Justin Tremel's blog

“Like it’s your little toy”: Masters and Disasters of War

Justin Tremel — Sun, 29 May 2011 15:24:15 +0000

I never imagined my childhood play would be a harbinger of real-life disaster. Before I discovered Nintendo, I amused myself with various toys, and countless hours were devoted to “playing war” with what I referred to as my “army guys”those small, forest green, plastic soldiers forever frozen in distinct battle poses. Others may have had more elaborate sets, but my collection of army men (there were no female plastic soldiers), consisted of only a handful of poses. As I remember I had: radioman, grenadier, crawler, crouching machine gunner, standing shooter, and lookout, similar to the first group pictured below:

Image by I remember JFK

I would intricately arrange opposing armies on battlefield carefully peering at my men, delicately positioning each figure, pointing weapons, and constructing groupings, before finally opening fire. Perhaps because each army guy had dozens and dozens of identical types, I never thought of my casualties as individuals. This held true both in my monologues in the heat of the battle, “that grenade-thrower just took out my last machine gunner” and after all the soldiers had fallen.

After happening upon images of a new series of army men, my eyes have been opened to a dark side of this game and my position as indifferent war master, casually killing of and tossing about my soldiers, typecasts, not individual warriors (unlike my GI Joe collection). I can’t help but find myself haunted by Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” with its biting accusations

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

After destroying my opposing armies, post-war I’d briefly examine the aftermath of the battle, a disarray of fallen soldiers that I’d quickly pile together, throw in my toy bucket, and forget about until some future battle. A creative reworking of these familiar army men by UK-based Dorothy collective prohibits any such forgetting, and it forces us to linger post-battle—what happens to our veterans after “the fast bullets fly.” This collection was inspired a report published in July of 2009 in the Colorado Springs Gazette, a two-part exposé “Casualties of War” (part1, part 2), that details soldiers from single battalion based at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs who, after returning from Iraq, spin out of control, engaging in rampant domestic abuse, rape, suicide, shootings, drug abuse, drunk driving, and assault at alarming rates.

Dorothy repositions the tiny army men in new poses, in so doing, repositions the “toys” as, arguably, masterworks of visual art, and certainly as poignant and massively effective productions of social commentary.

Perhaps the most striking new figure is of a veteran amputee:

Though he still remains clad in his helmet and combat uniform, his machine gun has been recast as a wheel chair, and a stump of upper thigh is all that remains of his once sturdy crouching right leg. The medium of the minute plastic toys works in multiple ways, playing off of a sense of familiarity and childhood nostalgia. The tiny scale forces us to closely examine the changed details, the soldier’s accoutrements, and the implications of these changes. The wounded vet remains all the more tragic because of the permanence of his pose, forever confined to his well chair, never able to cast off the vesture of battle—his bulky boots, bulky combat fatigues, and the leaden mental fatigue felt in the tilt of his helmeted head, in the blankness of his frozen, plastic stare.

I find most tragic touch in the subtle positioning of his hands. When viewed from above they seem to be engaged in propelling the wheels of his wheelchair, but when seen at eye level, from an acute angle, one discovers that his hands are placed outside the wheels, and noticeably clutched, seemingly gripping a phantom machine gun.

The hands continually grasp for his machine gun, but remain forever empty, leaving him with only the machine: a legless chair, wheeled but inert—immobile, sad.

In “Master’s of War,” Dylan castigates the warmongers of the world, describing them “like Judas of old” full of lies and subterfuge, deceptions which he can see through, snarling, “But I see through your eyes / And I see through your brain / Like I see through the water / That runs down my drain.” Might we not recast Dylan’s song in relation to these new works of art, reframing his haunting lyrics not so much in terms of accusation, but in terms of revelation, describing a new vision we can take on vis-à-vis these toy soldiers. These plastic objects are so compelling because they allow us to see through eyes that aren’t there, imagine painful thoughts of tortured brains, and immerse ourselves in a painful reality which otherwise so often miss. Like a child with his toys have we not lumped the individual tragedies of our nation’s heroes into an anonymous mass of “war veterans”? How odd that a “little toy” a tiny piece of plastic can help us see with such clarity and run rampant through our thoughts pouring forth emotion.

I’ve here examined just one of the figures in the series, yet, I would argue, that each of the other silent different figurines evokes unique, though similarly profound emotions and social commentary. When subjected to dual modes s of “seeing” close inspection, and introspection, these lifeless figures alter our vision, to showing a harsh reality; standing in for heartrending lived experiences cannot be hidden:

Images by Dorothy Collective

Like these tragically posed plastic army men, many real-life veterans, both male and female can’t walk, can’t speak, and remain trapped, suffering enduring post-war wounds both visible and hidden. Veterans like these plastic representatives, often can’t change position, can’t, can’t cast off their combat fatigue(s), can’t turn their heads to view a brighter future, and everybody knows that plastic army men certainly can’t weep; can we not do at least this much on their behalf? As a nation we celebrated Memorial Day last Monday, remembering those brave soldiers who paid the ultimate price. These figures remind us that every day is memorial day, to not just remember, but also to pay tribute to our heores and our lost loved ones—the dead, the dying, the living...

Women in Film

Justin Tremel — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 20:52:52 +0000

I recently read a New Yorker article that mentioned the spell-binding youtube video "Women in Film" seen below. It's quite mesmerizing, have a look.

In the article, author David Denby points out certain common visual elements that the diverse group of female stars all share:

The video "Women in Film," on YouTube, morphs the faces of female stars, from the silent period to the present, in a continuous progression, making it clear that eyes may be freakishly pinned open (Crawford) or flirtatiously half closed (Marilyn Monroe), but they must be liquid and voluminous. And lips must be full, the lower gently crescented and the upper a perfect bow. The women were often filmed with chin raised, looking up at men, so the neck had to be a clean line, the shoulders pliant and yielding. Women's hair in the glamour period was curtain and foliage, the luxurious motif of sexual abandon.

The video seems to me a good compliment to the Dove campaign discussed previously on Viz. In a rhetorical avenue of inquiry that places so much emphasis on images of the female body, it is compelling to see how much significant visual study can be done, even when concentrating on simply the face in monochrome. Our students may not recognize any of the earlier Hollywood stars, but I think they'll find the last thirty seconds of the video quite compelling when the morphs take on the faces that they are very familiar with.

The full text of Denby's article isn't currently available online from the New Yorker, though you can find an abstract. You can, however, access his article in html via Academic Search premier:

FALLEN IDOLS. By: Denby, David. New Yorker, 10/22/2007, Vol. 83 Issue 32, p104-114, 7p; (AN 27150834)

Dylan's Theme Time Radio enters the visual realm

Justin Tremel — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 00:32:49 +0000

Those of you who subscribe to XM satellite radio may have come across Bob Dylan's weekly radio show Theme Time Radio. Recently comic artist Jamie Hernandez created an imaginative promotional poster for the show.

Boing Boing reader Simon Nielsen took Hernandez's poster one step futher and made a short movie tribute using Hernandez's artwork and the audio from Ellen Barkin's evocative voiceovers that open each episode of Theme Time Radio Hour. Nielsen writes:

"Barkin introduces each episode of Theme Time Radio Hour with an evocative vignette describing the nocturnal activities of the restless characters living in the big city. It is from these spoken word vignettes that Hernandez was inspired to create his artwork. The illustration is detailed with many of Ellen Barkin's night time characters - some asleep, some consumed in thought, others burning the midnight oil long into the night. Prostitutes, homeless men, drunks, lost souls and lovers intersect near a street corner of the Abernathy building. I was so fascinated by the world within this poster I set about finding all the spoken word vignettes and weaving them together into a whole. I started from show number one and worked my way through the spoken word introductions of all 50+ episodes of Theme Time Radio Hour. The following movie is my modest attempt to bring to life the inhabitants of the mythical Abernathy Building and the art created by Jaime Hernandez."

One can find a YouTube link to the movie here

I find the amateur video a striking example of how one can very easily but also very evocatively join the visual elements to the auditory, to create something new, an enhanced experience of both media transferred into a third. It also seems a good example/model for a student exercise to make a movie using a single image to tell a story/make an argument by exploring it in depth and detail, joined with audio commentary.

1 film=6 Bob Dylans

Justin Tremel — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 16:02:55 +0000

Director Tod Haynes has a new movie opening that has been described as a biopic on Bob Dylan. Unlike traditional biopics, however, Dylan is played by six, yes that's right six different actors. This film is intriguing in a number of ways, as explored in a lengthy New York Time Magazine Artilce, but it is especially interesting considering its unique visual aspects:

"Because Todd Haynes’s Dylan film isn’t about Dylan. That’s what’s going to be so difficult for people to understand....And that’s why it took Haynes so long to get it made. Haynes was trying to make a Dylan film that is, instead, what Dylan is all about, as he sees it, which is changing, transforming, killing off one Dylan and moving to the next, shedding his artistic skin to stay alive. The twist is that to not be about Dylan can also be said to be true to the subject Dylan."

This film which construes Dylan as a six-actor-composite and shifts through a coterie of directorial modes and homages from Fellini to Pennebaker will surely be rich ground for studying the visual rhetoric of public persona, celebrity, popular artistry, etc...