Tuesday, August 23, 2016

The City (1939): A World's Fair City of the Future



Lately we have been watching documentaries proposing a new "sustainable" city where human and nonhuman nature can live interdependently. The premise of these films is that nature is necessary, not only because its resources help us meet our basic needs; but also because communing with nature provides emotional benefits.   

Urbanized (2011)


The 2007 documentary The Sustainable City, highlights how sustainable architecture (green architecture) aims to minimize the negative impact of buildings on the environment by enhancing efficiency and moderating the use of materials, energy, and space. The short-lived PBS series, Design E2 (2007-2009) profiles a variety of sustainable urban programs around the world, for example. Urbanized (2011) showcases multiple ways to create livable and environmentally friendly cities, especially in affluent Western countries. Yet none of these documentaries explores the documentary history underpinning their arguments. Instead of making new assertions, these documentaries (and others from the last decade) primarily seem to expand on the arguments made in The City, a 1939 New Deal documentary produced for the City of the Future exhibit at the World's Fair in New York City. 



Like more recent documentaries, The City contrasts the horrors of urban blight with the possibilities of a sustainable "green" city of the future. The documentary follows a historical sequence that showcases a variety of locations. The film begins in an idyllic rural 18th Century New England community where children commune with the natural world but moves quickly into the industrial City of Smoke prompted by modernization and the industrial revolution.





Pittsburgh serves as the model hell hole portrayed in this segment. From the 19th Century City of Smoke, the documentary moves into the Metropolis of Manhattan for the Men into Steel segment that highlights the isolation humanity feels in the vast modern city.




Car culture underpins the next segment, The Highway: The Endless City, in which commuters from New York and New Jersey suburbs battle traffic congestion.



The last segment, The Green City, provides an antidote to these horrific portraits of the city. With film footage from Greenbelt, Maryland and Radburn, New Jersey--two New Deal small cities that stress interdependence with the natural world, local food production, and community.



Although recent documentaries suggest the sustainable city is a 21st Century ideal, The City illustrates its roots in The Green City and Lewis Mumford's urban plans. 



Monday, August 15, 2016

Stranger Things (2016-) and The Nest (1988)





After finishing the first season of Stranger Things (2016-) on Netflix, I was impressed with the stylish homages to 1980s films from Spielberg (Poltergeist, E.T., Jaws, Close Encounters, etc.) and John Carpenter (Halloween, The Thing, etc.) (among others), as well as the novels of Stephen King. We see overt references to Cujo in one scene, and the logo broaches Christine. State Trooper O'Bannons name also references Alien, written by Dan O'Bannon, and Chief Hooper's name broaches Predator. These are just a few of the homages in the series, but they also point to one of the touch points for horror--monstrous nature. Much of Stranger Things draws on skeptical views of science found in horror and sci fi films, highlighting a mad scientist and monster created by his flawed experiments. The wooded "Indiana" (shot in Georgia) setting amplifies its themes, especially when the "underneath" space is introduced. These same monstrous nature ideas are explored explicitly in another 1980s film--The Nest (1988)



The Nest explores the possible disastrous consequences of a biological experiment that turns roaches into flesh-eating fiends. The Nest copies Alien (1979) with its focus on the corporate science connection, ultimately leading to the discovery of a queen and her brood hidden deep in a cave outside an idyllic California coastal town. The film serves as a warning against genetic modifications of cockroaches, a transformation that turns bugs into horrifically anthropomorphized monsters. Negative associations with the insects heighten their monstrous qualities as they take center stage from the film’s opening until its closing denouement. These cockroaches are first established as pests that must be eradicated but transform into monsters that may ultimately destroy humanity instead. 



The film opens in the small harbor town of North Port where Sheriff Richard Tarbell’s (Franc Luz) switchboard officer has been getting strange calls about missing animals, calls that are immediately connected to insects when Tarbell finds a cockroach in his coffee at a diner counter. The presence of cockroaches is also reinforced when the librarian reveals that something—mice or insects—has eaten all of the binding out of her library books. The central cockroach drama, however, intertwines with a subplot of the film, a love triangle Tarbell creates between himself and two women, the diner’s owner Lillian (Nancy Morgan) and his previous girlfriend Elizabeth (Lisa Langlois). The reigniting of Tarbell and Elizabeth’s romance begins to solve the mystery broached by the cockroach evidence. When Elizabeth takes a walk toward the hideout of their youth, she finds a “no trespassing” sign labeled “Intec Development.” A German Shepherd’s cries of agony stop her, and when she reaches him, his flesh has been eaten down to the bone. Tarbell investigates and retrieves something that looks like insect droppings on the dog, yet village mayor Elias urges Tarbell to hold off on searching the Intec property for more evidence. He claims Intec is building condominiums to bring revenue to the island. 



The Nest also constructs scientists as monsters when Intec sends an entomologist, Dr. Morgan Hubbard (Terri Treas), to the island to examine the devoured dog. Dr. Morgan serves as a typical representative of the inhuman and perhaps “mad” scientist seen in most classic monster movies. Dr. Hubbard’s response to these incidents emphasizes the negative portrait of science and scientists in the film. Instead of the fear felt by the rest of the community, Dr. Hubbard seems enamored by the roaches and explicitly anthropomorphizes them. For example, when the cockroaches attack a trapped cat, she exclaims, “very brave, very strange creatures,” a point emphasized by the few predators that can threaten the cockroach. These strengths add to the town’s danger but also draw on cockroach mythology. 



Because they have been genetically modified in an Intec lab, the roaches have developed new powers, more concretely illustrating human and god-like qualities associated with them. Because she has produced them, Dr. Hubbard embraces these new superior but deadly qualities, naming them nymph cockroaches. She lauds their ability to reproduce without the contributions of male counterparts, but when she puts her gloved hand near them in a large lab container, they quickly bite it, highlighting their move from human prey to predator. As a “mad” scientist, however, she seems sexually excited by the mangling of her hand, refusing to remove it until Elias pulls it out before the roaches devour it. Despite these warning signs, Dr. Hubbard tells Elias she can control the roaches and asks for twenty-four hours to solve the problem. 


Beth’s examination of Elias’s papers begins to reveal the truth about these cockroaches’ genetic alteration. Instead of condos, Intec has built a research facility where, according to Hubbard, her experiments are benevolent rather than destructive and meant to create cockroaches that will destroy all other roaches and then die without reproducing. Instead the cockroaches have grown so powerful that even a lethal pesticide can’t destroy them. A solution arises when they realize the roaches have become social animals and must have a nest and a queen to guide them.



The final sinister scenes of the movie emphasize a possible solution to the horror of this now monstrous nature. As Beth explains, if they destroy the caves, they will destroy the nest, suggesting that if they destroy the horror setting, the monstrous insect horror will also disappear. The roaches all go toward the queen in the caves like “a collective unconscious,” making an overt connection to an anthropomorphized cockroach mythology. In the cave where the nest is hidden, Dr. Hubbard is destroyed by a roach figure built out of multiple human skeletons. Tarbell and Beth escape the cave before it explodes, and the two kiss, an ending that perhaps satisfactorily resolves the insect conflict in the film but leaves gaps in the love triangle connecting with it. In The Nest, both science and the cockroach become monstrous, but only the bugs and the mad scientist die, perhaps signifying the need to destroy our worst selves. In Stranger Things, science also destroys.








Thursday, August 11, 2016

Our New Book Released! Monstrous Nature: Environment and Horror on the Big Screen


Monstrous Nature: Environment and Horror on the Big Screen

Robin L. Murray and Joseph K. Heumann



Link to the book page for orders:  

Godzilla, a traditional natural monster and representation of cinema’s subgenre of natural attack, also provides a cautionary symbol of the dangerous consequences of mistreating the natural world—monstrous nature on the attack. Horror films such as Godzilla invite an exploration of the complexities of a monstrous nature that humanity both creates and embodies.

Robin L. Murray and Joseph K. Heumann demonstrate how the horror film and its offshoots can often be understood in relation to a monstrous nature that has evolved either deliberately or by accident and that generates fear in humanity as both character and audience. This connection between fear and the natural world opens up possibilities for ecocritical readings often missing from research on monstrous nature, the environment, and the horror film.

Organized in relation to four recurring environmental themes in films that construct nature as a monster—anthropomorphism, human ecology, evolution, and gendered landscapes—the authors apply ecocritical perspectives to reveal the multiple ways nature is constructed as monstrous or in which the natural world itself constructs monsters. This interdisciplinary approach to film studies fuses cultural, theological, and scientific critiques to explore when and why nature becomes monstrous.

Praise for the book:

“From cannibals to cockroaches, Robin L. Murray and Joseph K. Heumann fill a major gap in the field with this wide-ranging treatment of horror in ecocinema. Scholarship of this kind contributes tremendously to the expansion of ecocriticism from the study of ‘literature’ per se to the understanding of how environmental themes, such as anthropomorphism and gendered landscapes, occur in visual culture.”—Scott Slovic, coeditor of Numbers and Nerves: Information, Emotion, and Meaning in a World of Data 

“Compelling. . . . Clear and meticulous. Another tremendous contribution to the field of ecocinema studies.”—Stephen Rust, coeditor of Ecocinema Theory and Practice

“[Readers] will find in this new book solid scholarship, broad research in the cinematic references necessary to approach the topics, and insightful analysis and juxtaposition of films . . . all contributing to our understanding of how ‘horror’ is among us now in the very real prospects of violent and sudden climate change.”—Charles J. Stivale, editor of Gilles Deleuze: Key Concepts