Book Review: Rod Serling: His Life, Work, and Imagination by Nicholas Parisi

 

Book Review: Rod Serling: His Life, Work, and Imagination by Nicholas Parisi

by Eric Gilliland

 

          

         

Few figures have influenced the popular memory more than Rod Serling (1924-1975). His work continues to captivate the imaginations of millions in the decades since his passing. In our current era of uncertainty with a creeping authoritarianism seeping into the political discourse we turn to Serling’s warnings on the dangers of prejudice, demagoguery, and intolerance going unchecked. Nicholas Parisi’s comprehensive study covers Sterling’s wide-ranging work in multiple mediums that included radio, television, theater, and film. A volume of perceptive criticism with valuable biographical insights, Parisi traces Serling’s evolution as a writer and the themes he returned to throughout his career as a writer and public personality.

          Serling grew up in in Binghamton, New York and had a rather ordinary childhood, a place he would often return to in his writing (The Twilight Zone episode “Walking Distance” being an example). He served in the Pacific Theatre during the Second World War as a paratrooper, earning a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star. His war experiences would influence his work which often dealt with the lasting consequences of violence. Shaken by what he saw in the war, Serling dealt with PTSD symptoms for the duration of his life. Aimless after the war he found purpose through creative writing as a student during his years at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio.

          After college Serling found work writing scripts for local radio and television in Cincinnati. Parisi devotes particular attention to a short-lived anthology TV series Serling authored entitled The Storm, a precursor to The Twilight Zone. The Storm revealed his interest in fantastical storytelling to address current social issues. An episode entitled “As Yet Untitled” dealt with a Chinese-American couple being persecuted after moving into a white neighborhood, which was based on a real incident in San Francisco. Most of his early radio and television work in Cincinnati only exists in script form that’s available at his archives at Ithaca College and it is to the author’s credit for unearthing these key works in Serling’s evolution as a writer.

          From Cincinnati he moved on to New York City and began writing for the television networks. He broke in during the “Golden Age of Television” when live dramas were shaping the future of the medium. If movie studios were still relying on big budget star driven vehicles, television was moving in the direction of gritty socially relevant stories that were giving voice to a new generation of writers, directors, and actors. Patterns would be the work that made Serling a household name, a stark tale of corporate intrigue presenting a grim vision of the American dream, in Serling’s words, “an indictment of the supposed values of a society that places such stock in success and has so little preoccupation with morality when success has been attained.” Patterns would be made into a feature film, as would his other teleplays Requiem for a Heavyweight and The Rack.

          Parisi also details Serling’s battles with censors during his years writing for live television, with “Noon on Doomsday” being a noteworthy example. Based on the 1955 Emmett Till case, Till was a 14 year old African-American teenager who was lynched in Mississippi while visiting relatives. When Till’s murderers were acquitted by an all-white jury, it became a moment that would galvanize The Civil Rights Movement. Serling was outraged at the triumph of racism and mob justice in America and felt compelled to write a teleplay directly addressing the gross injustices of the Jim Crow system. Sponsors and the network feared that such direct references to the case would offend white Southerners and hurt advertising revenue, so he had to water down the script into a vague story dealing with mob justice set in New England with barely a mention of race. His struggles with censorship led to the creation of The Twilight Zone, the legendary anthology series that would give him complete creative control.

          When The Twilight Zone debuted on CBS during the fall of 1959 it would change television forever. Serling’s creative breakthrough allowed him to explore social issues through the lens of fantasy and science fiction. He wrote 92 of the 156 episodes, supported by some of the strongest genre writers of the day including Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont, and Ray Bradbury. Serling’s opening and closing narration for each episode allowed him to act as a presence outside of the show’s universe. While the Cold War anxieties of the era are evident throughout the run of the series, The Twilight Zone also dealt with issues of history including The Holocaust in “Deaths-Head Revisited” and mob mentality in “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street.” Noteworthy episodes also looked towards the future and the changing relationship between humanity and technology.

          The Twilight Zone shaped the collective unconscious of the burgeoning boomer generation. Everyone who came after, including Stephen King to Jordan Peele, have cited Serling as a major influence. Like most anthology shows, the quality was inconsistent, but so many episodes hold up as classics. It ran for five season and has remained a staple of syndication, 24-hour marathons are an annual New Year’s Day tradition on the Syfy channel. From clever parodies on The Simpsons to multiple reboots, The Twilight Zone has never gone out of style.

          Serling’s next TV project was The Loner, an allegorical Western starring Lloyd Bridges that ran for one season on CBS. Still largely unseen, The Loner was finally released on DVD in 2016. Serling wrote 15 of the 26 episodes with the American West serving as a backdrop to explore his recurring themes of intolerance and the consequences of violence. Bridges played William Colton, a Union Captain haunted by his experiences during the Civil War, he searches for meaning, often finding himself in the role as peacemaker. Parisi compares the show’s existential themes to The Prisoner, in any event, The Loner is a must see for fans of Serling.

          In the latter half of the 1960s Serling continued to work in film and television. He earned a screenwriting credit for the classic Sci-Fi film Planet of the Apes and the political thriller Seven Days in May. Various TV projects continued, perhaps most famously “Carol for Another Christmas.” The Christmas season was another setting Serling loved to write about. Airing on December 28, 1964, Parisi called it the darkest interpretation ever written on the immortal Charles Dickens novel A Christmas Carol. The stellar cast included Sterling Hayden and Peter Sellers (a Dr. Strangelove reunion) and it dealt with heady themes of corporate greed and nuclear war!

          Night Gallery would become another notable TV project. An anthology series that ran from 1969-1972, the pilot episode featured an early directorial effort from Steven Spielberg entitled “The Eye.” Night Gallery emphasized horror and fantasy with Serling hosting and writing about 40% of the scripts. But it would prove be an unhappy experience. Without creative control Serling was chagrined to stand by as his scripts underwent significant revision in some cases. Parisi sees much to admire in Serling’s Night Gallery work, including special praise the collection of short stories that adapted his episodes into print form. After Night Gallery Serling remained a presence on television (often as a narrator) and continued to write screenplays until his untimely passing in 1975. In 2013 J.J. Abrams’s production company Bad Robot purchased the rights to one of Serling’s unproduced screenplays “The Stops Along the Way” about a hitchhiker aging from a young to old man as he travels across America.

          Rod Serling: His Life, Work, and Imagination belongs on the bookshelf of any pop culture devotee. Everything Serling wrote is summarized and critiqued by Parisi, along with supplemental chapters focusing on specific ideas in his work. For Serling, television was never a place simply for mere entertainment, but one to expand the minds of those willing to go along with him on the journey.

Book Review: Gravity's Rainbow Part I

I've made many failed attempts to get through Thomas Pynchon's 1973 novel Gravity's Rainbow, but this time around I'm a quarter of the way through and I have hopes of reaching the finish line. The novel won the National Book Award in 1974 (sharing it with Isaac Bashevis Singer for his A Crown of Feathers and Other Stories) and was selected to win The Pulitzer Prize by the Jury but got rejected by the Advisory Board for being "unreadable" and "obscene."

Pynchon remains something of a mysterious figure. While the idea of a "reclusive" seems to be a 20th century phenomenon, Pynchon's continued to uphold the tradition (if you would call it that). Now 83 years old, there's still only a few photos of him available to the public. Pynchon rarely gives interviews, although he did appear on The Simpsons in a voice role as himself in 2004 (also in two more episodes). He grew up in Glen Cove, Long Island, attended Cornell University, dropped out for a stint in the Navy, then returned to finish his degree in English. Novelist and songwriter Richard Farina (1937-1966) was an influence and close friend of Pynchon's at Cornell, Gravity's Rainbow would be dedicated to him. Vladimir Nabokov was one of Pynchon's professors, coincidentally Ruth Bader Ginsburg was also a student of Nabokov's around the same time. 

I started reading Pynchon back to the mid-2000s. The first Pynchon novel I read was The Crying of Lot 49, published in 1965. For anyone interested in Pynchon, that's maybe the best place to begin. Set in phantasmagoric 1960s California, the novel follows Ophelia Mass as she discovers a vast web of conspiracy (the post office plays a big role). I was also assigned to read Lot 49 in graduate school for a course on Postmodern American Fiction, one of the best literature courses I was lucky enough to get into. Then I read his debut novel V published in 1963, a pre-psychedelic journey through the 20th Century. 

Gravity's Rainbow takes place during the final months of the Second World War, alternating between London and Germany. The novel defies any attempt at a plot synopsis. Pynchon jumps around between points of view and time periods, sometimes between paragraphs. The famous opening passage describes a rocket descending upon a building, "A screaming comes across the sky," and we are off. The "A" mimicking a rocket about to be launched. 

Many, many, characters are introduced throughout, some of which are real figures, but most are fictional. If there's a protagonist in the novel it would be Lieutenant Tyrone Slothrop, an American serving in London being kept under close scrutiny by various intelligence agencies and other interested parties. Other characters include rocket scientists, psychologists, neurologists, military officers, statisticians, diplomats, spies, nurses, psychics, and mediums. Pynchon's view of the war is that of an apocalyptic event, a dividing line in history with shades of the future embedded throughout (way more on this in further posts).

Gravity's Rainbow almost requires a supplemental reading list to go along with it. In addition to the onslaught of 1940s cultural references Pynchon throws at you, for the dedicated reader, primers in Pavlovian psychology, classic psychotherapy, rocket science, quantum physics, the occult, Calvinist theology, colonialism, statistics, strategic bombing, bananas, and a chronology of events in 1944-45 would also help. Written long before google, my guess is Pynchon had the Encyclopedia Britannica at his side as he wrote. 

The novel throws so much at you in terms of imagery and plotting I find the best way is to just keep moving forward. Don't worry about understanding everything, you learn as you go along. I get the sense Pynchon set up the novel to steer away those who are not serious, one must get obsessive and let yourself into its world. You have to get familiar with the landscape!

Dedicated readers are rewarded with striking passages about life in wartime London and living under the constant dread of a rocket landing anytime, anywhere. Here's a passage from the opening pages:

Some wait alone, some share their invisible rooms with others. Invisible, yes, what do the furnishings matter, at this stage of things? Underfoot crunches the oldest of city dirt, last crystallizations of all the city had denied, threatened, lied to its children. Each day has been hearing a voice, one he thought was only talking to him, say, "You didn't really believe you'd be saved. Come, we all know who we are by now. No one was ever going to take the trouble to save you, old fellow . . . ." (4)

My strategy so far has been to read the book in small doses. Some may be able speed read through it in one gulp, but not me. Every sentence reads like it was thought out and constructed with the precision of an algebra equation. Digressions are common, but you get used to them. The book is full of graphic descriptions of certain acts we'd rather not know or even think about (especially on human digestion) and will put off many (as it did for the Pulitzer Jury). The book is dark, crude, sad, ugly, yet witty and often hilarious. In the chaos are stunning moments of humanity to counter the darkness. 

As of now I'm on page 156 of the Penguin Classics version, closing in on the end of Part One (Beyond the Zero), the first of four. I started the book on August 9, so I've been reading in fits and starts. I usually try to read a fiction and non-fiction book at the same time, ideally a short novel I can knock out in a few sittings, not this one. Finishing before the end of 2020 is within the realm of possibility I suppose, we'll see. If not then, hopefully by Spring of 2021!

St. Elsewhere: "Time Heals"

Air Dates: February 19-20 1986

Written by John Masius, Tom Fontana, & John Tinker

Directed by Mark Tinker 

"Time Heals" was a two part episode that aired during season four of the NBC series St. Elsewhere (1982-88). Although the show was never a ratings juggernaut, it found a loyal audience who followed the doings at St.Eligius hospital. "Time Heals" provided back stories for the major characters, but even more than that, a history of the hospital (and America) from 1936-1986. 

Edward Herrmann as Father Joseph McCabe

The episodes are structured in the form of flashbacks of various points in the history of St. Eligius, starting with its founding 1936 by Father Joseph McCabe. An Irish priest straight out of James Joyce brilliantly played by Edward Herrmann, Father McCabe started the hospital to help the people of South Boston struggling to get by during the Depression. In newsreel footage recalling FDR delivering his inaugural "nothing to fear, but fear itself" speech, McCabe's New Deal idealism and optimistic spirit would guide St. Eligius through the decades. He bucks against the Catholic establishment who disapprove of his advocation of birth control as a means to curtail poverty. He takes action against intolerance, stating a failure to act against hate and it will spread like a disease. 

We also meet Dr. Westphall's father (played by Ed Flanders) who was a friend of Father McCabe, later Westphall would be mentored McCabe. In a surprising scene a teenage Westphall appears to be on the road to delinquency, an angry young man expressing anti-Semitism and bigotry. How did this kid become the compassionate Dr. Westphall? It's proof that under the right guidance anyone can change for the better. We also see a young Dr. Auschlander (Norman Lloyd) being hired in 1945 after his return from the Pacific theatre during the Second World War (which he mentions throughout the series), unknown to him the kid who just spouted an anti-Semitic slur at him will later be a trusted colleague. 

In 1955 we meet a young Dr. Craig William Daniels), as a sycophantic young surgeon to his mentor Dr. Domedion (Jackie Cooper). Craig dreams of leaving St. Eligius and becoming chief of surgery at Boston General, the premier hospital in the city. We see Craig being browbeaten by Domedion during an operation (just as Craig does for everyone he mentors) and losing his confidence. Reference is also made to the polio epidemic of the 1950s, in one scene the doctors discuss their hopes for a vaccine to stop the scourge of that disease after walking through a ward of children confined to iron lungs. 

During the 1960s Dr. Craig would become chief of surgery and the lone superstar surgeon St. Eligius after leaving Boston General after being passed over, proud to be a pioneer in open heart bypass surgery. In 1965 we see Nurse Rosenthal (Christina Pickles) being hired (with a stronger English accent) as she provides comfort for a young Luther (Eric Laneuville). By 1975 Dr. Westphall is happily married with two kids (Elizabeth and Tommy), only to lose his wife in a tragic accident, echoing the loss of his mother and sister in the fire in 1936.

Ed Flanders and William playing younger versions of their characters.

There's also a present day story set in 1986: Dr. Morrison (David Morse) is having trouble diagnosing a case and even worse his young son has been abducted. As played by Morse, the character epitomized the shows ability to build up characters and then tear them down because of their very strengths. For example, Morrison treats his patients in a humane matter, yet his sensitivity works against him, making him indecisive. His peers consider him ineffectual as a physician. Yet here he makes a breakthrough correctly diagnoses a rare case of polio, connected to the 1950s timeline. Dr. Chandler (Denzel Washington) compliments Morrison and tells despite what everyone thinks he has it in him to be a good doctor. Morse and Washington play the scene well. As St. Eligius celebrates its 50th anniversary and Morrison is reunited with his son.

"Time Heals" reminds that everyone in their endeavors may never live to see the results of their labors or even if they made the right decisions. It's a daily grind. Change is slow and time moves fast. Most days it appears we're going backwards, but we keep struggling. 

These episodes were a wonderful gift to fans of the series, but also innovative and in their structure and theme. Each era replicates the style of cinema of that particular decade, the 1930s are in B&W while the 1950s are in technicolor. The two episodes together reminded me of The Godfather Part II, ruminations on how the the actions of the past inform the present and shape the future. 

TV Watching in the Year of Quarantine

Here's a list of some TV Shows I've been watching 2020. In recent years I've devoted more time to movies, but making an effort to watch more TV.

Classic TV

St. Elsewhere (1982-1988) 

St. Elsewhere was set at St. Eligius hospital in South Boston. Under funded and in constant disrepair, each episode followed the ensemble cast of newcomers and veterans in their personal and professional lives. A pioneering show in the sense in that story lines would play out over multiple episodes so there was a sense of continuity over the seasons. Realistic in its depiction of medical care in the 1980s, it took on many issues television had never taken on. St. Elsewhere's sense of humor and tragedy with a touch of the surreal made it memorable. Many characters would come and go over the course of the series, but the stalwarts were Dr. Westphall (Ed Flanders) the chief of medicine, Dr. Craig (William Daniels) chief of surgery, and head of operations Dr. Auschlander (Norman Lloyd). Many members of the cast went on to big careers including Denzel Washington, Mark Harmon, Howie Mandel, Ed Begley Jr, and David Morse. St. Elsewhere is a fascinating show because it had one foot set in the past and one in the future. Like hospital dramas of the past it took on a wide spectrum of social issues, most notably the AIDS epidemic, budget cuts in the Reagan era, class, poverty, race, and gender issues. Old TV shows were always referenced, providing an intertextual element. St. Elsewhere had the humanism of M*A*S*H and the gritty realism of Hill Street Blues. It would point the way to another hospital drama E.R. After completing St. Elsewhere on Hulu I plan on moving right to E.R., imagining both as a part of a continuum. 

Barney Miller (1975-82) 

Barney Miller was set at the fictional 12th Precinct in New York City. A workplace sitcom in the style of Taxi, Cheers, and Wings, Barney Miller chronicled a slightly eccentric group of cops as they deal with day to day criminal activity, mostly of a minor nature. Most of the criminals were shoplifters, muggers, con artists - rarely anyone violent. Led by the quiet calm of Hal Linden as the title character to the cranky Detective Fish famously played by Abe Vigoda and the rookie "Wojo" played by Max Gail. African-American detective Harris (Ron Glass) aspires to be a writer and Sgt. Yemana (Jack Soo) provides surreal commentary to the doings at the precinct. For the first two seasons Gregory Sierra played Sgt. "Charo" who brought an edge to the early seasons and was the center of one my favorite episodes "The Hero." If you're a fan of Dog Day Afternoon or Serpico, you'll appreciate Barney Miller. 

The Rockford Files (1974-80)

 I've been going through The Rockford Files in fits and starts over the past few years. Unlike other TV super sleuths like Columbo or Jessica Fletcher, Rockford lives in a trailer and is usually broke. Most shows deal with white collar criminal types, it makes you think there's a small time scheme in every corner of California. A lo-fi show of darkly lit bars and shady warehouses, plots always move in a labyrinth pattern. Rockford often gets beat up (so many blows to the head) a lot so the show by no means glamorizes the job, things are usually oblique and rough around the edges. Of all 70s shows it feels the closest to the New Hollywood trend of movies with shaggy morality and disoriented humor.

Cosmos (1980) 

I covered each episode over at my other blog, but if you've never been able to watch Cosmos - seek it out! A history of science and an eloquent argument for rational reason, the show provides an anecdote to the madness of 2020. Television of the highest ambition and magnitude.   

And Two New Ones

Mrs. America 

A nine episode political history foreshadowing how America got to the Trump era. Cate Blanchett stars as Phyllis Schlafly, the conservative activist who led the fight against the passing of the Equal Rights Amendment during the 1970s. The series tells a parallel story of the feminist movement and its leaders Gloria Steinem, Shirley Chisholm, Betty Friedan, and many more. With ERA on course to being ratified with bipartisan support, Schlafly led a successful anti-feminist movement which prevented ERA from being ratified in 1982. Blanchett delivers a complex, even sympathetic, performance as Schalfly. Mrs. America is more focused on the tensions within each movement, while at the same time portrays an often overlooked political battle in recent American history. A recreation of a Tom Snyder episode is a highlight. Streaming on FX-Hulu.

Cobra Kai 

Look no further for a generous serving of 80s nostalgia than Cobra Kai which is getting a second life on Netflix. The show picks up on the lives of Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence from the Karate Kid franchise. Daniel is now a successful owner of a luxury car dealership, while Johnny survives on odd jobs, a living anachronism stuck in the 80s (more of a state of mind). But a series of events lead to a revival of their epic rivalry. The younger generation also plays a major role and turn the series into an interesting melding of Gen X - Gen Z morays. Each episode is around 30 minutes and they move fast. 

End of Summer Suite

Book Review: Planet of the Apes by Pierre Boulle

Most summers I like to re-watch of the original Planet of the Apes movies released from 1968-73. I finally got around to reading the source material, the 1963 novel by Pierre Boulle. Few novels of the 20th century have ignited the imagination of many and led to nine feature films, a TV show, and graphic novels. 

A swift read, Boulle's style recalls that of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, fast paced action- adventure with a philosophical underpinning. It bears many similarities to the classic 1968 film, but at the same time tells a much different story. Like the movie, the story begins with a group of astronauts en route to the Betelgeuse system. They crash land onto a planet and quickly discover an upside down world where humans are subjugated by apes.

The protagonist Ulysse Merou bears little resemblance to "Taylor" famously played by Charlton Heston. A fairly bland character, Merou acts as more of an observer with his narration throughout. It was smart for the movie to give him a misanthropic and colonial attitude, here he's more of a bystander. When Merou and the crew are put into captivity by the apes, he amazes them at his ability to talk and display intelligence, so sympathetic Chimpanzee scientists Cornelius and Zira become his benefactors (like the movie). The political leader Dr. Zaius symbolizes establishment attitudes on earth - and fears what the human visitor will entail for his planet.

Merou becomes a celebrity and has a son with a primitive woman Nova (she was partnered with him in a science experiment). Fearing a social revolution to come, the leaders of ape society decide Merou must leave the planet. The conclusion diverges from the movie, although Tim Burton sort of used for his remake in 2001.

Planet of the Apes is a fun read. Boulle's use of satire makes for a compelling allegory of power structures and how they respond to change. All societies have an interest in keeping a social balance, anything threatening such a balance will be considered hostile. The cycle of films would serve as an allegory of race relations in America, as explained in Planet of the Apes as American Myth by Eric Greene. There's also pro-science theme in the novel, as it explores the dangers of politicizing scientific advancement, an obstacle holding civilization away from reaching full potential. The novel also makes you think about why there is so much resistance to change and what that tells about the rise and fall of communities. 

Book Review: The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark by Carl Sagan

The Demon-Haunted World was Carl Sagan's final book. It was published in 1997 and feels alarmingly prescient when we look at the world a fifth of the way through the 21st Century. Sagan takes on the rise of pseudo-science in the culture and the consequences of living in a world where anti-science attitudes prevail from top to bottom, even given credence by heads of state (Trump). I don't even have the words for what Sagan would think if he were alive today. I'm sure he would see some signs of hope, but if you read the news we see the consequences of magical thinking prevails on a grand scale. 

Consider this quote:

I have a foreboding of an America in my children's or grandchildren's time - when the United States is a service and information economy, when nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when the people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or knowledgeably question those in authority; when, clutching their crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish what feels good and what's true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and darkness (25).

Throughout Demon-Haunted World, Sagan makes the case for the scientific perspective as essential if civilization is to survive into the 21st century. He counters the view that science and spirituality must be in conflict, science can evoke wonder in a way similar to religion. Stepping away from the idea of a universe without a creator is too frightening for many. A scientific world view values radical skepticism and requires overwhelming evidence to support any hypothesis. Holding to beliefs without evidence or going by intuition solves little, the idea everything happens for a reason, leads to complacency and susceptibility to charlatans who will distort the truth. While Sagan has no qualm with spiritual world views that are self-critical, the prevalence of fundamentalism entails a regression of civilization. 

Many chapters look at unnerving cultural trends throughout the 1990s, the decade that saw conspiracy theory thinking rule over pop culture. Widespread beliefs in alien abductions and widespread government cover ups of everything from AIDS to crop circles. While governments have been known to lie and attempt to cover up the truth, going down the rabbit hole where everything is a conspiracy leads to slipshod thinking. 

A chapter is devoted to the "Roswell Landing," the most famous UFO hoax. Sagan looks at the more outrageous claims and finds no evidence to support any of them (and offers his own hypothesis much less dramatic than the explosive conspiracies). Alien abduction narratives can be explained through neuroscience and psychology - and how easy it is to fall into self deception. The most outrageous claims must be supported with equally compelling evidence.

Sagan also defends science from some post-modern critics who view it as simply one path to knowledge, no different than witchcraft or transcendental meditation. Other criticisms criticize the history of sexism and racism within science. Sagan concedes all scientists have bias (including himself), but scientists must undergo the most intense scrutiny from their peers. Science is a self-correcting approach to knowledge. A chapter is devoted to ethical issues scientists face, especially in light of the atomic age, and argues scientists must be aware of transgressions they've made in the past. 

Demon-Haunted Earth fine work of popular science and a fitting culmination to Dr. Sagan's career as a public intellectual. We desperately miss him. 

Bob Dylan's 1965 Time Magazine Interview and How it Speaks to >>>>>2020

In a memorable scene from Don't Look Back, the 1967 documentary which followed Bob Dylan during his tour of England in 1965, he sat down with a Time Magazine writer Horace Freeland Judson. Instead of respectfully answering the questions from the esteemed culture journalist, Dylan turned the tables. He dared to be irreverent towards a respected publication that considered him to be a curious fad.

Many focus on Dylan's alleged cruelty towards Judson, but that's a misrepresentation at best. Some recent takes claim Dylan was calling out the fake news media. That's a simplistic interpretation as well. If you listen closely something else entirely was going on.The exchange was a clash was over ideas about art and the media. Dylan despised being subjected to a patronizing write up in Time about him being a folk singer who spoke for his generation. Dylan's defiance towards Judson led to a deconstruction of what Time Magazine represented. 

Their verbal spar moved the interview into surreal territory. Dylan criticized the magazine's approach to reporting world news, pointing out how they make the news simple and concise, like a consumer product you might say. He states the magazine had "too much to lose by printing the truth." When questioned further on what constitutes the truth, Dylan casually suggests the truth is a "plain picture" and that collages of "tramps" and "Mr. Rockefeller" would make more sense.

I imagine Time magazine in 1965 as being run by Ivy League/East Coast establishment types, cultural gatekeepers with deep networks into all sectors of American life. Dylan was calling out the magazine's sanitized presentation of reality, one out of touch with the emerging counterculture. The reality represented by Time did not resonate with the experiences of young people - so they created their own media and culture.

The exchange got me thinking about today. This past week a group of 150 respected members of the establishment composed of writers and academics (overwhelming majority over age 40) signed a petition in Harper's Magazine decrying so called "cancel culture" without naming it specifically. The "letter" generated a lively debate online. Those who signed the letter see an "illiberal" attitude among the younger generation. As many have pointed out the letter says more about gatekeepers in a shaky political climate. What's viewed as an attack on freedom of speech from the left is more of a new accountability they view as persecution. If Dylan was moving faster than the culture at large in the 1960s, the young must move even faster these days. They have no choice considering the state of the world.

Another tactic is to demonize youth (woke) culture as a new form of McCarthyism. The logic being that if one makes an offhand comment on race or gender, their career will be derailed. A twitter mob will be unleashed. Off to the gulag then I presume? Or maybe a lucrative speaking tour! It's a dubious comparison and a bizarre rhetorical ploy. The Red Scare of the 1950s targeted free thought, anyone suspected of communist sympathies could be jailed or even executed for treason. Calling out intolerance and bias within institutions bears little resemblance to the tactics of McCarthy, especially when it comes from the marginalized of society, voices typically silenced or ignored in the past. Screaming "New McCarthyism" today would be the same as labeling Martin Luther King an "SJW" or "communist" (many did) for upsetting the status quo in the 1960s and actually having the temerity to call upon white people to reconsider their views on race as he did in his Letter From A Birmingham Jail: 

I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose of establishing justice they become dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress . . . we who engage in non-violent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive.

With the safe distance of history, even red state conservatives pay lip service to Dr. King (even though many of their forebears fought passionately against a holiday dedicated to his memory).

Victims of McCarthyism were served subpoenas, got late night knocks on the door, lost their jobs, and faced prison time if they refused to "name names." Anyone who dissented from the consensus of Cold War culture was suspect. It's also well documented people of color, the Jewish community, and gay people were targets of HUAC (House of Un-American Activities Comm). Loyalty oaths were also required for all civil servants allowing for union busting on a grand scale. The extreme anti-communism McCarthyism fomented did not die with him either, but led indirectly to the Vietnam War and resulted in electing a President in 2016 who admires Tail gunner Joe  (yet progressive millennials are labeled the new McCarthyites?). The past is not even past. 

Young people desperate for change have the right to be confrontational. They're also our best hope. Think about the world they inherited. The generation under 30, born after 1990, has experienced the 2008 crash at age 18, an increasing class divide, forever wars, and the rise of authoritarianism. The year 2020 has been one of a global pandemic, another economic disaster, and civil unrest brought on by decades of unchecked police brutality. The status quo is no longer acceptable. As British songwriter Billy Bragg argued in the Guardian, social media now fills the role of pop music in the past as a space for youthful dissent -  and appears to be more effective for the time being. Those who've never had to answer to anyone before now find their sacred conventional wisdom on trial - as it should be. 

Just as many viewed Dylan, Joan Baez, or other luminaries in the 60s as a threat to social order because of their creative expressions and influence on the young, the powers that be of today lament the new critical voices aimed at them and also must live with the knowledge they left a heavy burden on future generations - whether it was by electing Trump, supporting Brexit, or their lack of action on the environment.  They will have to adjust to the changing times, as Dylan wrote:

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin'
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'

Gil Scott-Heron - Bicentennial Blues

Interview with Caroline Madden: Author of Springsteen as Soundtrack

Springsteen as Soundtrack by Caroline Madden (2020, McFarland) analyzes the use of Bruce Springsteen’s music in movies and television. Caroline agreed to answer some questions for the blog on this compelling and incisive study of Springsteen, who, in the words of the author, stands as a "storied cultural icon and social justice hero who communicates what our American values should be."

When did you first become a fan of Springsteen’s music?

I first became aware of Springsteen’s music when I was around twelve years old. My mom and I would listen to the Essential CD in the car all the time. I especially loved his 80s sound and Born in the U.S.A. because at the time I was obsessed with Back to the Future and loved pop culture from that decade. When I was seventeen, I became more of a fan after reading Elizabeth Wurtzel’s memoir Prozac Nation. The poignant way she described his music and her intensely personal connection to him made me seek out the deeper cuts in his catalog (such as “The Promise”), and from then on I was hooked. 

What was the genesis of Springsteen as Soundtrack?

The idea for the book came to me during grad school where I was majoring in Cinema Studies at Savannah College of Art and Design. As both a Springsteen fan and student of film, I researched his IMDb and saw that his music was on the soundtrack of over 200 films and television shows. Then, I began making my way through as much of the titles as I could. Around this time, I was also reading a lot of Springsteen scholarship, and I noticed that although film was a formative influence on his music, there was little to no writing about it. Most books about Springsteen cover his connections to religion, politics, literature, or American history. My thought was that if Springsteen was so inspired by films and his music was making such an impact on them, shouldn’t there be a book about it? 

Why do you think Springsteen’s music appeals to such a wide variety of filmmakers?

Roger Ebert calls film an “empathy machine,” and that is how Springsteen’s music functions: he places you in the shoes of another through his introspective and affecting songs. The script-like specificity of his lyrics allow you to emotionally identify with and understand his characters. Like the best of films, he speaks to the trials and tribulations of our everyday lives—family, love, depression, perseverance, hope. The universality and the grounded nature of his music appeals to a variety of filmmaker’s genres and styles. 

Is Springsteen selective about granting permission to use his music in movies/television?

Springsteen was more selective in the past, but overall he is quite choosy about which films are allowed to have his music. If you ever get the chance to read the court depositions in Down Thunder Road by Marc Eliot with Mike Appel, you’ll get the sense of just how protective Bruce is of his work and his art—particularly when he was young; it was all he had. He has carried that fervent passion with him all of his life. Since Bruce is so defensive of his work, naturally it does not appear in just any film and television show that makes a request. If Bruce does not have an outstanding relationship with the director, he will go so far as to read the script or at least an outline of what the project entails. Springsteen assesses how the song will be used formally in the film, but most importantly whether or not the film aligns with his values. Such careful consideration is what prompted me to write the book in the first place; I wanted to ask why these films resonated with Bruce.

How did movies influence Springsteen’s early songwriting from the 1960s and 1970s?

In interviews, Bruce describes going to the Jersey drive-in movie theatres nearly every weekend. He was heavily influenced by the westerns and road movies that played there. His early, unreleased songs such as “The Evacuation of the West” and “Cowboys of the Sea” borrow from the western genre’s iconography of cowboys riding into sunsets or shoot-outs in the middle of town. Robert Mitchum’s Thunder Road and other B-movies inspired a lot of the songs on Born to Run.  Born to Run has a very 1950s aesthetic that matches these cheap, pulpy movies that Bruce loved growing up. 

Springsteen’s grandiose, Phil Spector-esque sounds match the film genre’s splashiness and melodramatics. He was also drawn to the genre’s characters with nomadic hearts.

I was intrigued to read that during the making of his 1978 album Darkness on the Edge of Town Springsteen was reading The American Cinema by Andrew Sarris. How did a work of film criticism inform a rock album?

I think Springsteen was actually just looking for attention-grabbing titles. But his use of the book indicates just how much cinema is interwoven into his music. A lot of the titles he and Jon Landau considered for what ultimately became Darkness on the Edge of Town, such as History Is Made at Night or American Madness, are very bold and speak to the human condition. Darkness is not based off of a film title, but it echoes the film noir genre and seems to voice the pain of his everyday characters meeting their fates. 

Although Springsteen has made the occasional cameo appearance and acted in his music videos, he never starred in a motion picture (to my knowledge). Are acting or directing avenues he ever considered?

There are rumors of Bruce auditioning for films during the 1970s and 1980s, and Martin Scorsese courting him for some roles. However, Springsteen insists that he never actively seeked film roles because he didn’t want to take away from his music. Although Bruce is the Boss and has creative final say on the look of his music videos, he takes a more directorial approach in conceptualizing his “Hunter of Invisible Game” music video and the recently released film Western Stars (although he has stated that co-director Thom Zimny is actually the one behind the camera). Bruce shaped the script and framework of Western Stars, and likely had some say in the way shots would be set up. I don’t personally find Bruce that compelling of an actor (ex. his Lilyhammer cameo), but I think he would make an intriguing director. I would love to see Bruce write a fiction novel; his writing in Born to Run was exceptional, and I feel he would tell some good stories. Also, as his Western Stars score and tribute song for Ennio Morricone shows that he crafts gorgeous instrumental music. It would be very intriguing to see him compose another film score. 

The 1983 John Sayles film Baby It’s You was one of the first films to utilize Springsteen’s music. How did that particular film set a template for merging Springsteen’s music with cinema?

It set a template in terms of the songs either speaking for a character or commenting on the action, and it does so beautifully. It helps that Baby It’s You is a Springsteen song come to life with its early 1960s setting, teenager protagonists, hot rodding exploits, love theme, and transition from childhood to adulthood.  Sayles is a fantastic music director; he arranges and edits his visuals to the songs, making it seem as if the popular music is an organic part of the images.

Your chapter on Mask (1985, Dir. Peter Bogdanovich) is a case study on how soundtracks are critical to how a film is perceived. How does the process of deciding what music will go into a film or television episode typically work?

It varies by director and project. They may write the songs into the script and hope for the best when trying to secure the rights to the song, such as George Lucas for American Graffiti. Others edit first and then find the music, which in the case of Show Me a Hero is quite remarkable considering how well the Springsteen montages flow. 

The Vietnam War had a profound influence on Springsteen’s songwriting from “Lost in the Flood” on his debut album to the massive 1984 hit “Born in the USA.” Your chapter on the underrated 1989 film In Country looks at the war through the lens of Springsteen’s music.

How did the war shape Springsteen’s world view?

 The war shaped Springsteen’s world view in vast ways. He received a draft notice when he was a very young man during a time period filled with rage, uncertainty, and tragedy. He had recently graduated high school when his friends were going overseas to fight (and die) in a country they couldn’t even find on a map. The Vietnam War shaped the liberal ideals that he still follows today. It taught him to be more politically aware, to participate in voting, and to vote for candidates that truly cared about their citizens and bettering the American people. Vietnam gave him rather pacifistic views that the majority of war was unnecessary and driven by greed or senseless political scheming. 

How has his music shaped the collective memory of The Vietnam War?

The 1980s were all about processing the Vietnam War and defining how it would be remembered for future generations. While Bruce has a lot of songs about Vietnam and veterans, “Born in the U.S.A.” is an integral part of the war’s cultural memory—one that is incredibly poignant but also majorly misunderstood. As a backlash against the countercultural movement and the national disdain for those who participated in what was considered a “senseless” war, the conservative right began aggrandizing veterans as hypermasculine heroes who glorified an imperialistic and strengthened nation. “Born in the U.S.A.” was misinterpreted as part of this movement because of its nationalistic sounds and iconography. The chorus was seen as prideful, when really it was an ironic interrogation of America’s values: How can we cry “Born in the U.S.A.!” when our veterans are dying hungry and jobless? “Born in the U.S.A.” dared to critique America’s response to the Vietnam War during a time when the country was trying to restore its image and relationship with Americans. 

Springsteen wrote “Streets of Philadelphia” for the 1993 Jonathan Demme film Philadelphia. How did the song contribute to the discourse surrounding the movie?

As I discuss in the book, director Jonathan Demme wanted a very masculine musician to write a rock anthem for the film’s opening. However, Springsteen was inspired to create a very somber, moving ballad. This sound, along with the use of first-person narration and lyrics about what it feels like to be abandoned and slowly dying, helped audiences to understand the lead characters’ perspective and truly put them in the shoes of men and women afflicted with AIDS. Andy’s feelings of depression and desperation became intensely relatable. During this time, people with AIDS were feared, disdained, or outright ignored. The song got widespread radio airplay and was attached to a film starring Tom Hanks, thus ensuring its mass appeal and consumption. Springsteen’s song was a key component in people changing their minds and opening their hearts to understand and care about people with AIDS—Demme’s ultimate goal. Springsteen is a “man of the people” and the common man’s hero, therefore his empathetic expressions of those suffering with AIDS were appreciated by all.  

You wrote High Fidelity (2000, Stephen Frears), “embodies Springsteen’s thematic concerns of lost youth, masculinity, and rock and roll.” High Fidelity has since been criticized for its depiction of music snobbery and entitled male behavior. Does the film deserve another look when viewed in the context of changing gender dynamics in Springsteen’s music over the decades?

I share those criticisms of High Fidelity. I dislike the male behavior displayed and I personally don’t feel Rob learns very much by the film’s end, or at least he never owns up to/critiques his behavior in any substantial way. I think a reexamination of the film would benefit those who are not familiar with Bruce Springsteen. Most would assume he fits within the rock and roll archetypes that Rob cherishes, but a deeper look into Springsteen’s catalog beyond his early music or party songs reveals a changing look at women, one that is the complete opposite of what Rob idolizes. I don’t think the film itself communicates much of this, but I would suggest viewers who are not as familiar with Springsteen branch into his catalog more. It would illuminate a lot of the film’s very hidden subtext.

At this point in time Springsteen’s vast catalog can serve as a narrative of American history. Your chapter on the HBO mini-series Show Me A Hero argues as such. How did the series and Springsteen’s music combine to tell such a complex story about politics and history?

Show Me a Hero tackles something that could be very dry: the construction of affordable housing, but Springsteen’s music (along with other elements such as Oscar Isaac’s performance) transforms it into a very engrossing and humanistic narrative. Bruce’s music is a consistent thread that gives the story the universality it needs for viewers to absorb the miniseries’ altruistic message of racial equality. Without it, the forward-thinking ideals would be lost in the political jargon and mechanics. The music not only speaks for the main character Nick, voicing his thoughts, struggles and wishes, but all of the marginalized characters in Yonkers that he fights for. Springsteen’s music connects us all through our dreams, fears, and emotions—no matter what our skin color or political leaning is.  All the people of color in Yonkers want a comfortable home, a space to raise their family and live their lives. The use of Springsteen’s music in montages connects them to the characters who are protesting against them, thus asserting that we are all one and the same. Springsteen’s entire canon taps into that sense of place, family, and fidelity. Having extratextual knowledge of what Bruce stands for—the true American values of equality, the pursuit of happiness, and the respect of others—allows you to make those connections. 

Do you think 21st Century filmmakers taken a different approach to using Springsteen music in their movies? Or is there a continuity with the 1980s and 1990s?

That’s a really great question! I think, formally, some directors use Bruce in more innovative ways than others. I’m thinking of John Sayles’ or Andrea Arnolds’ music video style editing or montages. Sayles in particular seems to seamlessly weave Bruce’s music into the temporality and visual flair of Baby It’s You. During the ‘80s, films like In Country used Bruce to seem more contemporary and culturally relevant, since that was his height of popularity. In‘90s films like High Fidelity, he is seen through a nostalgic lens; he comes to represent what was so special about the past. This has only increased with films today like Blinded by the Light. Now, modern directors and films, such as in American Honey or Show Me a Hero, are tapping into Springsteen’s politics and using his music to express their visions of racial and LGBTQ equality.  Springsteen is seen as the grandfather of America, a storied cultural icon and social justice hero who communicates what our American values should be. 

I recently watched Blinded by the Light. I was thinking the film could be another chapter in Springsteen As Soundtrack. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the film and/or the cross-cultural appeal of Springsteen’s music?

It was released during the writing of my book and I was worried about having to push back my deadline to include it. However, as each chapter in my book focuses on a particular theme, I felt my Show Me a Hero chapter was an extensive look at how race plays into Bruce’s music. But that is not to say that there isn’t a wealth of discussion relating to the film, the book it’s based on, and Bruce’s relationship with race. Blinded by the Light certainly fits within the modern use of Bruce’s music as commentary on larger social issues. Its story about a marginalized teen connecting to Bruce’s music and not feeling like an outsider would make a great double feature with Mask. I appreciated its unique Bollywood aesthetic and musical-esque treatment of Springsteen’s songs. I particularly enjoyed the inventive use of putting the lyrics on screen. Most of all, I loved seeing a Springsteen fan protagonist that wasn’t white! In my book, (and in most films that use his music) the majority of characters who Springsteen fans are white men. Blinded by the Light was also key to introducing Bruce to younger audiences, so his work can live in the next generations. 

Of all the films and Television series you wrote about in Springsteen as Soundtrack, which one or two in your opinion used Springsteen’s music to best effect?

Baby It’s You has such a special place in my heart because it really feels like you’re watching something from Born to Run manifest on screen. I think Sayles had a keen understanding of how Bruce’s music could fit both visually and thematically. All of the scenes that use his songs have a sparkling energy that give the film an exciting tension. The scenes of the star-crossed lovers walking around Asbury Park are particularly sweet. It’s an underrated film that I think every Bruce fan would love. 

A big thanks to Caroline for agreeing to do the interview!

You can purchase Springsteen as Soundtrack by clicking on one of the the links below:

https://mcfarlandbooks.com/product/springsteen-as-soundtrack/

https://www.amazon.com/Springsteen-As-Soundtrack-Sound-Television/dp/1476672857

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/springsteen-as-soundtrack-caroline-madden/1132506378