Chariot Magazine Pieces in 1994 and 1995

Joseph Merrick - The Elephant Man - Re-visited

The Elephant Man, the David Lynch film, was released in 1980; nearly fifteen years ago. So why am I talking about an 'old' film. Well, no film is really old - especially this one - as they are repeatedly resurrected for retrospectives in the cinema or, in the case of television, regularly shown to fill a schedule. In fact The Elephant Man is probably seen by more people on a TV showing (at any time) than it ever was at the cinema. But the main reason for wishing to talk about this film is that it is probably one of the most negative films about disability ever made, yet it is highly regarded by critics and film aficionados alike.

Why is it so bad? Mainly because it so righteously disregards the truth of Merrick's true life. The most blatant example of this mis-representation is in the choice of the main character's name: the film calls him John(?), when in fact it was Joseph. But that is a trivial point considering the rest of the film's gross distortion of almost all other details. One segment of the film has Merrick being kidnapped by his manager and taken to Europe, where he is exploited in the most inhuman manner: another complete fabrication of the filmmakers' minds that makes Merrick out to be so pathetic, and dependent, that his treatment at the hands of the great Doctor Treves becomes nothing short of saintly. Merrick's manager was, in fact, his friend and partner (a partnership that made Merrick comparatively well off for the time).

The film, by having Treves save Merrick, also denies Merrick any sense of self-will. The truth of Merrick's story reveals that he himself was highly instrumental in getting himself in to hospital, as his condition worsened, so that he could take his last few years a little easier. That Merrick is used by the filmmakers as a Horror film figure of fun, manipulation and curio (the film's poster use of various Horror motifs is not even subtle), is nothing short of formulaic film making, and as such, un-original (let alone dishonest).

But where the film is most guilty is in its conclusion. A conclusion that has Merrick commit suicide - by lying down to sleep when he knows it will kill him - to the funereal Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber (also used to heighten a sense of death in Loment's Oil and Platoon) to condemn Merrick and eulogise normality. Merrick, in truth, died in mid afternoon of natural causes. Thus the film uses Merrick to justify the medicalisation, and normalisation, of disability at the expense of Merrick's real existence.

The film does, in conclusion, exactly that which the hospital did in which he died: act dishonestly whilst carrying out its own hidden agenda: exploitation. Upon his death the public were told that Merrick had a Christian burial, in fact, as Merrick himself had predicted, he was pickled for posterity. The film offers us - no, not us, but an able-bodied audience - a pickled and distorted Merrick to feast upon in all its ableist misrepresentations. Merrick's skeleton is still in that hospital but, appropriately enough, only for the gaze of doctors.

543 words

September 1994

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BOOK REVIEW

The Cinema of Isolation: A History of

Physical Disability In the Movies

by Martin F. Norden

(Rutgers University Press, £16.95)

So what do the films Coming Home, The Best Years Of Our Lives and Dr. Strangelove have in common? No, not war, but the acting out of the Oedipal Scenario for for their disabled characters. In Norden's view the complete history of the representation of physical disability in cinema is the constant enactment of such a scenario. Me thinks not!

Thankfully though, Norden manages to control his psychoanalytical bent right up until the last five pages of this otherwise informative, intelligent and highly readable book. Prior to the escape of Freud upon this study Norden expertly reveals the true extent of the ignorance, stupidity and intolerance of filmmakers towards the physically disabled in a style that is both academic and anecdotal; commensurately detailed yet readable, and educational without being self-righteous.

The scope of films discussed and viewed by Norden in The Cinema of Isolation is bewildering, whilst never being executed superficially: the earliest silent one reelers (A Deaf Mute Recitation released in 1902) to the latest blockbusters (the 1993 films The Waterdance and Passion Fish for example) are detailed and analysed for their hidden agenda and normalising - and thus anti-disabled - messages.

But this book is not just the creation of a disablist taxonomy, nor a list of politically incorrect films; Norden never simply says "this is bad", he strips down the images to their bare essentials to support his argument with the degree of eclecticism that one would expect from a Professor of Film at a New England University. For example, the way in which Norden proposes that images of disability improved immediately after World War II (due to the involvement of that war's veterans) and that the subsequent rejection by Hollywood of those progressive filmmakers, due to the Communist Witch-hunts, lead to a rapid re-degeneration of disability imagery into one-dimensional stereotypes, is so convincing as to be virtually indisputable. The use of contemporary, and retrospective, biography and autobiography, and current leading academic theory and practice, make the arguments - and the book in general - a must for both filmmakers and critics.

That there is not one current mainstream critic who has any idea about the politics or realities of physical disability (as they do about Gay or Black issues) shows the importance, and need, for this publication. There have been other publications about disability imagery but they have tended to be either statistical or simplistic in the extreme, and always prescriptive; unlike Norden.

One of the bonus's of Norden's examination of disability imagery is that he tries to be positive, and constructive, where all others have been negative; Norden feels that, for example, My Left Foot shows a new found sensitivity (despite my ardent disagreement with him: as, for me, all images of disability can be seen negatively because we live in a culture that sees disability as intrinsically negative) and one cannot help but welcome the move to take control of the image positively; even if it is only the interpretation.

Images matter as they are the way in which most of us gain our knowledge of 'Others'. And, as such, Norden's study of the images that have helped create what is seen as the true lives of people with disabilities is as necessary now as it ever has been. Norden's first 318 pages (but not the last five) should be compulsory reading for all who are interested in film and disability, and society, in general. Professor Norden explodes the myths about the disability experience, myths that have for so long be used to keep us marginalised, by detonating the fallacies that have for a century resided peacefully in our cinemas.

605 words or 475 words if you cut the first two paragraphs

January 1994

Piece Three:

The Arts Council of England's

Disability Arts Video Project

The Arts Council of England set up this exciting project in 1994; and last year three full grants of £10,000 plus were awarded, in addition to other research and development awards. Though, hopefully, this year many more full, and R&D, grants will be awarded. The aim of the project is to encourage new disabled filmmakers and to help those already established to improve their film and video skills. Each project is considered on its own merits; though the high number of applicants, combined with the limited number of grants, means that those projects which fit the criteria exactly, and are most liable to be made, are given the awards. But we give as much assistance to those given grants as is possible and a grant will be given on the basis of an original idea above available technical video film skills.

The criteria is quite strict: the video film must be about disability art (any kind) and not be drama, in the strictest sense of the word (i.e. not be solely narratively driven). But it can be made in any form or style that you like: animation, dance, graphics, straight documentary or a mixture. The more original the better. Art as therapy for the disabled is not really applicable under the criteria outlined for the project but 'art', in its widest sense, as created or practised by people with a disability is given equal weight to Disability Art. Most importantly the video/film project must be disability lead with as much total disability input as is possible (i.e. be directed by, written by, and have at its core people with disabilities). Applications must be in by the end of July and they are available at the end of March from your Regional Arts Boards' film and video officer - who will assist you in your application if you require it.

The most difficult aspect of the application process for the new video or filmmaker will be that a fairly accurate budget will have to be included; though hopefully the film and video officer at your Regional Arts Board will be able to help you (in detail or with the names of others). If you have any problems getting an application form and details please telephone Will Bell, at the Arts Council's headquarters on 0171 973 6455; Fax 0171 973 6590 or minicom system 0171 973 6564.

The selection panel try to ensure that even those that are rejected are given detailed explanations of where they went wrong (although, more often that not, the idea is excellent but it just didn't fit the criteria as much others did). It is a good idea to study the criteria, which comes with the application form, in great depth so as to tailor your ideas to it. Creativity is the key, and the more the subject of Disability Arts is reflected upon, examined and explained, the better. The aim of the project is to help you, the video or filmmaker with a disability, understand and explore the media of film and video better whilst exploring Disability Art and art by people with disabilities. Good luck, and I look forward to reading your application form.

529 words

(Paul Anthony Darke is a member of the Arts Council's Disability Arts Video Project's Advisory (selection) Panel.)

May 1995