Thursday, October 20, 2022

Egyptissimo

    Brier, Bob. Egyptomania: Our Three Thousand Year Obsession with the Land of the Pharaohs, Palgrave Macmillan, 2013.
    Brier, Bob. The History of Ancient Egypt [DVDs]. Chantilly, VA, Teaching Co., [2003]. Series: The Great Courses. 8 discs and 4 course guidebooks.
    Cooney, Kara. When Women Ruled the World: Six Queens of Egypt. Washington, D.C., National Geographic, 2018.
    Cormack, Ralph. Midnight in Cairo: The Divas of Egypt's Roaring '20s, New York, Norton, 2021.
    Goldman Michal, director. Nasser's Republic: The Making of Modern Egypt (DVD). Narration by Hiam Abbass. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Icarus Films Home Video, 2016. Includes bonus features: director’s commentary; bonus clip; 16-page booklet.
    Olson, Lynne, Empress of the Nile: The Daredevil Archaeologist who saved Egypt's Ancient Temples from Destruction, New York, Random House, 2023.
    Snape, Steven. Ancient Egypt: The Definitive Visual History, DK, 2021.
    Treasures of Egypt: A Legacy in Photographs from the Pyramids to Cleopatra; Ann R. Williams, general editor, Washington, D.C., National Geographic, 2022.

     
    Being the centenary of Howard Carter’s famous discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb, 2022 inspired renewed interest in and coverage of all things Egyptian. But it was Carter’s sensational find on 4 November 1922 (and the subsequent lurid tales of an ancient curse) that generated a tidal wave of fascination for Eygyptiana that manifested itself in Egypt-influenced clothes, architecture, interior design, jewelry, and heaven knows what else, probably most infamously in the various mummy novels and movies. Thus we might assume the craze for all things Egyptian began in the early Twenties. No such thing. Truth be told, the phenomenon sometimes called Egyptomania had been around a long time, a very long time, centuries actually, even millennia. As just one example the Romans and Greeks of antiquity had a fascination with, even reverence for, Egyptian culture. To be sure, Egyptophilia (the other, possibly less pejorative, term) was given a bit of a jump start in 1798-99 with Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt and the attendant scientific and archaeological discoveries, most significant being the Rosetta Stone and its eventual deciphering by Jean-Francois Champollion. Thus, the ‘modern’ era of Egyptomania began around 1800 and really kicked into high gear with the discovery of Tut’s tomb in 1922, and continues in various guises to this day.
    While many people are interested in the legitimate history of Ancient Egypt, probably many more folks (myself included) are fascinated by the Egypt of myth, legend, pseudohistory and pop culture. And this is not necessarily a bad thing. But more to the point, why Egypt? And not, say, the Incas in Peru, or the Maya of Central America and Mexico, or the ancient Chinese civilizations, or the Khmer Empire in Southeast Asia, they of the massive temple complex at Angkor. Or … well, you get the idea. In some mysterious way we have a thing for Ancient Egypt that we don’t have with other ancient cultures. As for me, it’s difficult to say exactly but it must have something to do with how long the civilization lasted, how far away it is in time, its exotic yet familiar design qualities, and, not least, the massive scale of the structures. And yes, I admit that I enjoy all the mummy movies – each is entertaining in its own way – but my favorite is the first, classic, darkest and probably most archaeologically accurate version, The Mummy (1932) with Boris Karloff.
     Mummy movies aside, Egypt’s tentacles reach far and wide, sometimes appearing in unlikely venues: in the 1933 original King Kong a member of the expedition crew opines that the massive wall built to keep Kong in looks like it could be Egyptian. Movie auteur Carl Denham then goes him one better by invoking Angkor (“nobody knows who built it”).
Then there are other, in-your-face, reminders like the Luxor Hotel in – where else? – Las Vegas. More edifying is the fact that Sigmund Freud was an inveterate collector of Egyptian artifacts, art, and books on ancient Egypt. It’s not too far off the mark to think that Freud saw a connect between archaeology and psychoanalysis. Others have noted that writers and readers of mystery novels are also fans of ancient archaeology. In any case these examples have at their center an uncovering, a gradual revealing of what was hitherto buried, often with a surprise or twist ending.
    In any event the titles listed above are a grab bag with no discernable focus other than most are of (relatively) recent vintage and each in its own way, with varying degrees of success, represents an attempt to capture the mystery and mystique of all things Egyptian.
    I’m not qualified to judge how ‘definitive’ Steven Snape’s coffee table romp through ancient Egyptian history and culture is, but judged on its own merits Ancient Egypt: The Definitive Visual History is a mostly impressive achievement and has the usual high gloss qualities one expects from a DK production. The thorough index and intensely detailed acknowledgments section in particular add a certain academic heft to the mix. However – and it’s a near deal-breaking however – there’s no footnotes or even a token reading list, much less a true bibliography. An occasional title is tossed out randomly but we find nothing even close to a systematic listing of sources. But given that the rest of the book is so good, we can, if not exactly forgive the omission, appreciate the book’s other, not inconsiderable, qualities, best of which are the many sumptuous illustrations.
    Published during the Tut centenary of 2022, National Geographic’s Treasures of Egypt might be seen as the famous society’s coffee table answer to DK’s sumptuously extravagant volume. As to be expected the large tome is dominated by historical and current photos that present Egypt in all is splendiferous and mysterious glory. The book will hold few surprises for specialists or even well-informed amateurs, but the illustrations are something to behold. Alas, like Ancient Egypt: The Definitive Visual History, there’s no reading list.
    I’ve seen several of the Great Courses lectures on DVD and listened to a few on CD, and Bob Brier’s DVD traversal, The History of Ancient Egypt, is my all things considered choice as the best, or at least my favorite. In an engaging style that walks a fine line between audience-friendly and esoteric, he gives us a near perfect introduction to the mysteries of Egypt for the novice enthusiast or well informed amateur, and he even provides enough minutiae and specialized information to appeal to the serious student or specialist. There is never a sense of dumbing down the material, and this marvelous perusal once again reminds us of the cultural treasure that the Great Courses series is, either in their CD or DVD incarnations, with the caveat that even they have the occasional misfire, i.e. a boring presenter. But not this one. Brier’s infectious enthusiasm shines through and as a presenter he’s smooth and reasonably entertaining. In any case his chronologic approach with selected side trips to mummification, archaeological digs, and mummy movies maintains a remarkable consistency throughout the 48 lectures.
    Brier’s book Egyptomania might be seen as an unofficial condensed version, a kind of pop history take on his Great Courses lecture. Especially noteworthy are the many illustrations: posters, movie stills, pottery, toiletries, cigarettes, cigarette cases, jewelry, et al. There’s exceptionally strong coverage, perhaps too strong (i.e. to the de-emphasis of other, worthy subjects), on the removal and transportation of obelisks. Despite this imbalance, Brier’s book may be recommended as an entertaining breeze though one man’s obsession with Egyptiana, as well as an accessible introduction to the topic. Along with the present book, the reader may also be interested in checking out Joyce Tyldesley’s Tutankhamen: The Search for an Egyptian King and Ronald H. Fritze, Egyptomania: A History of Fascination, Obsession and Fantasy, both of which offer similar if meatier treatments of the subject.
    As for Kara Cooney’s When Women Ruled the World, none of the six women profiled actually ruled the world, but as is revealed in the book’s subtitle, only Egypt. And even given Egypt’s primacy as the dominant culture of the era, there were lots of other civilizations around, each with its own traditions and, invariably male, rulers. At any rate When Women Ruled the World: Six Queens of Egypt focuses on the six women who ruled as absolute monarchs of Egypt: the better-known figures of Hatshepsut, Nefertiti, and Cleopatra, and the much less familiar Merneith, Neferusobek, and Tawosret. Of the lesser known rulers, Merneith is perhaps the most interesting: her reign goes all the way back to the early mists of history, ca. 3,000 BCE.
    Cooney’s basic thesis is that women rulers in ancient Egypt were not the normal way of business but that they usually came into power, and often held it, in periods of national stress. Less persuasive perhaps are Cooney’s frequent conclusions regarding these six queens and today’s female rulers and women leaders generally. The book’s academic gloss includes map, bibliography, illustrations, chronology, and detailed footnotes. See also Cooney’s informative DVD, Ancient Female Rulers: The Women Who Ruled the World (3500 Years Ago), Dreamscape Media, 2021, which covers much the same territory in somewhat more abbreviated fashion.
     With Robert Cormack’s Midnight in Cairo: The Divas of Egypt's Roaring '20s, we jump forward a couple of millennia (at least), and I confess much of my enjoyment of the book is due to the narrative’s semi-gossipy style as Cormack recalls the many colorful personalities, both substantial and more peripheral, that flit in and out of the narrative.
     While Midnight in Cairo is ostensibly a breezy examination of the history of entertainment in Egypt, focusing on the nightlife of the 1920s & ‘30s – the energetic music, theater, film, and cabaret scenes – all is skillfully filtered through the political and social backdrop of Egypt in the first half of the Twentieth Century. In this historically conservative culture, the Twenties and Thirties in Egypt were more a (near)anything-goes time in performance and the arts, not unlike the Weimar era in Germany at the same time. And the independence of women entertainers paralleled the struggle for women’s rights: opportunities for women were greater and indeed the women asserted themselves. As the book progresses we have more emphasis on the political scene and less on the entertainment industry. As mentioned above, numerous picaresque characters spice the narrative in starring or supporting roles, but for me hors concours go to the irrepressible belly dancing diva Tahiya Carioca in all her over-the-top glory. But there was more to the woman than just being an entertainer: she was something of a feminist activist and supported numerous left-wing causes. In this historically less-than-progressive society, she was perhaps the highest exemplar of the remarkable women profiled in the book during a time when there was freedom and passionate expression in the arts, entertainment, and even political arenas. It all coalesced into a nightlife scene that’s today, alas, largely lost to history.
     The remarkable documentary Nasser’s Republic overlaps much of the era of Midnight in Cairo, and the two books cover some of the same issues (for example, Egypt’s road to modernity). But there the similarity ends. Told largely by way of rare archival footage, Nasser’s Republic is a thoughtful, realpolitik examination of Nasser’s near two decades rule as President of Egypt in the 1950s and 1960s. The documentary is also, to a lesser extent, a profile of the man himself.
     As the narrative makes clear, for all his accomplishments in making Egypt a modern nation, and his unflagging popularity with the masses, Nasser never really achieved his stated goal of making Egypt a legitimate democracy. Indeed his methods were decidedly authoritarian. Even so, Nasser comes off as one who ruled more by charisma than by attention to abstract issues and bureaucratic detail. The broad brushstroke narrative rushes through the 1960s and especially the Six-Day War, instead focusing on the 1950s and, a few years later, the building of the Aswam Dam. The best part perhaps is the interview footage with poets, journalists, historians, Nasser associates, and especially Nasser’s daughter, all of which humanizes Nasser and gives texture to the story. While Nasser’s Republic is a mostly sympathetic view of its subject, on balance, it’s an even-handed account, and highly recommended.
     Lynne Olson’s fascinating Empress of the Nile gives full due to a major if somewhat low-profile figure in Egyptology, Christiane Desroches-Noblecourt, and in particular her heroic efforts to preserve ancient Egyptian monuments and artifacts in danger of being destroyed in the building of the massive Aswan Dam in the 1960s. There’s also substantial coverage of Desroches-Noblecourt’s acitivites in occupied Paris during World War II, which included work for the Resistance. The narrative also recounts Jackie Kennedy’s efforts as a rescuer of cultural artifacts, which included her own, not inconsiderable, efforts in persuading the Kennedy administration to financially support the Egyptian artifacts rescue project. Empress is a an engaging, reader-friendly read. Recommended.

Friday, October 14, 2022

coffee-table can be beautiful

     Albrecht, Donald. Cecil Beaton: The New York Years. New York, Skira Rizzoli, 2011. [Published on the occasion of the exhibition of the same name held at the Museum of the City of New York, October 2011-March 2012.]  
   Brassaï : For the Love of Paris, Agnès de Gouvion Saint-Cyr [exhibition curator]. Paris, Flammarion, 2013. Translated from the French by David Radizinowicz. "Simultaneously published in French as Brassaï, pour l'amour de Paris" (Title page verso). [Published on the occasion of an exhibition held from November 8, 2013 to March 8, 2014 in the Salle Saint-Jean at the Hôtel de Ville in Paris].
     Fashion: The Definitive History of Costume and Style. New York, DK, 2012. [‘Smithsonian’ - cover]
     Jorgensen, Jay and Scoggins, Donald L. Creating the Illusion: A Fashionable History of Hollywood Costume Designers. Foreword by Ali MacGraw. Philadelphia, Running Press; Atlanta, Turner Classic Movies, [2015].  



     There’s the coffee table and then there’s the coffee table book. Alas, so called coffee-table books have attained a bad odor: they’re really just ornaments for display, things not really to be savored, much less read. Thus the moniker. In a word, they’re status symbols that advertise how cultured (and how well off) we are. Official sources tend to reinforce this: the term reportedly made its first appearance in a 1961 issue of Arts Magazine, and according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, coffee-table refers to "a large expensive book with many pictures that is typically placed on a table for people to look at in a casual way." Similarly, the august New Oxford American Dictionary, Third Edition, chimes in with the almost exact same definition: a large, expensive, lavishly illustrated book, especially one intended only for casual reading. However … I hope the four volumes listed above will to some extent refute this assumption: they have scrumptious photos but also sprightly, well informed, highly literate texts, so much so that at least one of them might be considered a full-on monograph.    

    The Brassaï volume is in its way the most substantial, though not necessarily the most beautiful, of the four. While Brassaï was a man of many talents – novelist, sculptor and painter – it’s his nighttime vistas of Paris that assure his place in aesthetic history. Indeed, the Hungarian-born Gyulus Halasz (1899–1984), who worked as Brassaï, was something of a lifelong Paris specialist, and the black and white images herein concentrate on the between-the-wars years and the 1950s. It’s not too much of an exaggeration to say that the city has never been captured so evocatively or poetically. My favorites are the photos that distill the melancholy and mystery of the night, and especially those that give us the night people – criminals, prostitutes, grifters, night owls, alcoholics, drug addicts, cabaret entertainers, the homeless – in the all their unsavory splendor. Brassaï: For the Love of Paris further benefits from David Radizinowicz’s insightful translation from the French. Includes a chronology.

    As for Cecil Beaton, he was of course more than just a portrait and fashion photographer. Illustrator, artist, set and costume designer, incorrigible bon vivant, his many talents are seen to best advantage in the extravagant volume that’s Cecil Beaton: The New York Years. Fans of Beaton will lap up this book like catnip and if one is new to his work you’ll probably become a fan quickly. We have page after page of mouth-watering photos (some never before published) of the beautiful – in all senses of the word – people. I’m especially partial to the candid(?) and not-so-candid entries of Greta Garbo. Also making an appearance are the usual suspects of the rich, famous and notorious: Brando, Astaire, Warhol, Marilyn, Capote, Callas, Chanel, Mick Jagger. Indeed Beaton ran with the beau monde and, like Capote and a few others, blurred the line between self and subject.
    Not so surprising then that this volume features selections from the elite figures in art, theater, fashion and the entertainment worlds from the 1930s to the 1960s. The portraits and ‘informal’ photos are fine, but what captures my heart are the illustrations of the theatrical costume designs in their technicolor glory. In his designs Beaton had an eye for the classical style and brought truth to the adage that old is always new again if we wait long enough. In sum, Cecil Beaton: The New York Years is a wonderful production and shows how classy a ‘coffee-table book’ can be.

    Speaking of classy coffee table books, Fashion: The Definitive History of Costume and Style, while it may overstate its title – I’m not sure what a ‘definitive’ history would look like – this massive volume is nonetheless a feast for the senses, well, certainly for the eyes. As the fellow said, fashion changes but art and artistry doesn’t.
     Impressive in its range and with impeccable production values, Fashion covers the most important trends in costume and style from antiquity to the present. True to DK form, the book scores on quality – and most definitely quantity – of illustrations; layout; and, to a certain extent, content, providing almost too many facts in one volume. Each chapter has a timeline; analysis of social, historical and cultural issues; major trends; feature articles on fashion legends and major designers; and many, many illustrations. The detailed index, even with its squint inducing small print, is also a plus, though conspicuously absent is a reading list or footnotes.
     One curiosity about Fashion is that there’s no author credited, not even an editor. There are lots of names listed on the copyright page, thus we assume this production was done by committee. However – to be perfectly technical, a listing of ‘consultant authors’ and ‘writers’ is provided on pages [8-9]. In any event, and perhaps not so surprising, the writing itself, while commendable in the plethora of information it offers, has a certain generic quality and lacks a cohesive voice or point of view.
     If I were to quibble, and it’s only a quibble, I would have preferred more coverage of costume design in the movies, and in particular its influence on fashion trends in the broader culture, especially during cinema’s golden age (roughly 1930-1955). Another caveat, if that is the word: the book’s content leans heavily toward women’s fashions, along with an almost total emphasis on white, American/Euro fashions that rich people wore, to the almost total exclusion of other cultures and socio/economic groups. Still, as long as there are those who appreciate the chronicling of costume design, conveyed through the most luxuriant imagery, Fashion: The Definitive History of Costume and Style will never go out of style.

     As much as Fashion: The Definitive History … may be a little weak on costume and the movies, Creating the Illusion: A Fashionable History of Hollywood Costume Designers fills the void admirably, almost with a vengeance. The cover photo of a wildly adorned Marlene Dietrich gives us an idea of the extravagant treasures to be found inside the pages of this huge tome. The book then is little short of nirvana for film lovers, especially those partial to the Golden Age. Each chapter has a brief biography of a designer, starting with the silent era and progressing more or less to the present. The better-known designers get several pages each, with heavy emphasis on the biographic details to the detriment somewhat of the aesthetic elements. A parochial observation: I was delighted to see that longtime RKO designer Renié Conley (who usually went by just plain ‘Renié’) was given a chapter. Among many other films, she created the wardrobes for the Val Lewton horror classics in the 1940s, and won the Oscar in 1963 for her over-the-top designs for Cleopatra.    
    Creating the Illusion then is a beguiling, somewhat incongruous combination of photos of near camp, and, in some cases, straight-on camp costumes, combined with a sensitive, knowing text that borders on the scholarly. The verdict: the book is an absolute stunner, and will delight movie fans, especially connoisseurs of classic cinema. A mild criticism: as the book's subtitle implies, the coverage is very Hollywood-centric, thus, and alas, very few, if any, foreign films are included.

Saturday, October 1, 2022

killer's kiss: Day of the Jackal (1973)


     The  Day of the Jackal. [videorecording (DVD)]. Universal; Fred Zinnemann's film; a John Woolf production; directed by Fred Zinnemann; produced by John Woolf; screenplay by Kenneth Ross.
Universal City, CA: Universal, c1998.
    Blu-ray version: Arrow Video, [United States], 2018. Special features of Blu-ray DVD: new interview with Neil Sinyard, author of Fred Zinnemann: Films of Character and Conscience; two rare archival clips from the film set, including an interview with Fred Zinnemann; theatrical trailer.
    Originally released as a motion picture in 1973. From the book by Frederick Forsyth. Photographer, Jean Tournier; editor, Ralph Kemplen; music, Georges Delerue. Performers: Edward Fox (The Jackal), Michel Lonsdale (Claude Lebel), Alan Badel (The Minister), Tony Britton (Inspector Thomas), Eric Porter (Col. Rodin), Jean Martin (Wolenski), Cyril Cusack (Gunsmith).
     Summary: the story of a cold, suave British assassin hired by the French OAS to kill General Charles de Gaulle. The nameless and faceless killer, known by the code name of Jackal, relentlessly moves toward the date with death that would rock the world. The tension mounts as the methodical preparations of the Jackal are paralleled with the efforts of the police to uncover the plot, which gives the story non-stop, edge-of-your-seat suspense.
     

    2023 marks the fiftieth anniversary of the release of Day of the Jackal, Fred Zinnemann’s superlative take on the political assassin film. It’s my favorite assassin movie and indeed would be competitive for a spot in my all-time top ten favorites, regardless of genre. It’s one of those movies I can see over and over and it never gets old, and that’s one of my definitions of a great movie – it holds up, and sometimes even gets better, with repeated viewings. That being said, I confess I sometimes fast forward through the (few) slow parts (but don’t tell anyone!). Though the impression may be erroneous, and surprising, given Jackal’s many qualities, I don’t see it listed as high or as often in online best-of-assassin movies compilations as I would expect, and it seems to have settled into an under-the-radar status for the most part. Is it because it didn’t win any major awards, did only so-so at the box office (despite good critical reviews) or has a mostly non-star cast? (though one might argue that Derek Jacobi and even Edward Fox became [almost] major stars). Anyhow who can say?

   Despite its half century vintage Jackal has an amazingly modern look and feel, and it could all boil down to its non-sentimentalized, quasi-documentary style, which is further reinforced by the lack of a background music score. It’s all helmed by Zinnemann’s supreme directorial skills, though the thriller is not a genre with which we usually associate him. Indeed the film takes such a detailed, you-are-there approach, that the viewer readily accepts that he’s watching real events unfold and not just a scripted story. However – and it’s a big however, I’m always a little troubled by the Jackal’s obvious miscalculations, to the point of recklessness. They don’t convince given his otherwise cold, low-risk style. Moreover, for all that the Jackal possesses near preternatural skills as well as an uncanny talent for improvisation, this disconnect doesn’t quite jibe.

    These reservations notwithstanding, the Jackal fits the mold of the somewhat romanticized pop culture version of the hired killer: he’s well educated, well dressed, well spoken, polite – in his way – and he works independently. And of course he can take out an adversary with one hand tied behind his back. Moreover, he projects a blandly anonymous, workmanlike image (including aforementioned lethal fighting skills), all presented in smoothly aristocratic packaging.

     One downside of my otherwise excellent library copy of the Universal DVD is the complete dearth of special features. A movie like Jackal would seem to cry out for such extras. I’m not familiar with the Blu-ray special edition version, i.e. I haven’t seen it, but I note that it has special features.

     Great on-location scenes, especially in Paris and Genoa, add to the film’s authenticity, and the international flair isn’t diminished by the unmistakable Brit overlay, most obviously present in the British dominated cast, who don’t make any attempt to disguise their old boy accents. The ladies fare better in the ethnicity/accent department. Delphine Seyrig, Olga Georges-Picot, and Colette Bergé have an unmistakable French vibe about them. By the way, an interesting bit of trivia: the character played by Delphine Seyrig is always referred to in the film as Madame de Montpellier, though in credits online and elsewhere her character is listed as ‘Colette.’ Curious. Editorial comment: yes, I did see the so-called remake The Jackal and thought it was absolutely terrible. Stay with the original.

    One caveat: Day of the Jackal does move at a rather stately pace, i.e. it will seem slow to some viewers. Thus if your tastes tend to screeching tires, fiery conflagrations and brutal hand-to-hand fights, Jackal may not be your cup of tea. Perhaps because the film treats the characters and actions in a fairly neutral style, I find myself rooting for both the Jackal and police inspector Lebel. And why not? A close, down-to-the-wire photo finish is always more fun than a rout, no?