concerned with the morality and social, familial repercussions of his actions (even before he acts). Given the context in which Bill is being propositioned to enter - for the sake of pleasure, with Domino - we can see the entire lobby and location as a conceptual or symbolic "bedroom." 

Ok.

When it comes to Kubrick films, I can't control how many cans of worms I open.

If we watch Bill's second appearance, the scene is slower. The blue baby-stroller appears in the corner. The camera hovers on Bill, who appears compromised in his intentions, or will. The camera captures the stroller behind Bill for considerably longer. It is visibly in the background, though admittedly, easy to miss. 

2B. The stroller is rotated in the second appearance. This could be an accident. Or, it could be that somebody moved it. Who moved it, and why? 

3. We should note the red tinsel on the wall above the stairs appears in the second scene. But it is not pictured when the camera faces Bill in profile, speaking through the door to Sally. "What's wrong with this picture?" becomes Can you spot the differences? It is to the left of the stroller and bordering the stairs. Stairs are a frequent code or symbol in Kubrick films. I can think of two lines in Eyes alone: 1. "Sex upstairs," which Alice says Sandor wanted; 2. "Victor's art collection," which Sandor says is upstairs. Also, Bill obviously walks upstairs by Victor's guard to a bathroom. This already tells us that "higher" things are actually base, fleshly, carnal - the staircase is an inversion. Bill ascends a staircase to enter Somerton; ascends a staircase to enter Domino's apartment lobby, etc. 

The interior staircase at Domino's apartment could very well be a clue placed visually adjacent to the symbolic power of the actual apartment doorway. It represents, if even in a subdued, latent, suppressed manner, the various connotations of "stairway" or "upstairs" seen earlier in the film. Notably the staircase at Domino's is dark in both appearances. Nobody is coming or going, but Bill is present. Furthermore, stairs function in two ways, no? One travels either up or down. The tinsel appears after Domino's absence. 

4. Domino leads Bill, vs., Bill seeks Domino. 

Is the tinsel a minor suggestion of Domino's disappearance? Domino is absent in the second visit. If we are to take Sally at her word, then Domino has HIV. Also, Sally must think that Bill and Domino had had sex, and therefore, that Bill should be concerned. But would two prostitute roommates not talk about the fact that a customer paid a regular rate for a few kisses? Sally even mentions she heard Bill was a "gentleman." It is impossible to determine what she knows about what went on between Bill and Domino. This casts doubt on Sally's story of Domino. But more on this later.

5. Though not included in the side-by-side picture above, the bicycle is present in the first and second shot of Domino's apartment. It is an old, green bicycle in the right corner of the lobby. Fine. Symbolically I think it is maybe deadweight, but of course, I wouldn't want to rush judgment. But the word "rush" points us in a direction: a bike signals urgency. Bikes are faster than walking, but save one from running. 

6. In the second shot, we see two metal trash cans hiding the bicycle somewhat. Interesting. The baby stroller is rotated, the red tinsel appears above the stairs, Domino is absent, and two trash cans are present. We should also note that when Bill is outside with Domino earlier in the "chapter," a large, black trash bag is pictured beside the steps. At least two large trash bags are seen in the second visit shot, when the camera looks down on Bill omnisciently as he enters the apartment lobby. 

7. The final detail is surely the most curious and suggestive: if we listen with the volume turned up, we can hear the screams of children, as if playing at a playground, when Bill enters the lobby to see Sally in the "return" visit. Where is the playground? Where are the children, actually? Outside we only see solitary figures who may as well be walking manikins, populating every shot of the city street. These people are quiet and brisk walkers. There are no children to be seen. Strangely too is the sound of laughter, but this disappears as Bill approaches the apartment door. The camera rests at an angle showing Bill knocking at the door, with the trash cans in the foreground. The trashcans appear and take dominance as the faint sound of children's laughter disappears. What is Kubrick getting at? Or, are these merely arbitrary details placed to create enough of a distinction between "before" and "after" shots? 

 

Part II. Response and Analysis

I am inclined to think these details are not arbitrary, and that they do reflect some intention on the part of the director, insofar as the director is fashioning the context of a fictional story. But certainly we know Kubrick was nothing if not obsessive with set design, acting, and dialogue. Therefore I think it can be argued that these details were intentional and they can and do possess varying degrees of symbolic power. 

First, consider the similarity or, indeed, duplicity of the name "Lou Nathanson." Lou is the old, ostensibly super-wealthy man whose death prompts his daughter, Marion, to phone Bill, his primary physician. As we know, in the wake of death, lust and desire take center stage. Marion's husband, Carl, who is a near-double of Bill (and whose name alliterates "Cruise"), finally arrives towards the end of the scene. Duplicity personified. After Bill goes to Lou's condo and meets with Marion and later Carl, he begins his odyssey on the street, where he eventually meets Domino.

A note on the name: Nathanson is an implied Jewish name, like Bill's other clients (Ziegler, Kominsky, Miller, etc). 19th and early 20th-Century French "Nabi" symbolist painter Edouard Vuillard painted his mistress, Misia Natanson at her and her husband's apartment for several years. Misia was born into an influential family who patronized the arts - theater, painting, fashion, music, etc. She modeled for many famous artists throughout her life. "Nabi" itself is adapted from the Hebrew word for "prophet," and was the name for a group of Parisian painters including Bonnard, Roussel, Serusier, and others. The Nathanson hi-rise apartment is very opulent. There's a sense that Bill is entering a castle or temple of sorts. The bedroom is reminiscent of the late 19th-Century, with wood chairs, lamps, framed art, etc. Marion and Misia are both "M" names, too. This 19th-century art world reminds us again of the role of the marginal, subliminal Van Gogh book. 

What if Lou Nathanson has a double, too? I'll admit that prolonged experiments in speculation have limited entertainment value. That's likely one of the reasons Eyes Wide Shut has always been on the margins of mainstream entertainment - it is far too long, ambiguous, and dreary to be popular. And yet, thanks to a minute-long orgy scene after what appears to be something like a black mass, it is easily one of the most damning portrayals of American and global ruling elites in the history of film. Anyways.

Consider the name "Bernard Nathanson." This is the name of the late atheist Jewish abortionist doctor from New York. He was a founding member of NARAL, whose activism and crafty lies helped legalize abortion via the Roe v. Wade ruling. But, when ultra-sound was developed, he began to abandon his pro-choice sentiments, realizing that fetuses at all stages of life feel pain. He created documentary films exposing the truths of abortion procedures in the modern era. He became a pro-life activist after experiencing years of intense depression brought on by his performing over 60,000 abortions. While attacking the Catholic Church’s unchanging moral teaching early on in his career, in the late nineties, after several years of spiritual direction, he was baptized and confirmed into the Church (it's never too late).

Why is this story still news? It is almost as if someone or something doesn't want us to know this story. There’s something very chilling about the damage done. In reality, there have been tens of millions of abortions since Roe - somewhere over 63 million in the US alone. The Holocaust resulted in at least 13 million deaths. The difference is who was doing the killing, and how. But the fact remains that far more lives were lost in recent times. Nathanson later expressed the view that abortion was the current, and much more grave, holocaust still happening in the modern west. He called it "satanic." This must have come after he had become agnostic or at least somewhat faithful. As I now write in a post-Roe America, we can't ignore the fact that pro-choice extremists called for the deaths of the Supreme Court's majority conservative justices, nor that pregnancy centers across the country have been fire-bombed, vandalized, and robbed. Maybe this violence and hatred is being conveniently displaced onto the unborn, or, maybe it is truly hateful of unborn (or any) human life. The latter could only fall under the category of "satanic." 

I would guess Bernard Nathanson lost friends along the way. NARAL co-founder and native New Yorker, Lawrence "Larry" Lader died before Nathanson, never changing his tune. NARAL itself, and the advent of abortion, was largely propagated by similar New York atheist ethnic Jews. It isn't a stereotype to mention that doctors who happened to be Jewish performed these procedures - there are factual accounts of this reality, brought on either by financial need, or greed, as was the case for Nathanson for so long. A third co-founder, Betty Freidan, seemed to become uneasy about abortion rights later in her life. A 1996 Crisis Magazine article on Nathanson points out that of religious groups supporting abortion, nearly 50% were Jewish. The anomaly is that scarcely 2% of Americans identify as religious Jews. This obviously suggests that there is a religious bias for the right to abortion. The modern abortion story itself begins in New York, with Margaret Sanger and what would become Planned Parenthood. While Sanger is responsible for advocating contraception, she also believed in eugenics and population control, targeting blacks and other minorities. The many Jewish - and gentile - doctors, it seemed, pioneered far more extreme and desperate measures to address the problem of unwanted pregnancy. 

So, back to the main issue. The baby stroller is empty during both the Domino and Sally sequence. Yet, the trash cans and sound of screaming children appear during the Sally sequence. The insinuation should hardly be ambiguous at this point. The question becomes: is this related to Domino's disappearance? The symbols mentioned coincide with the cipher of Sally as "69" (S=19, A=1, L=12, L=12, Y=25, added, = “69). If we look closely we also see Sally making advances towards Bill, as he walks through the door. 

Her head turned, eyes cast downward, reminiscent of Gayle and Nuala at Ziegler's ball. Sally seems to be seducing Bill. But Bill seems to be playing a chivalric character, the Good Doctor. So he can't be "surprised" that he is being seduced. Bill says "Hello Sally," in lustful way, reinforcing the cipher "69." Domino as a cipher of "70" is sequential to Sally, even though this would be counting down, since Domino appears first. "70" is a sort of perfection because of 7 - does this point to her disappearance? Furthermore, Sally's cipher points to the reality of abortion - killing is justified for the sake of convenience. This convenience is equidistant to pleasure. I.e., it is just as easy to have sex as it is to kill an unborn child. Killing is the means to the end of preserving one's own pleasure and well-being. If I know I can kill (or, "get rid of"), then I know I can pursue pleasure without conflict. The Holocaust, or Shoah, in this way, is seen not as an end but as a beginning. A Holocaust, or, "burnt offering," as we find in Leviticus, was ritual worship for ancient Jews. Countless Cristian and biblical scholars have drawn parallels between idol worship of Molech, the Canaanite deity associated with child sacrifice, and the modern abortion industry ("women's health") whose bio-hazard waste products are incinerated at an industrial scale. For this reason, too, a serious religious Jew wouldn't adopt pro-choice sentiments, just as any Christian and Catholic would not - though, sadly, too many do. 

We arrive at more questions.

Was Domino HIV positive? Could it be that Domino was pregnant? Or, was Domino "sacrificed" by the Somerton thugs? Did Domino get an abortion? Again, we are faced with "experiments in speculation." All we know is Sally says Domino has HIV. But, we know that this could be a cover story. 

I would expand this notion by suggesting these details are indeed "cover stories" for the reality of our modern Western civilization. While Full Metal Jacket was overtly political, and explicitly critical of the US military, the final killing of the young female Vietnamese sniper may hold a clue for us culturally. As I mentioned above, Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood (in Brooklyn) was surely "racist" or "classist" by today's standards (depending on who you ask) and endorsed eugenics via contraception. Though she opposed abortion, she supported preventing "unfit" life (a contradiction, no?) Her work preceded the Final Solution by at least two decades. Abortions grew exponentially after Roe, even though birth control was available. Maybe it wasn't widely available, maybe it wasn't effective. But I'm not satisfied with ignoring the fact that legalizing a service increases its availability. Marijuana dispensaries is a case-in-point with another activity that was long illegal and taboo. Maybe it is presumptuous to say that having an alternative solution is similar to having a solution. I.e., the logic goes like this: if there's a cure for HIV, then I don't need to worry about doing "X." If murder was legal, would I be humbled or emboldened? The saying about "two wrongs."

Similarly, the number of abortions performed decreases when abortion is restricted or made illegal. Several countries in Europe show this (ex: Poland). We can even see evidence in Texas as of recent - severely limiting a service, or banning it, means limiting services rendered. Decades ago, Bernard Nathanson lied about the number of illegal abortions to sway people in power. It created an illusion of crisis. Further, overturning Roe merely allows states to choose their own fate on the practice. The argument that making the practice illegal will only increase the practice illegally is inaccurate. Facts show the opposite. The same lie is believed today by people like Elizabeth Warren and virtually all other Democrats and a number of Republicans. 

In addition to the occult symbols in the film, the cult symbols that are more difficult to decipher point tragically to the true state of the world. The Keith Haring sign is an obvious allusion to HIV/AIDS which Sally says Domino has contracted. We know that sex workers are disproportionately affected by sexual diseases, infections, unwanted pregnancies, physical and sexual violence, drug abuse, etc. Of course, the film world of Eyes Wide Shut is evil. Because it always seems to insist that it is good. It is constantly deceiving us, confusing us, mesmerizing us. Tragically, the film is un-ironically and unambiguously reflecting an American and Western culture which seems to be getting sicker. The following taboos are rapidly becoming normalized: transgenderism, prostitution, pedophilia, abortion, euthanasia, drugs, authoritarianism, the occult, and all things sexual. The baby stroller, trash cans, faint sound of children's voices, red tinsel, and disappearance of Domino - in conjunction with the death of Lou Nathanson and subsequent lust of Marion - the cipher of Sally as "69," the doubleness of Lou/Bernard Nathanson, point ever downward. Sin and death, darkness and death, violence and death, sex and death. 

But I'm happy that Kubrick and his hired workers made Eyes Wide Shut. Good art is beautiful, but not all beautiful things make for good art. Few films, no, few directors, have offered works that warrant months and years of careful deciphering. But in all my exegeses of Kubrick's films, I've never been disappointed. 

Eyes Wide Crossed

Jokes aside, I created a diagram a few years ago when I started seriously analyzing Eyes Wide Shut. It helped me visualize the narrative arc of the film, which I realized was chiastic in form. I also considered the "arc" to be inverted; the climax is actually a descent. More on this later. It took me probably seven or eight viewings to grasp the fact that Bill re-visits many specific places in the second half of the film. It isn't perfectly symmetrical or anything, but it is more rather than less. Kubrick masterfully disguises or cloaks the scenes in familiarity, confusing the viewer. Clearly, as the Kubrick obsessives well know, the Rainbow is across the street from the Sonata Cafe, creating a bizarre time/story hole when Bill takes a taxi to the costume shop. It is too glaring to be considered accidental. An alternate explanation might have something to do with quantum physics and single entities existing in disparate locations. But that's as far as I'll go here. Far more significant is the basic contradictoriness of the Rainbow being "there" and "not there," because the same storefront is altered and disguised for other sequences in the film. In a way, this one city block is where "it all happens." 

Anyways, the fact remains that, to a large extent, Eyes Wide Shut follows a chiastic structure. This is what this post was intended to discuss. "Chiasmus" means "crossing." Chiasmus is used not infrequently in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments. The general idea is that if I say "1, 2, 3," then I must finish my statement by saying "3, 2, 1." In other words, the elements are symmetrical. In poetry, this may mean certain words or certain concepts are mirrored, beginning, middle, climax, and end. In film, and in Eyes especially, we see this in myriad ways. Analyzing the chiastic structure in the film is something I have largely abandoned due to time constraints and competing critical perspectives of greater interest. This analysis would probably take years. Unlike films such as Memento, that seem to follow a reverse chronological narrative and probably chiastic structuring, and seem to be made to be picked apart by critics, Eyes is deceptively simple to the point of being opaque or dull. It answers its own questions and leaves the viewer withdrawn and excluded. Until you start watching it. 

I did manage to begin one spreadsheet which attempted to note the major chiastic scenes, and their beginning and end times. From this point, the problems start. Where to begin? Consider: colors, words, sounds, tempos, settings, character emotions, etc. There is no simple way to categorize the artistic variables which are potentially mirrored in chiastic structure in Eyes Wide Shut. Shot by shot analyses such as those from Kearns are invaluable tools. But offering a neat or clean symmetrical, chiastic analysis is bordering on impossibly complex. Insert: Charliekellypepesilviameme.jpg. I can only imagine that Kubrick was the kind of mad genius who thought about these things and actually made great use of them. Below is the not totally accurate diagram.

 

For one, I decided to add an additional pair of scenes when working in the spreadsheet: Bill and Alice in bed. The couple in their bedroom is repeated twice, if not more. But, this depends on the idea of shot vs scene. Kubrick sometimes makes a scene out of dozens of shots, such as in the billiards room scene. Or, he may use a tracking shot or simple pivots to capture an otherwise significant scene. I wanted to take a "macro" view if possible, and note the general setting, since the specifics can be mesmerizing.  

So, whereas the first picture has only eight paired scenes, meaning sixteen total, a more accurate reading suggests nine paired scenes and eighteen in total. I admit I am biased towards the numbers 9 and 18, as both appear in Eyes as well as 2001, and possibly in others. But I would challenge the critic to find other major pairs or doubles. Once you start looking for doubles, they tend to multiply. Scenes that don't seem to have obvious doubles I've numbered as ".5," suggesting they are fractions within the "whole" order of scenes which have perfect doubles. I.e., the pairing of Bill and Domino and Bill and Sally is a great example of obvious duality, the former occurring before the midpoint, and the latter occurring after. The "singular" scenes I also numbered past 9, up to 15. Bill sitting in Sharky's cafe drinking a cappuccino doesn't have a double, unless we count Bill sitting in Gillespie's cafe, drinking coffee. The problem here is that this "doubling" occurs after the midpoint of the film, which creates the problem of asymmetry. Maybe this isn't a problem, though. It could, I admit, be read as a fraction within a fraction. I.e., like trying to measure a shoreline. One has to measure the rocks, and then account for the tide, etc. There's no absolute perimeter of an island, just as there is no absolute circumference of a bagel. A more accurate measurement relies on more accurate data. When you measure more accurate data, you gather more metadata. The initial measurement then becomes obscured by the fact of metadata and subsequent meta-metadata, casting great doubt on the notion of "measurement." The logical conclusion of this is probably relativism. Big numbers speak to small things, and small numbers to big things. Natura maxima miranda in minims, I was reading: nature is the greatest in the smallest things.

If Zeno's thought were any help, it might suggest that Bill "started" in the film like Achilles, trying to overtake the hare, only to realize that each moment moving forward created a new distance making it impossible to "overtake" the hare. The "hare" would be many things: Ziegler, Somerton, Alice, Nick, Domino, Sally, the Rainbow, etc. Bill seems to be racing against the entire world. While I wouldn't conclude that motion is impossible because of our necessarily traveling "infinite" spaces every time we take a step, I would say to the contrary that we cannot accurately quantify our own movements, that we cannot quantify time, and that these are interdependent entities. The arrow traveling through space does occupy a certain space-time, but, we cannot know what it is to be an arrow. We can only observe. Maybe the arrow possesses an experience of space-time, or maybe not. Maybe nature experiences space-time, or maybe not. These are theological and metaphysical issues, not scientific issues. Therefore we make abstract generalizations about its movement via language. I think it reasonable that Bill is having thoughts and memories that mirror each other, and that these are "speeding up" by the end of the film, paradoxically so, maybe. But this, too, is speculation. A good critic would look at the evolution of the false "flashback" imagining of Alice and the Sailor in Cape Cod having relations. The action accelerates each time the flashback comes, and, it is shorter or longer in duration. Again, haven't looked at this in depth, but suspect that there's doubleness to be found here too. 

On the initial infographic - I haven't included pictures or completed a deep analysis of the chiastic structure yet. When I noticed it, I immediately created the graphic. The locations may be too specific; for example, Bill is at Ziegler's after the first scene. B and B2 could simply be labeled "Ziegler's" to simplify this. Ziegler's billiards room then might be a secondary specific location which mirrors Ziegler's bathroom, a secondary location in "B." But, like I said, this level of detail can only be accomplished with a spreadsheet and likely hundreds of hours of work. Which I'm not sure I want to do. One reason I might not want to is simple: consider that I placed Red Cloak/Somerton at a low point, representing evil, and the underworld. Now, this also means that Bill's "ascent" returns him only to the same "plane" he was before. Maybe it's ignorance, maybe it's his being deceived by people he knows and loves. It's uncertain whether he has learned anything. I can't help but wonder whether the chiastic structure connotes the cross and the idea of persecution. I also can't help but see that, for the viewer, Somerton should actually be at a high point, as it more or less symbolizes the climax of the film in the middle. Maybe the billiards scene is the climax, but it merely points directly back to the center of the film and hence, the conflict: Somerton. In this way, we can also elevate Somerton. 

Sadly and strangely, this reveals some clues regarding the extent to which Freemasonry (or other secret societies) is being alluded to in the film. Seen this way, literally, we have the idea of an inversion taking place. In the film, the feeling is very much linear without depth or height; the ambiguity and aesthetic tone remains very consistent. But, reading the story, considering the "depths" to which Bill falls, I think we can see the halfway point as an absolute low point. The sad irony is that, for these societies or groups, run by the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world, as is suggested by Victor, this is the high point. I think of the words in Philippians 3:19: "Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things." Mostly, the last two lines speak volumes about false or idolatrous worship, about disordered devotion. 

But man is not an end in himself. Masons may disagree. Secular humanists may disagree. Atheists may disagree. Malthusians and climate hysterics may disagree. And this, too, is the point. The point is materialism. Matter as the only certainty, and this one certainty elevated irrationally to the end of deification in the setting of the occult. Yet, we have to be careful here, too. Kubrick may have shown us the occult, be he also showed us the cult. Cult is public, unlike occult, which is kept hidden. The real puzzle here is deciphering what is cult and what is occult. Unsurprisingly, this is difficult to do, as the premise of Eyes so often seems to be that the cult is actually occult, and the occult is cult! Again, this may lead us back to the idea of inversion, of high and low, "as above, so below," as certain occultists say. 

I also can't help but notice the weird black and blue shadows on the wall above the stairs. The wall basically a down-pointing triangle positioned directly above an up-pointing stairway. In the same way as my experimental diagram, we seem to have a crossing of "above" and "below." 

The masonic logo incorporates a triangle and an inverted triangle. Imagined this way, we would see a Star of David in this logo.

And in this way, unhealthy conspiracy theories could abound. On this I can't offer much more, other than that these are some very curious notions that do not simply go away with the neutralizing of narrative chiastic structure. I.e., if we supposed that the story of Eyes has no climax, no descent, no ascent, then we could unsee the triangular form. But this would be unnatural, indeed, contrary to human intuition.

If we inverted the ascent and descent, we would see the above form. Notice that the "returns" do not happen exactly in order. But, it seems that "3, 2, 1" actually do occur in that order. It is important to note that the "toy shop" is not the Harford residence. But this all depends upon what we mean by "toy shop" and "residence," and "toy," and "holiday," and "gift," and "family," "marriage," "daughter, " etc. Again, Helena wants to watch The Nutcracker at home in 1., but is shopping for Christmas presents in a toy store in 1.2. So, this is a mirror, as one can imagine the Nutcracker dolls, the Christmas theme, etc. Again, with 2., we have "Ziegler's ball," which is a tongue-in-cheek way of saying "Ziegler's pool balls" when referring to the pool table in 2.2. The billiards table itself symbolizing Somerton, and the balls symbolizing the victims of the "magic circle," we realize that this is very much symmetrical insofar as the holiday ball was full of strange people, included a near-death, lust, etc. Ziegler's bathroom as 3 also involves an interesting transformation: when Bill is in the morgue in 3.2, Mandy is dead. Mandy is simply overdosed in 3, while Ziegler is there with them. In 3.2 Mandy is dead, eyes open, while Ziegler is absent. Bill is present both times. But, shortly after Bill leaves the morgue room, he receives a call from Ziegler. It's almost as if Ziegler needs to show his face. 

And I never thought of this before: Bill is attending to Mandy's body like Marion is attending to Lou's. The difference is that Marion calls Bill, but Bill receives a call from Ziegler. A topic for another post.

Disease and prophecy

1.

In the latter half of Eyes Wide Shut Bill returns to Domino's apartment. On the wall in the lobby area is a "for sale" sign with the name "Keith Haring" in all-caps. 

 

Keith Haring is the name of a New York City-based artist whose rise to fame in the 1980s was cut short by his death from HIV/AIDS. I realize this detail has been noted before, so I'll try to shed light on other less-touched-upon connections in relation to it.

Haring enjoyed acquaintanceships with Basquiat, Warhol, and countless other esteemed artists and counter-cultural figures, and was an advocate for gay rights. Some of Haring's inspirations include Dr. Seuss and Walt Disney cartoons, pop art, and graffiti. He was 31 when he died in 1990 from complications from HIV/AIDS. "31" may be the first obvious connection less talked about: it is a visual mirror of "13." 

This crafted sign is a subtle but literal, tongue-in-cheek example of "writing on the wall" that Bill is (tragically) unable to see. Haring, as a symbol, foreshadows the next scene: Domino is gone, but Sally, her roommate, is home. This reversal from the first visit, when Domino is home and Sally is away, might suggest the difference between Domino and Sally. The Introducing Sociology textbook seen on the dresser below the mirror when Bill answers Alice's phone call might point to Domino or Sally's status as a student. I think it also points to the tense relation between Bill and Alice. Bill is obviously hiding things from Alice, and we almost suspect that Alice knows it. 

Sally appears younger, maybe more studious, in comparison to Domino. But, both are smart and careful. Sally seems to be assuming that Bill and Domino had relations, and she holds back. She turns down Bill's flirtatious advances, explaining that Domino has tested HIV positive. The diagnosis foreshadows the newspaper line "Lucky to be alive," as in, HIV is the harbinger of death, and Bill has managed to evade it. Luckily. The smile on Bill's face when he speaks with Sally is disturbing - unlike Domino who relies on sex for an income, Bill dabbles freely in prostitution but escapes unscathed. 

Bill didn't anticipate Domino's absence, or her disease. But again, the layers: Domino's unfortunate absence is a suggestion of her looming death, if not a literal placement of death-as-human-absence. Also, Domino's salacious presence earlier in the film can actually signal Bill's descent towards the nadir that is Somerton at the half-way point of the film. It has been noted that there are no Christmas trees or decorations at the mansion. Many of the Christmas lights being multi-colored, resembling a rainbow, it could be suggested that Somerton is "where the rainbow ends," i.e., the supposed place where Nuala and Gayle want to take Bill at Victor's annual ball. Bill is hesitant, saying it "depends where that is." Nuala and Gayle press on, saying "let's find out." Bill exercises caution then, but later, with Nick, he exercises no caution. Even when it is a man, and not two women, who is luring him. This just goes into another thesis about the representation of women and how Bill's pursuit stems more from a masculine(?) drive to prove himself than from a feminine drive for pleasure. The women at Somerton are obviously stripped of personality and authentic being, reduced to idols or objects. The irony being that the many female roles are deeply personable, authentic, and seemingly a threat to Bill's masculinity: Alice and daughter Helena - Bill has no sons and apparently no doctor buddies. Nick says he's married with four boys - five men and one woman suggests a more masculine identity. Ziegler is married but obviously a philanderer whose masculine identity exists only through his wealth. He wouldn't personally lay a hand on Bill, but his secret guards might. 

Anyways, speaking of guards, one of Victor's guards interrupts Bill's conversation with the two models, leading Bill up the twisting staircase. The fact that Mandy appears in the next scene might suggest that Somerton is indeed where Nuala and Gayle want to take Bill, since Mandy will also be there. Ziegler's bathroom, if I recall, is not festive - it is cold and echoey. 

Domino has been discarded along the way, just like Mandy Curran and Nick Nightingale. Regarding Nick, one very overlooked deception occurs when an unnamed masked guard at Somerton alerts Bill that his taxi driver wants a word with him. The two begin walking, but the camera cuts to a different guard leading blindfolded Nick Nightingale through a ballroom with partially-clothed couples dancing, and down a corridor. The camera cuts back to the Bill and the other guard, who arrive not at the "door," but back in the great hall, where Red Cloak and the masked attendees/observers are assembled, just like when Bill first entered, except that there is no music or obvious "ritual," and they are specifically awaiting his arrival. Although it could be argued that Bill's unmasking is a ritual in itself of which he is not aware. This may be a ritual of humiliation. There's something medieval and sinister about Bill's "trial" and eventual unmasking. The crowds whisper violently, like a theater audience, as the trial proceeds. 

We don't see Nick seated at his keyboard back in the apse, so it seems Ligeti's theme is non-diegetic. The music is imaginary, perhaps playing in Bill's mind. This is somewhat interesting given that Pook's "Masked Ball" feels entirely non-diegetic, meaning, overlaid upon the film, and not coming from within the film itself. But, we see Nick, and take it that he is maybe playing along to a pre-recorded track. This feels cheap and phony, but it's certainly realistic. On the other hand, Ligeti's theme music is so subtle and fitting that it functions as a character in itself. I've often read it as the presence of fear, suspense, panic, or anxiety. The notes also mimic the stalker's footsteps when he follows Bill. So, the music, again, is a presence, like the sound of footsteps which insinuate a character. Ligeti's theme may even point to Nick's exit from Somerton, in which he, the piano player, is being followed out of the mansion - footsteps. 

2. 

Though effective treatments for HIV/AIDS were discovered in the late 1990s, the epidemic had been politicized for nearly two decades prior, causing widespread public panic. The word "paranoia" could also be used in place of "panic:" though the disease disproportionately affected (and affects) homosexual men, sex workers, and heroin abusers, key aspects of detection and prevention were thwarted on behalf of AIDS activists who lobbied to prevent the FDA from approving a home-use HIV test. HIV/AIDS testing had become politicized - a result of identity politics and fear - leading to it's stigmatization, while condoms were hailed as a new cure-all. In the defense of sufferers, however, involuntary quarantine was seen as a possible threat with draconian undertones: deportation, indefinite isolation, and in effect, imprisonment, all seemed to be on the table. Fear of the consequences of being infected accelerated the fear of being tested. In fact, Communist Cuba enacted a forced quarantine of all HIV/AIDS sufferers that lasted at least eight years, or until the USSR dissolved along with its Cuba funds. Supposedly, this wasn't the full extent of terror: the totalitarian Cuban government targeted "effeminate" men, and those suspected of being homosexual, and deported them to labor camps against their will. Strangely, or not, it was not until 2012 that the ban on home-HIV tests was dropped in the US. Many lives could have been saved, and lifespans extended. 

After Bill leaves Sally's apartment, he realizes he is being followed by the bald man in the tan coat. It has been noted that the same man - or his double - appears earlier in the film, at a table right-front of stage at the Sonata Cafe where Nick Nightingale is playing. Here's a problem: if the spy is at the Sonata Cafe long before Bill makes the potentially-fatal error of appearing at Somerton, is the bald man's presence considered fate or chance? At a symbolic level, the spy and spied-upon being in the same place suggests foreshadowing. Bill is seated higher than the spy, suggesting that Bill is the one in a position to spy on others. His appearance at the Sonata is in itself a suggestion that he is spying on his old friend, Nick. And certainly, Bill overtly peeks at a secret password intended only for Nick and other invited party-goers. Regardless, Bill is not the greatest spy.

It could be that the spy has been sent to follow Bill before Bill makes his clumsy appearance at Somerton. Why? Victor admits he had Bill followed, but he doesn't say when he gave this order. He says he had Bill followed after admitting he knew he showed up at Nick's hotel. Victor certainly seems to have an issue with Nick Nightingale - he calls him a "prick" and "cocksucker." It seems likely the stalker was also tracking Nick's movements. It could be that Victor's private intelligence had been given the go ahead to follow Bill once he approached Nick at Ziegler's party. Their short conversation is interrupted by a bodyguard who leads Nick away. Bill is interrupted twice at Ziegler's party, and at least two times at Somerton (the Columbus-masked man, and the guard). It could be a sort of contractual arrangement between Nick and Victor which prohibits Nick from conversing or socializing. Later, at the Sonata, Nick says to Bill, "I just play the piano," when referring to the secret performance. Indeed, this could indicate that the spy is primarily watching Nick, not Bill. Perhaps, when Nick walks away at Ziegler's party, he confesses to Victor and his personal KGB what he and Bill discussed. Of course, maybe Ziegler made a phone call first thing upon learning Bill was at Somerton - send a guy out and watch his movements as he leaves the mansion. This is believable enough and leads us back to the idea that the spy was following Nick, initially. 

The notion of the "panopticon" comes into play, as does the connotation of the Stasi or KGB (Soviet secret police). Bill is virtually imprisoned by Ziegler's omnipresence (like HAL). The simplest reading is that Bill is being watched in the beginning, and at the end - he is always being watched. I also read this is a way of hinting at another duality: heaven and earth. The camera on the gates of Somerton (hell) is high above Bill but represents something very sinister and dark. 

Maybe the spy is watching Nick, or maybe he's watching Bill, too. If Bill is paranoid, imagine Victor's evil reality - he can't trust his friends, his pianist, or himself. For example, when Bill enters the bathroom, he is confident and cool. Victor is the one who looks nervous and fearful ("scared child" before the painting of the pregnant woman). By the end, the tables have turned, and Bill is doubtful, while Ziegler is in charge. 

3. 

I wanted to keep this post short, but I find Eyes Wide Shut far too fascinating to attempt to gloss over. One very unsettling but seemingly innocuous fact is that Bill's long night of adventures (or misadventures) rests on the assumption that he is at the Nathanson apartment until four in the morning. 

Is it possible that Alice knows about the blonde Marion Nathanson, the daughter of Bill's elderly patient? The more unsettling thing is that by the time Bill gets home and discovers Alice laughing violently in her sleep, he maybe realizes that he hasn't fooled her. Of course, she is laughing at Bill in her dream, but the situation is different. If Bill doesn't realize she's asleep, then it seems Alice is laughing at his attempts not only to fabricate a story, but to pursue infidelities. Again, it seems Alice is not fooled by his story, nor by any suggestion that he has truly achieved any infidelities. This, in a moment, crystallizes the idea of Bill's emasculation. Even if he could have an affair, which he can, he can't commit to the act. There's a cruelty there that Alice seems to be more familiar with, and which Bill is more afraid of. 

We see this in Alice's dream: the orgy she describes mirrors what Bill has just witnessed at the mansion, playing a cruel game with Bill's mind. The question is: was Alice there? What if it had been Alice, wearing only a mask, in one of the libraries, or dining rooms, or parlors at the Somerton mansion, having relations with countless unknown men? So in fact she was there, because Bill can't determine whether Alice's dream was a Freudian example of "wish fulfillment," or whether it was an absurd nightmare. Maybe her tears are only an act of shame, and her dream is a representation of what she truly desires. Perhaps her dream is honest, but she unconsciously reacts with shame upon waking. In an inverse manner, Bill has witnessed an actual massive orgy but has also been unmasked, humiliated, and made to feel guilt or shame over his actions. 

Alice's indiscretions are insidious in that they are one step ahead of Bill's. If Bill is hurt by Alice's first confession, this is understandable. But he should be reassured by her call which serves as a hindrance to any precoital passions experienced with Domino. Had it not been for house-wife Alice calling him, perhaps Bill and Domino would have consummated their chance meeting, and Bill would likely have contracted HIV. In this way, it is practically suggested that Alice has some sort of omniscient power. 

Her dream (after Bill arrives home) suggests that she saw what Bill saw. Her call suggests that she is acting not only in Bill's best interest, but in her own, in that, we can figure that if Bill slept with Domino, he would eventually make love to Alice, passing on the disease to her. Alice not only wants to protect Bill, but herself, and Bill is something of a conduit of herself - sadly, it could be argued that she owns him, that she truly controls him. But, if this is so, does not this represent love absolute - laying down one's life for another? True, except that Alice may be cunning enough to hide her selfishness. The problem with all of this is that Bill and Alice are walking an extremely thin line between safety and danger, and they don't see it - or at least, Bill doesn't. This fact supports the disturbing theory that Alice is the true puppet master, and not Victor. Regardless, the newspaper headline seems to be a central truth of the story: Bill (and Alice, and perhaps Helena too) are "lucky to be alive."

The newspaper headline "Lucky to be Alive" symbolizes at least two instances in which Bill escapes fate: by abstaining from relations with Domino, and, by being pardoned for his trespassing at Somerton. 

But that's not all: the caption below the image in the newspaper tells of a bank robber named Anthony Norman who staged a hostage crisis at the Wyandanch Station of the Long Island Rail Road. 

The name "Anthony Norman" seems oddly familiar. One possibility follows: the name of actor Anthony Perkins can be conjoined with the first name of oedipal-complex killer, Norman Bates, the character whom the former played in Alfred Hitchcock's classic 1960 horror film, Psycho. The name in the newspaper is formed of the two first names of the actor and character, respectively. This may be pure coincidence, but there are more interesting cinematic connections. Perkins, who could pass for Kafka's dark Irish double, in fact played Josef K in Orson Welles' 1962 adaptation of Kafka's The Trial. Only two years after Psycho, and Perkins embodies another victim in a very different horror. Bill Harford's "trial" is at times similar to K's. The bakery next to Domino's apartment, named Josef Kreibich Knish Bakery, is a veiled reference to Josef K, and Kafka, as well a veiled reference to Jewishness. The latter film obviously has a Jewish connotation, while the former is less known. Nathan Abrams writes that Psycho was based on the 1959 novel of the same name by Robert Bloch. The story is based on Ed Gein, the real-life serial killer inspired partly by heinous Nazi crimes (ex: furniture or clothing made from human body parts). Bloch himself and many key figures involved in the production of the film were Jews, and the Freudian aspects obviously owe much to the contentious Jewish-Viennese psychoanalyst. Vienna takes us back to Schnitzler, Freud's supposed double. 

The name, Anthony Norman, seemed oddly familiar the first time I looked closely at the newspaper story. So, I read further: in real life, Perkins spent much of his life in homosexual relationships, though he married Berinthia Berenson, the model and photographer, in 1973 at age 41. Berenson claimed patrilineal Jewish heritage. Abrams also writes that "Norman" was an Anglo name adopted by immigrant Jews in America, the reason being it sounded neutral and normal, and not Jewish. In the semi-fictional news story, Anthony Norman is the name of a bank robber. So, there's a connotation of criminality. Again, being a Jew was borderline criminal for a very long time in Europe; being homosexual is still and was taboo and illegal in many places in the west. "Anthony Norman," at some level, plays at some taboo notion of ultra-criminality - a bank robber, possibly a Jew, possibly gay. Bill is paranoid when he realizes he is being followed - he doesn't know why he is being followed, and he doesn't know which aspect of his character or behavior is being scrutinized, hence the paranoia. 

Perkins was diagnosed HIV positive in 1990 and died two years later, or seven years before the release of Eyes Wide Shut. Berenson died aboard American Airlines Flight 11 during the September 11 terror attacks in New York, 2001, two years after the release of Eyes Wide Shut. 

R.I.P., L.W.

Not too long ago, somewhat bored, watching The Shining (or, not watching, but, rather, trying to "see"), I happened to notice something rather surprising. Having spent the long winter months reading various theological texts in conjunction (and in their own right) with the philosophical writings of L. Wittgenstein, some of the philosopher's questions have stuck in my mind (like mold, or, no, more like a pleasant lichen). Needless to say, entering into the Kubrickian universe, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. To the contrary, Kubrick's films - The Shining in particular - deal heavily in the promulgation of powerful imagery. I only hope my findings are not ordinary and underwhelming.

Let's consider the encounter with Danny and Tony in the mirror. The dialogue happens thus:

Danny: Tony, why don't you want to go to the hotel?

Tony: I don't know.

Danny: You do to know, now, come on, tell me.

Tony: I don't want to.

Danny: Please? ...

Tony: No.

Danny: Now Tony, tell me.

This dialogue ends somewhat abruptly, followed by a montage that Danny "shines." Below is the sequence of shots (1. Danny transfixed; 2. Blood comes through elevator doors; 3. Shot of the Grady twins; 4. Blood floods room and covers camera; 5. fade to black; 6. Psychologist examining Danny's eyes [or mouth?] after he evidently passes out. 

The camera zooms in to Danny in the mirror's image speaking to "Tony," the imaginary friend who lives in Danny's mouth for the duration of the dialogue. We should draw attention to the detail that Tony lives in Danny's mouth if we want to make full use of any references to Wittgenstein. Danny's eyes grow wide with fear (or wonder) after the last line and the scene cuts to a slow-motion shot of the elevator doors being flooded with what is a blood-like substance (the script, I think, says "blood," but, whatever). It occurs to me the ingenuity of this cut when I seem to recall something Wittgenstein said about what can be shown or told. The actual line is this, from his early "logical positivist" work, Tractatus:

    4.1212 What can be shown cannot be said.

So, what? Tony shows Danny his reason for not wanting to go to the hotel. He doesn't tell Danny. Showing is not the same as telling. We can't really describe what happens when we see Danny's vision. There is far too much happening, and far too much developed in the story thus far to provide a frame of reference, besides. This is the power of what can be "shown." 

Literally, Tony disobeys Danny by showing him why he doesn't want to go to the hotel. Danny wants to be told an ostensibly simple answer, but instead, receives a complex and frightening vision. This in itself proves that "showing" and "telling" are not the same. Notably - and I love this, on more reflection - we do not see foreshadowing of later events via literal re-cutting of the same film. We don't see Jack chasing Danny, or killing Dick, etc. We see creative, abstract, symbolic imagery that never "occurs" outside of the context of Danny's mind. Arguably, we say the images are all "true," or at least, semblances of what is true. Blood is spilled, the daughters "were" killed (or, "are" killed in the context of the telling of The Shining story itself in real time), Danny is terrified, etc. Yet, we never see these images actually take place. Obviously, some of these events are past, which makes sense. This must mean that Tony is worried or upset about what has already happened. This is very interesting, and supports the theory that the Overlook is timeless, or outside of time. 

Again, consider L.W.'s observations when thinking about Danny's expression. "Danny is terrified," we might say, but, we can't be satisfied with this. It looks as if Danny has seen Satan himself, or pure evil - something he has never seen. The look is not merely "terror." At the same time, the fact that Danny's face mirrors the elevator doors is a detail too disturbing to put into words: is Danny going to be "sacrificed?" Is the blood Danny's? Is it a coincidence? Does Danny understand this? Is he still looking into the mirror? Etc. Furthermore, contrasted with the well-lit bathroom scene, in which Danny almost seems hypnotized or "seduced" (which is creepy enough), the following shot of Danny's shrieking face is worth far too many words. 

It is interesting that Tony chooses to "reveal" to Danny why he does not want to come to the hotel. I admit I've never read King's novel, so I can't comment on the degree to which this scene is faithful to the events in the novel (if at all). Regardless, Kubrick's film is a creative work in its own right. And, we must consider that, at least in the filmic version of this encounter, Danny is speaking to Tony, who, mysteriously, lives in Danny's mouth. Tony lives in Danny's mouth. When Danny speaks to Tony, though, Danny also voices Tony. Again, I haven't read the novel, but from the film alone we can imagine notions like demonic possession - a demon overtaking Danny's speech and thought. Danny's voice is Tony speaking: Tony has taken control of Danny's body. Maybe. If this were the case, then Tony's home in Danny's mouth could be significant: Tony may be conscious of all of Danny's language. He may listen to Danny's words, and thoughts, for that matter. 

Another consideration: Tony lives in Danny's mouth, yes, just as speech lives in the body. We then must ask: who is speaking? Later in the movie, it is obvious that "Tony" overtakes Danny - most memorably in the "Redrum" scene. But, then this duality is one that we've already learned is problematic for Danny, Tony having been created only after the first time Jack abused him physically. Tony is an escape - a separate entity that eventually is given power over Danny's true identity - and this is evident in his speech. 

The twins (who are arguably the "true" victims in relation to the image of the bleeding elevator) flash for a second or near-second amid the bloody-elevator, followed by a shot of Danny in agony. The shot of Danny ties back pareidolically to the elevator, but also thematically, arguably, to Dave Bowman in the space-pod in 2001. This may be a bit of a coincidence, an intertextual similarity, or, it may be, as some have argued, a thematic similarity in the hypothetical seven-part series of 20th century life on earth that was Kubrick's last seven films. The theme would be: the modern, isolated individual. But more on this later.

It is especially funny given that these stills "randomly" inserted into the psychedelic star-gate sequence were not really "random," but were functional, serving the purpose of connecting the star-gate film strips. Yet, even if it was functional, the still shot obviously creates a break in the action, and offers a sort of hyper-meditative glimpse into Dave's cosmic exile. Clearly, Kubrick intentionally repeated this method with Danny's visions in The Shining, offering shots of the twins, or of the bleeding elevator, and more, to condense (or expand) the visual narrative. It seems these stills were not functional, but were/are indeed, powerful symbolic images advancing a narrative. Danny "shines" several times, and if I'm not mistaken, each time features the same still-shot "flashes" which fragment the montage. Not to go too deep down a rabbit-hole, but, these breaks in some ways are far more powerful at asserting a character's presence than by speech/dialogue alone. In other words, the fear or agony or terror Danny feels because of his ability to "shine" is best explained by showing us what he sees. This is an incredible and maybe banal tool in filmmaking that we could never hope to possess on earth - to actually see what/how someone else sees. 

Arguably, the images Danny sees aren't ordinary images, or scenes which we would readily imagine. Hence these images strengthen the idea of the individual, before they tell us about the supernatural, or other-worldly. In other words, the individual is whoever experiences the world as it is. It happens that, where words (and images) would often fail a character like Danny, a child, Kubrick sees this separation as an opportunity to show the actuality of Danny's seemingly childish fits and moods (it follows that there are images and scenes Danny witnesses which we, the audience, do not see, and we can only imagine what he might be seeing - not that we'd want to).

To the extent that we can say Danny's cut-screen and Dave's cut-screen are similar, we should also note the differences. One theory on the difference in positioning may be that Danny's horror is real/psychological whereas Dave's horror is cosmological/technological. There's also the sense that Danny's face is what the mirror sees, what "Tony" sees, and this is why he is seen full frontal. Dave Bowman's face is contorted due to the technological shortcomings of the pod on its mission to Jupiter, or at least, I think, this, in conjunction with travel in deep-space. I think it is said that Keir Dullea actually forced his body to shake under pressure when being filmed, with no outside-agitation present. And finally, there's something different here given the nature of the source of the horror: in The Shining, we know that the "former" caretaker murdered his family with an axe and shot himself. We might form an image of this if we thought about it.

But, in 2001 we have no reference for the horrors of space travel, let alone, to a planet as distant as Jupiter. These horrors are shown to us in the final segment, just as the horrors of the Outlook Hotel are revealed in real-time throughout the film. These horrors are imaginable, cognizable, not psychedelic; Kubrick leaves the horrors of space speculative. Light, color, form, stand in place for what is un-sayable, or, un-showable. And this is fine. What is showable, here, is equated with what is indescribable. Surely unsurprising to readers of his work, Wittgenstein made many remarks on color. Consider the excerpt from On Certainty:

    126. I am not more certain of the meaning of my words than I am of certain judgments. Can I doubt   that this colour is called "blue"? (My) doubts form a system.

[I think] what L.W. is saying is that I judge the perception of "blue" things by referring to them by their name, i.e., "blue." Now, this point is not really about color, but, we could say that there is no "explaining" a sensation like "blue" beyond the fact that whatever "blue" is, it is represented by the word-name "blue." This agrees with the sensation, unless someone has eyes that see more teal than blue, or more blue than green, and then we find it curious that someone says a blue t-shirt is teal. Since color-blindness is not color anarchy, we are surprised by these minor disagreements between judgment and word-meaning. But, assuming we are not color-blind, we do not ask a person what color their eyes are as we look into them. 

Dave Bowman's experience of horror reads as a horror which is interior and abstract. The problem is that we know it isn't - for he is likely the first and last person traveling through deep space alone. But, because we know this is an unknown, something about which we can only speculate, this creates an opportunity for the filmmaker and/or audience to "imagine" this horror. That this horror is "unimaginable" or "unconscionable" is arguably plausible: we lose sense of scale with the star-gate sequence - where are we? Who are we? The strange baroque room is our "saving grace" for human intelligibility. To be continued.

The horrors of The Shining, whether it be the axe-killings, or, the allusions to the Holocaust, Native American genocide, etc., are all "of this world." They are known, they are present, or past, but they are fleshy and "ordinary." The horrors of space remain abstract, matters for which we have no reference. It is quite interesting how we, the viewer, become a surrogate of Danny, the innocent viewer or passenger, whose clairvoyance affords us the vision of "things to come." This is clear, given that Danny is a child, that he cannot really choose to be somewhere else but with his parents, etc. In a similar way, Kubrick subordinates us to be the mere viewers or witnesses of a particular apocalyptic vision. But then again, what is film worth if not viewed, not critiqued, not discussed? An exegesis of Kubrick's work is an exegesis of our world - and that is what makes our task so difficult, yet so satisfying.