At the risk of sounding incredibly vain, I'll mention a few of the characters whom I have used to "construct" my villainous persona. By that I mean creating those components of a villain in roleplay that are necessarily inventions because in real life I don't want to do horrible things to damsels. Another way of putting it is that the personalities below intersect with my own if I were actually living out my fantasy life. To some extent, they reveal the "hidden me" obscured by the tedious conventions of everyday life.
Some are real historical personages, some are famous characters from fiction. Some (not many) have traits I admire; more have flaws I guess I also possess.
I wanted to avoid the obvious cliches -- I mean, I know my nom de guerre is Sylvester Sneakly, but that's just because I want to trap Penelope Pitstop. I do not want the high-pitched voice of Paul Lynde. Nor should I have to: my real life voice is pretty low (not gravelly) and (I am told) mellifluous. I guess I give good phone lol.
Most of the names here are from English language literature and history. There are great differences in cultural attitudes to villainy. In most Anglo-Saxon melodrama, the villain is exceedingly smart and powerful, making him a very capable threat to hero and heroine alike. All you need to add is a sporty loucheness, and the heroine is really in dire distress! The French tradition often has the most genuinely terrifying villains being extremely stupid. Stupidity is dangerous because of its random destructiveness. It reveals much of French attitudes that evil intelligence is less feared than evil stupidity -- at least you can reason and negotiate with the former. I think the French really have a point here.
However, I am more in the English than French speaking world, though I grew up with both. I find playing evil intelligence a lot more fun than playing stupidity. So here are the 'villains' (or not) I channel while I have our heroine in my clutches:
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester (1647-1680):
The notorious wit and rake of the English Restoration, an indiscriminate boozer, hustler, and fornicator with both men, women and probably other things. He died, horribly but inevitably, of the pox (syphilis) in his early 30s. Oops -- don't you hate when that happens? A movie about his life, The Libertine, starring Johnny Depp, was released a few years ago. It was savagely panned by the likes of Entertainment Weekly. To be sure, the technical aspects of the movie are terrible (editing, sound, etc) but all the performances are startling. I am a huge Johnny Depp fan and he gives Rochester all the wit, danger, and charisma of the real person. I think the real problem many people have with the film is that it truly depicts the spirit of the Restoration -- a period whose people would look on our times with derision, laugh at us and make us feel small.
Anyway, enough digression. Rochester was smart, very handsome, with a rapier wit and absolutely no compunction about using others to suit his ends. A true model villain for me. Great at parties. Decent poet. Rochester, appropriately enough, kidnapped his future wife when she was eighteen. Just bundled her into his carriage, and took her. She stayed with him to the end. In that respect at least, my kind of guy lol.
Cardinal Richelieu (1585-1642):
The villain of the Three Musketeers; also, in history, the architect of the France we know today, who saved the country from the collapse caused by the Wars of Religion. His will was inflexible, his energy implacable.
Here is a synopsis from a new biography on Richelieu by Anthony Levi. "For a man who might justifiably lay claim to being the father of the French nation, Cardinal Richelieu , the first minister of King Louis XIII's council, was quite remarkably unpopular. His overtaxed countrymen, ever rebellious during his lifetime, lit bonfires to celebrate his death, and "it may well be true," according to his new biographer, "that it is impossible to name any historical personage in French public life who has provoked more hatred." [Richelieu was] a complex man of manipulative intelligence and inexhaustible nervous energy, capable of good humor and charm as well as violent mood swings."
Captain Nemo (20 000 Leagues Under the Sea):
Jules Verne's classic villain. A tortured soul, inscrutably bent on revenge against civiliation, Nemo is both cultured and estranged. I like drawing on him as an explanation of villainy - some tragedy in the past, some injustice, that has warped a clever mind into twisted evil and total paranoia.
Cary Grant (1904-1986):
The ultimate male movie star. How boring today's leading men are by comparison. He was suave, debonair, but there was a hard, impenetrable centre to him - probably the result of growing up Archie Leach, a poor boy with an insane single mother, eking out a hardscrabble existence on the London vaudeville stage before moving to New York with nothing more than the shirt on his back. He could, and did, play both hero and villain at a time when Hollywood did not often let you mix and match types as an actor.
Joker and Riddler (Batman comics and movies):
Both Batman villains intrigue me. I have found Joker a bit too brutal for heroines, Riddler a bit too fey, so I like drawing on both of them, each balancing the other's limitations, for camp value. Plus, I can do the Riddler's demented cackle just like Frank Gorshin did.
Edward III, King of England (1327-1377):
A vastly tall, blond Plantagenet, "with a face like a god" according to contemporaries, Edward III launched what has come down to us as the Hundred Years' War. I can recall the thumbnail sketch of him in Desmond Seward's very readable book on the war --- I am quoting purely from memory, so it won't be perfectly accurate:
"Edward III was one of England's most formidable kings. No one will ever know what drove him -- a father complex or simple megalomania -- but for over thirty years he ruled the country with a demonic energy. The cult of chivalry, so much admired in its day, has obscured the man beneath, yet a personality nevertheless emerges: extravagant in friendship, hardhearted and cruel in enmity, he was also a relentless womanizer who eventually ruined his health. He saw himself as the perfect hero-king, but for all this he was also practical and clear-headed: his motto was 'It is as it is.'"
Except for the womanizing part and the crown (and if my face is 'that of a god' it's not an A-lister deity) -- wow, that's pretty close to the real me.
To this day the upper (male) echelons of British royalty carry the title KG after their names, which stands for Knight of the Garter and originated as a military decoration in the Hundred Years' War of the 14th and 15th centuries. The Order started when Edward, making "outrageous advances" to the Countess of Salisbury, the beautiful nineteen year old daughter of one of his closest friends, removed her garter from her leg, put it on his arm, and dared anyone to say anything with the line "Honi soit qui mal y pense" (shame on him who thinks ill of this". The slogan -- and the garter! -- can be found on Royal Coat of Arms to this day.
Mr Darcy (Pride and Prejudice):
"Hardly a villain!" all Jane Austen fans will protest. Entirely the point. Cold, sneering, distant, Mr Darcy eventually wins Elizabeth Bennet, mostly through irritating her to the point of distraction. A lesson for all "nice guys" out there.
I especially liked the portrayal by Matthew MacFadyen in the recent movie based on the book. I seldom like Jane Austen's men -- the world they inhabit is too closed, too girly to appeal to me. I know I am not being fair to Jane Austen, whom I admire from a distance -- but she did set her novels in what she knew: the rather privileged (although fragile) and fairly useless world of late 18th century English gentry. There are only so many tea parties I can handle. Anyway, MacFadyen does a great job of being a man in this movie, not a little cardboard cut-out whose sole purpose it is to eventually fall in love with the deserving heroine.
And -- in case I am giving you the wrong impression by all the reprobates above -- no, I am not promiscuous, alcoholic, bisexual, paranoid, distant, or delusional. But it is fun to pretend.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
A Canterbury Tale
Reposted from a long time ago....
A Canterbury Tale
I recently saw again a favourite film of mine, one I had not seen in ages: Michael Powell’s A Canterbury Tale, made in the UK in 1943. The opening sequence is a landmark: it shows a group of medieval pilgrims out of Chaucer, ends with a falconer releasing a hawk, which rises in the air, changing into a Spitfire which then comes down at the falconer, now wearing a helmet and an Army uniform. It was later stolen by Kubrick for the classic shot out of 2001, where the ape tosses up the bone and it comes down as a space station.
Now, this is in many ways a weird film: the central plot involves discovering “the glue man” who is dumping glue on the hair of women who dare stray out after dark, in order to deter them from dating those horrid Yank servicemen stationed all over Kent (where Powell was raised: he knows every inch of the Canterbury area, and it shows.) Never mind the bizarre silliness of the idea – Powell uses it, in my view, to tremendous, though highly idiosyncratic effect. For example, when the female lead (Sheila Sim, who would later become Lady Attenborough, is tremendously appealing as a doughty but vulnerable and damaged character) has her hair glued, there is a shot which closes with her head in a bucket, her hair being soaped and washed by five pairs of male hands. Weird.
Anyway, the reason for highlighting this is, as you might guess, the villain: Culpepper, played by the amazing Eric Portman. For subtlety, sympathy, attenuated charisma and threat – whose villainy is less and less obvious as the film goes on – you can’t do any better than Portman in this film.
I can’t say enough about how much I relate to this figure – not the vaguely creepy glue jobs, of course, but the twisted morals, the profound loneliness, the irony of being in a position of respect in his public life and reviled in his alter ego. Portman breathes into it a sadness so deep, an alienation so complete that you almost don’t see it at first.
It helps me (if I may flatter myself) that my speaking voice, altered for accent of course, is not that far away from Portman’s. His voice has the same smoothness as mine, although even his has a slight tang (not twang – I mean something acidic) to it that mine doesn’t.
If you want to see what my villainy is like – hell, you want to see what my real personality is like, watch the scene in this movie where Portman’s character is holding a lecture for the servicemen. It’s one of the most striking visual sequences in black and white film I have seen -- at times blatantly so, then turning to great subtlety in the blink of an eye.
If you do view it, I hope you can see the greatness behind the technical limitations of the time and the velly odd 1930s actor’s diction that comes out of Miss Sim (“Oh, end how dooo we dooo theyat, I wondah?”) I didn’t say she was sexy; I said she was extremely appealing. Oh, and please see the UK version, not the US version, with its moronic (though charming in its own obsolete way) bracketing story. Just like The Third Man – for Jah’s sake, see the UK version, for the US has a different opening voiceover that completely changes the tone of the film.
A Canterbury Tale
I recently saw again a favourite film of mine, one I had not seen in ages: Michael Powell’s A Canterbury Tale, made in the UK in 1943. The opening sequence is a landmark: it shows a group of medieval pilgrims out of Chaucer, ends with a falconer releasing a hawk, which rises in the air, changing into a Spitfire which then comes down at the falconer, now wearing a helmet and an Army uniform. It was later stolen by Kubrick for the classic shot out of 2001, where the ape tosses up the bone and it comes down as a space station.
Now, this is in many ways a weird film: the central plot involves discovering “the glue man” who is dumping glue on the hair of women who dare stray out after dark, in order to deter them from dating those horrid Yank servicemen stationed all over Kent (where Powell was raised: he knows every inch of the Canterbury area, and it shows.) Never mind the bizarre silliness of the idea – Powell uses it, in my view, to tremendous, though highly idiosyncratic effect. For example, when the female lead (Sheila Sim, who would later become Lady Attenborough, is tremendously appealing as a doughty but vulnerable and damaged character) has her hair glued, there is a shot which closes with her head in a bucket, her hair being soaped and washed by five pairs of male hands. Weird.
Anyway, the reason for highlighting this is, as you might guess, the villain: Culpepper, played by the amazing Eric Portman. For subtlety, sympathy, attenuated charisma and threat – whose villainy is less and less obvious as the film goes on – you can’t do any better than Portman in this film.
I can’t say enough about how much I relate to this figure – not the vaguely creepy glue jobs, of course, but the twisted morals, the profound loneliness, the irony of being in a position of respect in his public life and reviled in his alter ego. Portman breathes into it a sadness so deep, an alienation so complete that you almost don’t see it at first.
It helps me (if I may flatter myself) that my speaking voice, altered for accent of course, is not that far away from Portman’s. His voice has the same smoothness as mine, although even his has a slight tang (not twang – I mean something acidic) to it that mine doesn’t.
If you want to see what my villainy is like – hell, you want to see what my real personality is like, watch the scene in this movie where Portman’s character is holding a lecture for the servicemen. It’s one of the most striking visual sequences in black and white film I have seen -- at times blatantly so, then turning to great subtlety in the blink of an eye.
If you do view it, I hope you can see the greatness behind the technical limitations of the time and the velly odd 1930s actor’s diction that comes out of Miss Sim (“Oh, end how dooo we dooo theyat, I wondah?”) I didn’t say she was sexy; I said she was extremely appealing. Oh, and please see the UK version, not the US version, with its moronic (though charming in its own obsolete way) bracketing story. Just like The Third Man – for Jah’s sake, see the UK version, for the US has a different opening voiceover that completely changes the tone of the film.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Adversity builds character
I've been inspired recently by a new correspondance to dig up some out-of-print blog entries from my Yahoo 360 days and re-post them. These are, oh, maybe 5 years old in some cases. They're so old, don't think of them as re-runs. They're encore presentations! Who knows how old this first one is. I am guessing 2007.
Adversity builds (villainous) character
Hollywood and fictionmongers in general often make a hash when called upon to make a back story for villains. The horrible Hannibal Lecter prequel is just the worst of a bad lot. The hash (in my view) made of the bildung of Darth Vader is another example of how not to do it.
Even the back story to such a “my kind of guy” villain as Magneto in the X-men movies (I have no idea how true it is to the comics) really let me down in its over-simplification. And really, the setting of the Magneto story is so resonant for me and the character (at least Sir Ian McKellen’s rendering of it) is so close to my personality in a lot of scary ways) that if you can’t sell me on that story hook line and sinker, you’ve messed something up badly.
It might make good drama to have a few key pivotal events force a moral choice on a villain, but the reality is, I think, more subtle. Villainy is not a trauma or a wound, it is an integral part of one’s personality, and it originates not in choices, but observations. Ever noticed that people lie? Ever noticed your so called betters are fools? Ever noticed things aren’t fair? Ever noticed more mischief occurs out of character weakness than strength? Well, how should I handle that? Villains have logical, if sociopathic answers.
I can give you some of the moments in my experience growing up that, looking back now, I believe contributed not just to my villainous persona online, but to my RL character, good or bad. I think this may show (again, probably to my detriment) the degree to which my villainous persona is not really an alter ego, but a distortion, or amplification, of what I am really like.
Camping with cretins
Like a lot of kids, I was sent to summer camp. It was a pretty good one, but I still hated it, except for the brief real camping part, where to earn your spurs they sent groups of 10 year olds with some pot-addled teenage councillor thug on 1-3 day canoe trips. Well, on the first and supposedly easiest such trip, we take compass readings about half way through the expedition and everyone’s compass reads a different direction. Not a little different, but a lot. North is everywhere. I am thinking lodestone, but the none-too-bright councillor “leading” us decided that, since his compass said north was that-a-way, that was indeed where north was.
I insisted that navigating by the sun in July for such a short distance with such clear markers as cliffs and swamps could hardly be inferior to just picking the tallest guy’s compass. I went unheeded; my fellow campers were either dolts, or obsequious, or both.. Sure enough, within an hour we were climbing down 500 ft cliffs – with no safety gear –- into horrid, mosquito-dominated marshes. I was lucky to get back alive, but mostly I was outraged that we missed Friday supper, which was usually the best meal of the week.
I won’t even bring up my bout of dysentery, and the recommendation (in July) – that I might stop drinking water as the local water must have caused it – save to say that my parents thought I was something out of a concentration camp when they saw me a fortnight later.
I realized during the hike that this was how the world worked – chain of command more important that the right answer, even at risk of life and limb. I have in general held authority in contempt ever since and have seldom been proven wrong.
Nearly killed by a dog and learning to like them
When I was about 11 or 12, I was walking late at night past a church when a large dog came racing across the lawn, barking and snarling at me. At the time I was a little frightened of large dogs. I backed up away from the animal, between two parked cars. I must have backed out too far into the street because I felt the swish of car brush against my backside as it sped past in the dark. One more step back and I would have been killed, in all likelihood.
Well, that peeved me. I looked at the dog, and all I wanted to do at that moment was to kick its butt, regardless of how much damage it could inflict on me. I was on a mission to teach the cur a lesson, I hoped a terminal one. The dog sensed my anger and as I moved toward it in a blind rage, it started to cower, finally turning tail and running.
I came to understand a lot about the use and exercise of power and violence in that episode. The lessons, I have found, are even more applicable to people than they are to animals, who seldom deserve to have their butts kicked.
I have no longstanding dread of dogs, as it happens. The funny thing is, this episode was a first step on the road to learning when and how to command, and if anything I am grateful that a dog, of all things, started me on that road. I actually started to like dogs, because I started to understand them – and no, I don’t mean as dispensers and recipients of violence, but their reactions and dare I say “thought processes.” I naturally understood cats a lot earlier, for cats’ solitary nature is closer to my own.
Although the second episode could be called traumatic, I would hardly say that the traumatic aspects of it were what made me “think like a villain.” Instead, the lesson that episode taught me in a roundabout way about socialization made it even easier to have the sort of engaged/detached mindset that separates what I would consider a villain from, say, just a bully, or just a hermit.
Adversity builds (villainous) character
Hollywood and fictionmongers in general often make a hash when called upon to make a back story for villains. The horrible Hannibal Lecter prequel is just the worst of a bad lot. The hash (in my view) made of the bildung of Darth Vader is another example of how not to do it.
Even the back story to such a “my kind of guy” villain as Magneto in the X-men movies (I have no idea how true it is to the comics) really let me down in its over-simplification. And really, the setting of the Magneto story is so resonant for me and the character (at least Sir Ian McKellen’s rendering of it) is so close to my personality in a lot of scary ways) that if you can’t sell me on that story hook line and sinker, you’ve messed something up badly.
It might make good drama to have a few key pivotal events force a moral choice on a villain, but the reality is, I think, more subtle. Villainy is not a trauma or a wound, it is an integral part of one’s personality, and it originates not in choices, but observations. Ever noticed that people lie? Ever noticed your so called betters are fools? Ever noticed things aren’t fair? Ever noticed more mischief occurs out of character weakness than strength? Well, how should I handle that? Villains have logical, if sociopathic answers.
I can give you some of the moments in my experience growing up that, looking back now, I believe contributed not just to my villainous persona online, but to my RL character, good or bad. I think this may show (again, probably to my detriment) the degree to which my villainous persona is not really an alter ego, but a distortion, or amplification, of what I am really like.
Camping with cretins
Like a lot of kids, I was sent to summer camp. It was a pretty good one, but I still hated it, except for the brief real camping part, where to earn your spurs they sent groups of 10 year olds with some pot-addled teenage councillor thug on 1-3 day canoe trips. Well, on the first and supposedly easiest such trip, we take compass readings about half way through the expedition and everyone’s compass reads a different direction. Not a little different, but a lot. North is everywhere. I am thinking lodestone, but the none-too-bright councillor “leading” us decided that, since his compass said north was that-a-way, that was indeed where north was.
I insisted that navigating by the sun in July for such a short distance with such clear markers as cliffs and swamps could hardly be inferior to just picking the tallest guy’s compass. I went unheeded; my fellow campers were either dolts, or obsequious, or both.. Sure enough, within an hour we were climbing down 500 ft cliffs – with no safety gear –- into horrid, mosquito-dominated marshes. I was lucky to get back alive, but mostly I was outraged that we missed Friday supper, which was usually the best meal of the week.
I won’t even bring up my bout of dysentery, and the recommendation (in July) – that I might stop drinking water as the local water must have caused it – save to say that my parents thought I was something out of a concentration camp when they saw me a fortnight later.
I realized during the hike that this was how the world worked – chain of command more important that the right answer, even at risk of life and limb. I have in general held authority in contempt ever since and have seldom been proven wrong.
Nearly killed by a dog and learning to like them
When I was about 11 or 12, I was walking late at night past a church when a large dog came racing across the lawn, barking and snarling at me. At the time I was a little frightened of large dogs. I backed up away from the animal, between two parked cars. I must have backed out too far into the street because I felt the swish of car brush against my backside as it sped past in the dark. One more step back and I would have been killed, in all likelihood.
Well, that peeved me. I looked at the dog, and all I wanted to do at that moment was to kick its butt, regardless of how much damage it could inflict on me. I was on a mission to teach the cur a lesson, I hoped a terminal one. The dog sensed my anger and as I moved toward it in a blind rage, it started to cower, finally turning tail and running.
I came to understand a lot about the use and exercise of power and violence in that episode. The lessons, I have found, are even more applicable to people than they are to animals, who seldom deserve to have their butts kicked.
I have no longstanding dread of dogs, as it happens. The funny thing is, this episode was a first step on the road to learning when and how to command, and if anything I am grateful that a dog, of all things, started me on that road. I actually started to like dogs, because I started to understand them – and no, I don’t mean as dispensers and recipients of violence, but their reactions and dare I say “thought processes.” I naturally understood cats a lot earlier, for cats’ solitary nature is closer to my own.
Although the second episode could be called traumatic, I would hardly say that the traumatic aspects of it were what made me “think like a villain.” Instead, the lesson that episode taught me in a roundabout way about socialization made it even easier to have the sort of engaged/detached mindset that separates what I would consider a villain from, say, just a bully, or just a hermit.
Friday, June 22, 2012
First post in a long time, I know. I have been busy, but really I just haven't had anything new to say, and others (Babygothgirl, for example) are doing a far better job posting videos and photos than I ever could.
But I just want to acknowledge that, for the first time in a very long time, someone responded to the blog wanting to RP -- this someone comes across as intelligent, sane, and courteous. So, I guess the blog is not useless after all...
But I just want to acknowledge that, for the first time in a very long time, someone responded to the blog wanting to RP -- this someone comes across as intelligent, sane, and courteous. So, I guess the blog is not useless after all...
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Good Role Playing
I have mentioned plenty of times how in my view the main ingredient in a good RP partner is sincerity and commitment to the scenario. It's not technique - there is no "right" way to do it. All that is required is for my partner to react genuinely as if she were in the peril (or the moment, wherever we are in an RP).
It occurred to me that this might be seen as incompatible with a true "role play" in the sense of, say, a superheroine character who is very extensively defined as to capabilities and personality.
I don't think so. Anyone RPing such a character is doing so because it gives him or her a thrill or some other rewarding experience. So even if the character has personality traits unlike that of the person typing at the other end, he/she has (ideally) revealed something by choosing that character. If my RP partner is fully participating in a fully reactive way, writing as if she *were* that character, then her role is still sincere. If she is second guessing her response, consciously checking for consistency, it's not genuine and then, for me, not fulfilling.
I actually do think I can tell the difference. It's harder with email than IM -- in IM indifference or calculation reveals itself in countless ways. But even in email the truth ultimately comes out.
Oh yes, and if I have written something for you, and you like it? I do expect a little reciprocation.... let me in. Make a little effort and I'll meet you 90% of the way your end.
It occurred to me that this might be seen as incompatible with a true "role play" in the sense of, say, a superheroine character who is very extensively defined as to capabilities and personality.
I don't think so. Anyone RPing such a character is doing so because it gives him or her a thrill or some other rewarding experience. So even if the character has personality traits unlike that of the person typing at the other end, he/she has (ideally) revealed something by choosing that character. If my RP partner is fully participating in a fully reactive way, writing as if she *were* that character, then her role is still sincere. If she is second guessing her response, consciously checking for consistency, it's not genuine and then, for me, not fulfilling.
I actually do think I can tell the difference. It's harder with email than IM -- in IM indifference or calculation reveals itself in countless ways. But even in email the truth ultimately comes out.
Oh yes, and if I have written something for you, and you like it? I do expect a little reciprocation.... let me in. Make a little effort and I'll meet you 90% of the way your end.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Evil Henchgirls
Second only to my love of good damsels in distress is my love of bad girls in service of the villain. I know Vanessa Doofen-whatever (of Phineas and Ferb) is not really evil, blah blah blah, but work with me here. Since I enjoy damsels in the clutches of evil villainesses (villainesses get away with more torture of the damsel before it gets icky or creepy) what better than a sexy evil female minion to torment a damsel I have captured?Sexy female accomplices were a staple of the old campfest 60s Batman series: characters like Lydia Limpet or Pauline were the perfect accompaniment to the ridiculous arch villains they served.
There is even a discussion of the hottest Batman evil sidekicks. I even like the idea of an unwitting female accomplice turning on her villainous boss, only to be captured and placed in peril herself!
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