Be just and if you can’t be just, be arbitrary.
William S. Burroughs
I’ve said in the past I like to do a credit sequence that segues the audience from their real life into the life of the movie.
David Cronenberg
In Naked Lunch the intro credits are shadows in some 1990’s take on 1950’s film noir, revealed by passing sheets of yellow, blue, red, purple and green as they slide across the screen horizontally then vertically, to the tune of an orchestral backed-saxophone, led by red stripes. The font is blocky, sans serif, all caps yet irregular, some letters appearing smaller and underlined, while other letters are bulging bold, others are thin and contracted. Bill Lee so totally reminds me of Joseph Beuys — coincidence?! There is no narrator per se. The point of view revolves around Lee: his experiences as an agent with his case officer (the ever-changing writing tool, that reports to his controller). I’m confused whether I relate more to William or Joan. While she writes long-hand: shooting up with yellow powder for a Kafka-high, he writes with a Clark Nova, smothering pressure points (and Joan) with this black, inky, stuff. His writing happens in his absence. It is a demonstration of so much of what I’ve been reading in Cixous. But the Colours!
When Fadela destroys the machine that the Lees use to make love through Arabic writing:
“Well that’s it then, the woman has got to go”.
They discover in the roots of a plant: “Well, this is how Fadela’s been controlling you Joan: your blood, your pubic hair and your finger nails!”
Joan says “Fadela controls no body and you know it. You enforce control upon her…Poor woman’s probably desperate to get out of our household.”
needs a lot of paper and mirrors, eh?
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