I was thinking about the form of musicals and generally how easily they can take on a lighter tone. In Pajama Game we generally feel this lighter tone amongst the musical scores and brightly designed costumes. This lends to the portrayal as the union as a good thing and a way for workers to have the ability to control the nature of business. In Bissel’s novel, we see more of a sarcastic, critical and bleak picture of this world. When reading the book I would never imagine Babe Williams parading around in a bright blue trench coat. Bissel’s world, to me, seems dull and boring and immensely more painful to live through.
I wonder then if this is because of this difference in interpretation, the transfer from literature into a lighthearted musical, or merely an attempt on the part of the screenwriters to give a more favorable view on factory life. From the pictures we saw in class today we would assume that it is the first, as many union workers seemed to enjoy the thrill of a strike. Yet, I think more importantly that we are again brought back to the question of form and interpretation. It would be difficult to translate Bissel’s critique of the working world into a romantic musical comedy like the Pajama Game simply because the form of a musical and the ever-existing need for romantics in cinema. On interpretation, it seems again the difference between a collective view of a story and the individual view.
I read Bissel’s novel much as it was his own personal beliefs on factory life. In Sid Sorokin’s bled the personality I figured was engrained in the author. His voice, although often ignorant, seemed to project the absurdity of everything happening within the functions of “Sleep Tite.” He often rejects Babe’s pleas of understanding that everything will simply work out in the end (which it does) without anyone needing to get hurt. His final act of quitting seems to represent Bissel’s overall rejection of this world as just a naturalistic force where things simply happen without regard to people.
A musical does not really have room for this personal satire. Sid Sorokin’s focus must blend in with the commune of dance and work and picnics. His voice will not be heard above the singing joy of flamboyant sewers. This also coincides with the structure of making a film or a musical. So many pieces function as important that it is impossible to retain the sort of critical analysis within the novel. While the rhythm of dancing might lend to show the true nature of the working environment, it doesn’t show its absurdity (perhaps it does), but rather a more technical detail of the life.
I think that the loss of personality here is important when considering an adaptation. It causes the meaning of them to shift in an entirely new way. If the meaning of this is lost, why is it adapted in the first place? Does the story simply serve as a vessel to give a light-hearted, romantic twist on the union? Why then do they need the story at all?
Just another thought on why considering adaptation is useless.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Politics of Parody (And Singin' and Dancin')
I didn’t see anything overtly political about the film The Pajama Game. Any labor politics (or management politics for that matter) seemed predominantly peripheral elements of the happy-go-lucky, boy-meets-girl, “Gee Babe, you’re swell!”, 50s film narrative. But there is an implicit political critique running throughout the film in its use of parody. The film parodies labor sabotage (in the over-exaggerated movements of the workers during the “slow-down”), consumerist culture (listing the various things in song that 7 ½ more cents can by), and pulp (I’m thinking about the seedy bar the characters go to that they need a match to see in). There are also other objects of parody throughout the film that I can’t remember or just missed. Is there any scholarship on the film as a parody? And if not, what are some ways we can read the film’s politics into its use of parody?
Also, do musicals in general offer a certain amount of parody in their form, especially since nobody—at least nobody considered legally sane or normal—breaks out in song and dance in everyday life? (I could see the film parodying a sit-in strike by having a dance-in strike.) But besides being a form of parody, maybe breaking out in song and dance is a form of political resistance. I’m thinking in particular of those IWW members who when arrested, especially if a lot of them were arrested together, would spend their time in the cell singing and making noise to drive the guards and perhaps the town nuts
Also, do musicals in general offer a certain amount of parody in their form, especially since nobody—at least nobody considered legally sane or normal—breaks out in song and dance in everyday life? (I could see the film parodying a sit-in strike by having a dance-in strike.) But besides being a form of parody, maybe breaking out in song and dance is a form of political resistance. I’m thinking in particular of those IWW members who when arrested, especially if a lot of them were arrested together, would spend their time in the cell singing and making noise to drive the guards and perhaps the town nuts
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
jammies
I felt the focus on labor throughout the film was very minimal. The film seemed to be focused much more heavily around the romance, with the labor concepts functioning more as a background device used to provide context for the relationship between Sid and Babe. All of the events in the film seem to serve or move the relationship, and the relationship is always at the foreground of the story.
As mentioned in previous blog posts, the trials of the union and the laborers are belittled in the film, taking a back seat to the relationship between Sid and Babe. Their relationship seems to suck all the seriousness out of any other events. Sid fires Babe, but there are no significant consequences. Hines' chased Sid, the superintendent, with throwing-knives and nothing more became of that. The relationship on the other hand was very serious and, at least to me, seemed to be the only high stake in the film. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It is a musical with a lot of sentiment injected into it, but that's one tried and true way to sweep people off their feet (some people). The elements of romance, as we stated in class, are a little outdated now, so this film likely does not have the same effect on me as it did on the audiences of the '50s. The concept of manhood seemed to be pretty normal, not too exaggerated in this film, keeping in mind the times. The film seemed to be smoothed out and tamed to make it more accessible.
The dancing. I liked the dancing. I'm no critic when it comes to dancing, though, because I don't see a lot of dancing, I don't know anything about the technical or theoretical aspects of dancing, and I'm a poor dancer. Sooo I don't have much context to judge this musical against, but just as an initial thoughtless reaction, I enjoyed the dancing, particularly one of the union dances: the one that sounded like a swing/big bandish song where the dancers all went ssshshhhhhh as they put their hats on. I saw a lot of moves that probably influenced Michael Jackson's dancing. Well, maybe. There were a lot of jacksonish spins and this glidey sideways walking thing that looked like the prehistoric relative of the moonwalk.
As mentioned in previous blog posts, the trials of the union and the laborers are belittled in the film, taking a back seat to the relationship between Sid and Babe. Their relationship seems to suck all the seriousness out of any other events. Sid fires Babe, but there are no significant consequences. Hines' chased Sid, the superintendent, with throwing-knives and nothing more became of that. The relationship on the other hand was very serious and, at least to me, seemed to be the only high stake in the film. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It is a musical with a lot of sentiment injected into it, but that's one tried and true way to sweep people off their feet (some people). The elements of romance, as we stated in class, are a little outdated now, so this film likely does not have the same effect on me as it did on the audiences of the '50s. The concept of manhood seemed to be pretty normal, not too exaggerated in this film, keeping in mind the times. The film seemed to be smoothed out and tamed to make it more accessible.
The dancing. I liked the dancing. I'm no critic when it comes to dancing, though, because I don't see a lot of dancing, I don't know anything about the technical or theoretical aspects of dancing, and I'm a poor dancer. Sooo I don't have much context to judge this musical against, but just as an initial thoughtless reaction, I enjoyed the dancing, particularly one of the union dances: the one that sounded like a swing/big bandish song where the dancers all went ssshshhhhhh as they put their hats on. I saw a lot of moves that probably influenced Michael Jackson's dancing. Well, maybe. There were a lot of jacksonish spins and this glidey sideways walking thing that looked like the prehistoric relative of the moonwalk.
The Pajama GAME
Ok, Meaghan stole my title.
Disclaimer: this was one of my favorite movies when I was about twelve and it was one of the first movies I ever bought for myself. Having said that, I think it's pretty cool to see the movie from my 12-year old standpoint, and then again 10 years later.
I capitalized the word game in my title, because that's what I think this story/film is: a political game, with Sid and Babe as the key players. The literally do a "song and dance" around each other and the issue of the 7 1/2 cent raise. When Sid first asks Babe out, she says no, and explains that her reasoning is simple: he is the superintendent and she is the grievance committee. It can't work. Later on, in the midst of the "Small Talk" number, Babe again pleads with Sid because she is scared that the strike will come between them. She's right. I like the addition of the scene where Sid fires Babe. She took a big risk jamming the line in the factory, and as the superintendent, Sid had every right to fire her. If felt as if Babe tried to play the odds, and in that instance, failed.
I know we haven't discussed it in class, but I think it's also interesting to look at the changes from the Broadway musical to the film. Censorship is obviously an aspect of adaptation for this film. In the song, "I'm Not At All in Love," Babe's line is changed from "All you gotta do is be polite with him, and they've got you spending the night with him," to the film's version, "All you gotta do it seems is work for him, and they've gotcha going berserk for him." It seems that the original Broadway version of that line would fit better with the original novel. There are also some small changes due to language. In "Small Talk," the line "What do you think they charge for ham now? Got so a buck ain't worth a damn now," is changed to "What do you think they charge for fruit now? Got so a buck ain't worth a hoot now." One of the most interesting changes to me, however, is that Prez, the president of the Union, has a larger role in the show. He has his own storyline in which he tries to woo Gladys, Hasler's secretary. There was a slight hint of it in the film when he says something like, "Her is the most beautiful girl" to Gladys while at Hernando's Hideaway (amazing number when seen live). "Her Is" is an number in the show that is sung in the first act and reprised in the second. So I am curious if Prez's storyline was cut because he was just a secondary character, or that giving him more screen time would thus give the union more screen time.
Disclaimer: this was one of my favorite movies when I was about twelve and it was one of the first movies I ever bought for myself. Having said that, I think it's pretty cool to see the movie from my 12-year old standpoint, and then again 10 years later.
I capitalized the word game in my title, because that's what I think this story/film is: a political game, with Sid and Babe as the key players. The literally do a "song and dance" around each other and the issue of the 7 1/2 cent raise. When Sid first asks Babe out, she says no, and explains that her reasoning is simple: he is the superintendent and she is the grievance committee. It can't work. Later on, in the midst of the "Small Talk" number, Babe again pleads with Sid because she is scared that the strike will come between them. She's right. I like the addition of the scene where Sid fires Babe. She took a big risk jamming the line in the factory, and as the superintendent, Sid had every right to fire her. If felt as if Babe tried to play the odds, and in that instance, failed.
I know we haven't discussed it in class, but I think it's also interesting to look at the changes from the Broadway musical to the film. Censorship is obviously an aspect of adaptation for this film. In the song, "I'm Not At All in Love," Babe's line is changed from "All you gotta do is be polite with him, and they've got you spending the night with him," to the film's version, "All you gotta do it seems is work for him, and they've gotcha going berserk for him." It seems that the original Broadway version of that line would fit better with the original novel. There are also some small changes due to language. In "Small Talk," the line "What do you think they charge for ham now? Got so a buck ain't worth a damn now," is changed to "What do you think they charge for fruit now? Got so a buck ain't worth a hoot now." One of the most interesting changes to me, however, is that Prez, the president of the Union, has a larger role in the show. He has his own storyline in which he tries to woo Gladys, Hasler's secretary. There was a slight hint of it in the film when he says something like, "Her is the most beautiful girl" to Gladys while at Hernando's Hideaway (amazing number when seen live). "Her Is" is an number in the show that is sung in the first act and reprised in the second. So I am curious if Prez's storyline was cut because he was just a secondary character, or that giving him more screen time would thus give the union more screen time.
seeing red
after reviewing the cover art of the new printing of the novel, i was constantly thinking of color in the film, and in particular, red. it's all about red in the pajama game–if you look carefully (or even not that carefully), in almost every scene there are both dominant and subtle elements of red scattered throughout. i started making a list and had to stop because there were so many, but here are a few:
• red dresses, skirts, and ribbons on the girls of the factory
• babe's red shoes and the red piping on her blue coat
• red heart buttons (part of the union?)
• red in the factory lights, exit signs, pipes, and giant spools of thread
• sid's red bowtie in the opening scene, his red striped shirt at the picnic
the most important symbol of red came during babe's reprise of "hey there," in which she sings about her inner conflict over sid. she tells herself to get over him and not to "let him make her fall apart." when she gets to the word "pride," the traffic light outside her window flashes to angry red, coloring her bedroom and her body in red light as she lies on her bed.
is that what red is about? pride? it reinforces the proud, standoffish image of babe on the cover of the novel, flashy red dress and staring in self-absorption into her compact mirror. and it makes sense that in the end, this is what she sacrifices in order to be with sid, and in order to win the "7 1/2 cents" even when they can't get retroactive pay for it ("but don't you see? we've won!").
and what do sid and babe come out in at the end of the musical? one shared pair of red pajamas.
• red dresses, skirts, and ribbons on the girls of the factory
• babe's red shoes and the red piping on her blue coat
• red heart buttons (part of the union?)
• red in the factory lights, exit signs, pipes, and giant spools of thread
• sid's red bowtie in the opening scene, his red striped shirt at the picnic
the most important symbol of red came during babe's reprise of "hey there," in which she sings about her inner conflict over sid. she tells herself to get over him and not to "let him make her fall apart." when she gets to the word "pride," the traffic light outside her window flashes to angry red, coloring her bedroom and her body in red light as she lies on her bed.
is that what red is about? pride? it reinforces the proud, standoffish image of babe on the cover of the novel, flashy red dress and staring in self-absorption into her compact mirror. and it makes sense that in the end, this is what she sacrifices in order to be with sid, and in order to win the "7 1/2 cents" even when they can't get retroactive pay for it ("but don't you see? we've won!").
and what do sid and babe come out in at the end of the musical? one shared pair of red pajamas.
The Pajama Party (edit at end)
OK, so I stole that from Rachael. But it's true; the end of the film kind of does turn into a big pajama party. The whole film is pretty much a pajama party. Like the story, none of the things that happen in the movie seem dire -- except for maybe Hines throwing knives. And I noticed that the film did try to create more of a conflict by having Sid fire Babe, but even that seemed to be fixed pretty quickly and easily at the end. And like Professor Newman said in class, the same thing happens at the end of the story.
Watching the film, I wondered how its creators were first inspired to turn the story into a musical. I mean, it didn't really scream song and dance numbers when I read it. But Sid does have a really heavy view of love in the story; he talks about how Babe makes everything totally fantastic, and the language he used to describe being in love was really different from his otherwise sarcastic voice. Like I said yesterday, though, I didn't really find the story that funny. But I think that the tone of the novel gave itself to the kind of raunchy humor that was displayed in the film, and Sid's view of love - yeah, when he wasn't being a pseudo-rapist - was represented in the love songs.
I also noticed that Doris Day's hair wasn't red, which was disappointing, because Sid called Babe "the redhead" in the story. But like I told Agatha, I think it's petty when people think a character's ruined just because the hair color's changed. At the same time, though, hair color has always meant a lot to me when reading about a character; it says something about their personality, about who they are. But I liked Doris Day as Babe. And to be honest, I didn't think that Sid seemed that operatic -- beyond his singing voice and that he seemed to dance with a very stiff spine.
As far as the dancing goes, I don't think it added anything political to the film. I'm not quite sure how it would. Parts of it were coyly sexual and there was that one song where Sid acted like a cowboy, which might have been a reference to his dominant attitude toward women. But the only big musicals I've seen are the most recent Hairspray and West Side Story, so I can't really say if being coyly sexual is part of most musicals or not. Rachael said that the Broadway version of The Pajama Game has much more explicit lyrics, though, that the film had to censor them.
* I just wanted to add that I may have heard that thing about musicals being coyly sexual in another class (es); I actually watched West Side Story for Juvenile Delinquency (go figure).
Watching the film, I wondered how its creators were first inspired to turn the story into a musical. I mean, it didn't really scream song and dance numbers when I read it. But Sid does have a really heavy view of love in the story; he talks about how Babe makes everything totally fantastic, and the language he used to describe being in love was really different from his otherwise sarcastic voice. Like I said yesterday, though, I didn't really find the story that funny. But I think that the tone of the novel gave itself to the kind of raunchy humor that was displayed in the film, and Sid's view of love - yeah, when he wasn't being a pseudo-rapist - was represented in the love songs.
I also noticed that Doris Day's hair wasn't red, which was disappointing, because Sid called Babe "the redhead" in the story. But like I told Agatha, I think it's petty when people think a character's ruined just because the hair color's changed. At the same time, though, hair color has always meant a lot to me when reading about a character; it says something about their personality, about who they are. But I liked Doris Day as Babe. And to be honest, I didn't think that Sid seemed that operatic -- beyond his singing voice and that he seemed to dance with a very stiff spine.
As far as the dancing goes, I don't think it added anything political to the film. I'm not quite sure how it would. Parts of it were coyly sexual and there was that one song where Sid acted like a cowboy, which might have been a reference to his dominant attitude toward women. But the only big musicals I've seen are the most recent Hairspray and West Side Story, so I can't really say if being coyly sexual is part of most musicals or not. Rachael said that the Broadway version of The Pajama Game has much more explicit lyrics, though, that the film had to censor them.
* I just wanted to add that I may have heard that thing about musicals being coyly sexual in another class (es); I actually watched West Side Story for Juvenile Delinquency (go figure).
Dancin' in the Streets
I have to preface this blog post by saying that I really think that the musical adaptation largely trivializes and undermines labor's importance, choosing instead to focus on the seriousness of Babe and Cid's romantic relationship. In fact, it's the romance that ultimately solves the problem, due to Cid's need to reunite with Babe. Additionally, the union's claims are repeatedly reduced to silliness and the workers are mocked as lazy drunks. As an aspiring member of management, Cid is presented as a hard working hero, while Babe never really explains her motivations for believing so strongly in the union. Clearly, many of the (already minimal) labor issues wound up on the cutting room floor as the novel moved to the silver screen and attempted to reach a broad audience.
However, I do think the film at least expresses class solidarity through the dances in the film. Upper management never dances in the film, and Cid's few dance steps are solitary and usually pretty lifeless. Hasler, on the other hand, never dances at all through the film. While this probably stems from the talent of the actors in the film, I do think that the traditional musical chorus does show some unity within the union. The most animated dance scenes involve the full chorus of factory workers in brightly patterned clothes moving in unison. The union picnic and the rally at the end utilize a full cast operating to produce an impressive visual effect. The well-rehearsed tangle of bodies at the picnic illustrates unity within the labor movement, but also fails to differentiate individuals.
However, the image of a chorus can be problematic as a lens to see the working class. While all members of the management team are stoic and not very fun in the film, they have clearly distinguished characters. The chorus remains a coordinated but faceless mass of bodies on the screen, blindly moving as one unit. I think this image is strengthened by the “dancing” steamed pajama tops in the first all-cast dance. The pajama tops fill up with hot air as a part of the choreography, but underline how replaceable anyone in the cast really is. They simply stand in as bodies within the factory setting and as consumers, never fully realized as characters.
However, I do think the film at least expresses class solidarity through the dances in the film. Upper management never dances in the film, and Cid's few dance steps are solitary and usually pretty lifeless. Hasler, on the other hand, never dances at all through the film. While this probably stems from the talent of the actors in the film, I do think that the traditional musical chorus does show some unity within the union. The most animated dance scenes involve the full chorus of factory workers in brightly patterned clothes moving in unison. The union picnic and the rally at the end utilize a full cast operating to produce an impressive visual effect. The well-rehearsed tangle of bodies at the picnic illustrates unity within the labor movement, but also fails to differentiate individuals.
However, the image of a chorus can be problematic as a lens to see the working class. While all members of the management team are stoic and not very fun in the film, they have clearly distinguished characters. The chorus remains a coordinated but faceless mass of bodies on the screen, blindly moving as one unit. I think this image is strengthened by the “dancing” steamed pajama tops in the first all-cast dance. The pajama tops fill up with hot air as a part of the choreography, but underline how replaceable anyone in the cast really is. They simply stand in as bodies within the factory setting and as consumers, never fully realized as characters.
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