Inside the Londinium set that is Jules’ tinker workshop I spy small tintypes called memento mori, hundreds of them hanging on the wall. Memento mori or more appropriately, memorial portraiture were in fact Victorian post-mortem photographs. With the advent of photography originating in the daguerreotype in 1839, portraiture was made available to the middle class. People of all walks of life could have an image of their beloved. Sometimes families had only one image of their endearing relative. And sometimes that image was made after they died. Because the infant mortality rate was so high in those times a lot of these memento mori are of dead children. Some are ghoulishly propped up with irises painted on their closed lifeless eyes and a favorite toy placed in hand. Others have been arranged to look as though they are in ‘eternal slumber’. These glass plates and tintypes are morbid and reflect the socio-cultural mourning attitudes of the time. And yet, like a car accident you can’t help but look. In the later Victorian era corpses were photographed and memorialized in their coffins. Some of the most famous daguerreotypes are the field photography of Matthew Brady and the infamous images of dead civil war soldiers on the fields of Gettysburg and Antietam. A bit less infamous are the post-mortem photographs of the five slain prostitutes that Jack the Ripper murdered.
This is Jules’ livelihood and an important clue to his character. The invention of photography also ushered in an odd version of voyeurism as previously discussed in an earlier entry. It is believed by many American Indians that cameras steal a part of the soul and incarcerate it in the processed image. Could there be something to that? The mere fact that these one-of-a-kind photographs are hanging by the hundreds in Jules’ workshop leads me to believe that he is collecting souls, if you will. Not actual numinous spirits but the captured tokens held so dear by loved ones. Perhaps he is trying to feel close to something thru the collecting of these images. The first time I was made aware of memorial portraiture was in the movie The Others with Nicole Kidman. About halfway to two thirds thru the film she discovers a photo album in one of the rooms filled with post-mortem portraits. This is when she realizes that the servants she hired are really dead people. Brilliant! Jules’ real talent seems to lie in his skillful capturing of moving images…of people dying. Violently.
Three different rooms, three different sets. The only room not in use today is the bathroom and the hallway. The first set is in the parlor and has been built and designed to look like a part of the outside of a sideshow complete with hand painted sideshow banners advertising not only Jules Whitby and his Magic Lantern Show but also the Elephant Man (who, by the way was on display in 1888 in the slums across the street from the London Royal Hospital and for a brief moment in time considered a possible suspect in the murders.) David Lynch’s brilliant film, The Elephant Man is one of my absolute favorite movies of all time and truly seems to capture the attitudes and grim reality of London without all the saturated color of the Merchant Ivory ventures.
This exquisite set is really only a pick-up shot as we watch Richard move from the dinner scene thru Hyde Park and stumble into the sideshow tents. Further inside the Fort Greene Brooklyn brownstone the furniture in the bedroom has been moved into storage for the day and the walls draped in canvas with fly doors and flaps. There are five extras hired for the day, patrons of the magic lantern show and a hand picked rabble of ne-erdowells. Jules stands behind his podium cranking his zoopraxiscope and presenting his collection of images to a paying audience. For a penny or two people could wander into alleyways and watch what was called ‘actualities’. With Edison and his Kinetiscope these actualities turned into nickelodeons. For a nickel patrons could watch a fictional story like The Great Train Robbery in a theatre setting. So began the world of cinema.
In Londinium this early actuality, however, is of Richard wounded as he stumbles into the street on that first snowy night as Victoria comes to his aid. The grainy black and white images glide across the blank canvas as Jules narrates a fictional story eerily similar to the East End killings. He implies that the young woman (Victoria) is a victim and that the dark man (Richard) is about to do ‘unspeakable’ things to her. “Did she take her own life…or did he.” Jules poses to the entranced audience of ruffians. It gives me pause. Is he foretelling the future or spinning a dramatic yarn. One of the ruffians is Dr. Stephens. In the opening scene of the movie Dr. Stephens approaches Jules, “I think you can contribute a great deal to the field of medicine.” He says. Almost immediately I wonder if Jules will be supplying the good doctor with cadavers. However the good doctor’s desires are more sinister and include the capturing of images of dying bodies. I watch Whit playing Richard and the dots he seems to connect via emotional streams. I wonder how I would feel to have an intensely intimate moment captured on a device and then displayed for all to see. I would feel violated in a way and quite vulnerable. I can see this progression in Richard as he watches the cold faces of the strangers taking in the moving pictures of he and Victoria connecting on a soul level. He can go one of two ways: Overcome the obstacles before him and take action or harden himself to cover his insecurities. I am torn, I am fascinated by the villain in him but I want him to be the hero. I want him to do the right thing but I’m not sure what the ‘right’ thing is yet.
I am momentarily distracted as the other sideshow begins. Ed, our last minute extra is dressed in a morning suit and bowler and wanders in and out of the show tent in take after take. Thom is assistant directing and after each take Ed asks, “How was that Thom? Did that look okay?”
“It looked fine, Ed. Don’t over think it.” Thom replies.
“Good note.” Ed says smirking and moving to his first mark. The director calls action, the extras are choreographed and move as planned. Ed looks natural. Once the director yells CUT! Ed feigns nervous anxiety. “Thom? Was that a one good?”
“Yeah, Ed. It was fine. You’re just walking in and out of the tent with purpose. Ask yourself where are you going and where are you coming from.” Thom says growing exasperated.
“Isn’t it ‘where I’m coming from’ first, then ‘where I’m going’?” Ed replies.
“Whatever you’re doing it’s working, Ed. Everybody first mark.” Thom orders.
“He puts me at ease.” I hear Ed say to another extra trying to stifle a giggle. Murray just nods and takes his place.
Posts
