Bill Gunn 1973 USA
Starring: Duane Jones, Marlene Clark, Bill Gunn, Sam Waymon, Leonard Jackson, Richard Harrow
Films existing in various forms is nothing new and in the age of DVD/Blu-ray and restoration projects the subject has increasingly become both a mundane regularity and a comment on the instability of cinema as an art-form. After all even if a Director's Cut of a much-lamented movie is released it's rarely the last version to be released, even many 'definitive' cuts are followed by endless reimaginings (Blade Runner, anyone?). Reasons for this can vary; concerns about mainstream appeal, a film being wrestled from the control of those at the helm by financiers, a relentless self-examiner's unhappiness with their own 'finished' product, even fan dissatisfaction at inferior transfers and edits has to be taken into consideration. 1973's Ganja & Hess is one such case, rebuilt and put out as intended after 42 years as a sliced and diced B-movie. Originally it was conceived by producers Kelly Jordan Enterprises as one of five projects aimed at the burgeoning African-American audience, each one made with a different cast and crew and for the relatively low budget of $350,000. A noble idea it seemed and excitement only rose when talented jack-of-all-trades Bill Gunn was hired for the second. For the uninitiated Gunn was a talented writer and actor but had only directed once before (1970's Stop was made but never released), his most well-known gig being the acerbic screenplay for Hal Ashby's The Landlord (although anyone taking the title Ganja & Hess as a pointer and expecting another Harold And Maude may be sorely disappointed), but he's often described as a forerunner to Spike Lee, an unhelpful but at least mildly fitting comparison as Lee has just remade G&H under the title Da Sweet Blood Of Jesus, a name almost as awful as the six the original was saddled with (among them the nonsensically racist Vampires Of Harlem) after Jordan took control, Gunn took his name off the credits and the film itself took a new form having been edited to within an inch of its life. I've yet to see it but if it's anything like as pointless as Lee's simultaneously souped-up and dumbed-down, wanking-misogynist take on Park Chan-wook's revenge classic Oldboy he might as well take it to the vet now and have it put out of its misery. That aside, the film industry is the film industry and only after Gunn had been tempted with the prize of getting to direct again did Jordan's real agenda come to light - they wanted him to make a Blaxploitation vampire film in the vein of the previous year's lifeless, lurid shock hit Blacula. Now stop laughing, I'm serious. Thankfully Gunn was Gunn and he soon abandoned the studio's vision for a vamp who can't turn traditionally pale and delivered a deeply unsettling, visually innovative, psychedelic, psychosexual drama about black assimilation that never actually mentions the word 'vampire', instead having the opening voiceover from the Rev Luther Williams (who moonlights as a part-time chauffeur and stableman to make rent and doesn't narrate again, only returning for the incredible final 15 minutes) speak of the main character Dr Hess Green's 'addiction', although quite how he knows this is questionable as Gunn then shows us the events that lead up to the emergence of the 'addiction' giving us knowledge most of the characters don't even have. Perhaps Williams' words are a flash-forward, said after the fact, but other scenes showing Hess watching an injured man at the scene of a car accident suggest that his bloodlust may already exist. The act of a person being sired by biting is also disposed of, here Hess turns after being attacked by his troubled motormouth archaeological assistant George Meda (a restless, frightening turn by Gunn himself) with a dagger they have been studying that dates back to an ancient Myrthian race similarly afflicted with a need for the red stuff. However it's possible to read this as a dream sequence Hess has invented to justify the post-drink orgasmic recline he's disgusted by to the world and himself. Likewise other characters while undoubtedly monstrous are still marked by their humanity; Meda insists upon his last name being used because he dislikes his first even though everyone else is addressed in the reverse; Ganja (another nod towards addiction) arrives cursing and hurt by her husband's apparent abandonment of her and, even after apparently becoming like Hess, complains about the cold; Hess' invitation to let Ganja to stay with him could come from a place of sympathy but also from lust of one kind or another. In form there's little to nothing in common with any traditional horror film either, one scene even invokes Ingmar Bergman with Marlene Clark giving an intense monologue almost directly to the audience. Race is the chief subject here and Gunn similarly turns it and Jordan's stereotypical expectations on their head with Hess a well educated, successful pillar of society who while integrated into society is still keenly aware of his status as "the only black on his block". Despite, or perhaps because of, this he has black servants, one of whom says that he "came with the house" and when Ganja arrives she mistakes Hess for one of the staff. In a delicious twist Hess' talking Meda out of suicide because "if a black guy dies in this neighbourhood the cops will come knocking on my door" also ends up leading to his downfall. Playing Hess is Duane Jones, otherwise known as Ben in George A. Romero's Night Of The Living Dead and he too plays against type, rejecting his fame as a horror star in favour of failing and flailing human emotion. If I've made the film sound overstuffed or overcomplicated it really isn't, I'm just out of practice. It's complex sure and I can certainly see that it won't be to everyone's taste but I doubt many will regret making it a priority.
No comments:
Post a Comment