Publicity
still featuring David Bowie as Cloud, from Pierrot
In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish
Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use
basis for educational/review purposes only)
As regular Shuker In MovieLand readers
will have surely discovered by now, I'm a devoted aficionado of extremely obscure,
exceedingly strange movies, especially from within the fantasy film genre. I'm
also a longstanding fan of the late great David Bowie's music. So imagine my
delight a couple of days ago when, after long being aware of it but never
having seen it (or expecting to), I finally tracked down online a truly
extraordinary TV fantasy mini-movie musical dating back over 50 years that
starred the Thin White Duke himself in one of his very first on-screen roles!
And to make things even more bizarre, I discovered it not on any Western
website but instead on a Japanese one! And what is the title of this delightful
discovery? Pierrot In Turquoise Or The
Looking Glass Murders (to give it its full title).
Directed by Brian Mahoney, written by
David Bowie and Lindsay Kemp (both of whom also star in it), and produced by
Scottish Televison Enterprises who released it on the UK TV channel Scottish
Television in 1970, Pierrot In Turquoise
Or The Looking Glass Murders has a running time of 27 minutes, and is
described in its credits as a pantomime (devised by the afore-mentioned Lindsay
Kemp). Yet even given the characteristically surreal nature of pantomimes, I
can honestly say that this production is fundamentally unlike any pantomime
that I've ever seen or heard about!
As you may have guessed from its title, Pierrot In Turquoise (as I'll refer to
it from now on for brevity) draws its inspiration from Italy's Commedia Dell'Arte theatre traditions, with three of its five characters derived directly
from the latter (namely, Pierrot, Harlequin, and Columbine), but also incorporating
all manner of abstruse and absurd visual and aural novelties along the way. In
addition, it is categorized as a musical (albeit a short one), because it
includes four Bowie songs all specially written for it, and which contain its
only dialogue, in the form of their lyrics as sung by Bowie. Indeed, prior to
being filmed for this 1970 Scottish Television production, Pierrot In Turquoise had existed as a mime improvisation theatre
play of the same title first staged three years earlier by Bowie and Kemp. But
I digress.
Harlequin (played by Jack Birkett), from Pierrot In
Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish Television
Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for
educational/review purposes only)
SPOILER
ALERT! Because of how very obscure and little-known this mini-movie musical is,
I'm presenting a resume of its full plot below, so if you don’t wish to know about
it, please read no further.
This TV version of Pierrot In Turquoise loses no time in confirming the oddness that
is about to descend upon its viewers by opening with a brief scene featuring a pianist
(played by Michael Garrett) who is playing his piano silently. In fact, the
entire scene is completely without sound, an initially unexpected but recurrent
gimmick in this very quirky mini-movie – to such an extent, moreover, that I
wondered at first if the copy that I was watching online on the Japanese
website (more about that site later) was faulty, with breaks in its soundtrack.
Happily, however, my subsequent researches confirmed that these sequences in
silence were indeed intentional.
Anyway, once the pianist has completed
his soundless recital the camera pans to the right, into a relatively sparse
yet ornately-adorned bedroom setting, with an as-yet-unseen Bowie singing the
first of his quartet of songs. Entitled 'When I Live My Dream' (click here to watch on YouTube the scene
that first features it – it also appears but with different lyrics at the
movie's end), this is my favourite Pierrot
In Turquoise song – a plaintive, dreaming ballad augmented perfectly by a
sonorous organ keyboard accompaniment and Bowie's wistful vocals, creating for
it a quasi-medieval tone.
Pierrot
(Lindsay Kemp) in reverie, from Pierrot
In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish
Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use
basis for educational/review purposes only)
While this song plays, we see a seriously
tousle-headed Pierrot (Lindsay Kemp) lying bloomers-attired but bare-chested on
his bed, the camera focusing upon his white-powdered clown's face, and
especially his dark mascara-heavy eyes, as he stares listlessly into it, lost
in thought or dreams. Paradoxically, however, these take the form not of
anything in context to Pierrot's life but instead of photo-stills depicting
this mini-movie's performers in early, pre-dress rehearsals for it, wearing
their normal, 1960s/70s clothes.
When the song ends, Pierrot shakes off
his reverie and walks over to his dressing table at which he sits and begins to
apply even more white powder to his already heavily-powdered face, gazing into
its mirror as he does so. In the meantime, and for no reason that I could
discern, the pianist is now hiding underneath the piano with an alarmed look on
his face, while sitting on the side of Pierrot's bed is Harlequin (Jack
Birkett), absent-mindedly knitting what looks like a long thin blue scarf (no,
me neither!) and wearing yellow spandex tights with more holes in them than spandex. Also seen (and heard, regrettably!) is a small yet decidedly eerie-looking Pierrot marionette with
half-closed eyes and outstretched tongue, playing a violin but only producing
a cacophonous series of scratchy scraping noises. I did warn you that this was
a strange movie!
Eventually, the pianist stops crawling
about under the piano and stands up, and Pierrot stops applying ever more powder
to his thickly-caked face and also stands up, putting on a richly-decorated
jacket of gold (not turquoise!) and looks at himself in a full-length looking
glass – where to his surprise he sees a green/blue-frocked Columbine (Annie
Stainer) peering back at him and pirouetting seductively. Cue Song #2,
'Columbine', sung by a still-unseen Bowie (click here to view on YouTube the scene
from Pierrot In Turquoise featuring
it).
Pierrot
gazing at Columbine (Annie Stainer) dancing in the looking glass, from
Pierrot In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass
Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises – reproduced here
on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes
only)
After flouncing around for a while,
transfixing poor Pierrot with her wiles and guiles, Columbine gives him a last
lingering look and then vanishes like a vixen in the night within the sable
depths on her side of the looking glass, leaving behind a bereft Pierrot only to
stand and stare – until he reaches out and discovers to his amazement that he
can actually step through the looking glass. So he does.
The other side of the looking glass is a
bizarre spangle-floored, black-walled world, seemingly consisting almost
entirely of an admittedly plentiful supply of silver step-ladders. Perched near
the top of one of these is this movie's hitherto-elusive narrator-in-song, an
enigmatic elfin character named Cloud (Bowie at last!), still singing
'Columbine' and showering its title character with a handful of spangles as she
dances around wearing her usual dazed, crazed expression (but nonetheless engaging
in some serious twerking long before the likes of 21st-Century
twerking exponents Ying Yang Twins and Beyoncé were even born!).
The pace, and temperature, soon rises in
Looking Glass Land, however, once Pierrot turns up and finds Columbine there,
as they swiftly engage in some wild, passionate, but demurely fully-dressed
love-making – this is early 1970s mainstream UK TV, after all!
Harlequin
knitting his long blue scarf, from Pierrot
In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish
Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use
basis for educational/review purposes only)
Meanwhile, back in the real world (if the
world in which this movie takes place can ever be called real!), Harlequin is
still knitting his blue scarf (which by now has all but acquired the dimensions
of Doctor Who's in his Tom Baker incarnation!). Unsurprisingly unable to deal
with any more excitement of this kind, he finally takes a walk around the
bedroom, cursorily examining some of its outré accoutrements, before standing
in front of the looking glass and gazing into it. We don't see what he sees,
but whatever it is sends him recoiling in shock, before he gingerly tests the
looking glass's surface with the palms of his hands and, just like Pierrot, is
able to step through it, finding himself in the very same ladder-laden Looking
Glass Land. Cue Song #3, entitled 'Harlequin' (aka 'The Mirror') (click here to view on YouTube the scene
from Pierrot In Turquoise featuring
it), and performed by Bowie as usual.
(Incidentally, is it just me or does this
particular Harlequin bear more than a passing resemblance to Rex Ingram's genie
in the classic 1940 movie The Thief of
Bagdad, with Sabu in title role?)
Anyway, after walking between a number of
full-sized shop-window-style female mannequins, some wearing stockings but all
lacking arms yet all sporting creepy Grey Alienesque eyes, who should Harlequin
find there but – surprise, surprise! – Pierrot and Columbine. There they are,
for all to see, lying together in exhaustion after their steamy session of
rolling about and writhing around – have they no shame? To say that Harlequin
is shocked and upset would be putting it mildly, because, let's not forget, in
the original Commedia Dell'Arte plays, Columbine is Harlequin's true love, not
Pierrot's.
One
of the alien-eyed full-sized female mannequins encountered by Harlequin in Looking
Glass Land, from Pierrot In Turquoise Or
The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises
– reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for
educational/review purposes only)
Just to make matters even worse, the
peculiar pianist is back – this time he's lying on his back on the floor, his
billowing red-lined cape giving him a very Dracula-like look, heightened by his
fraught attempts to prevent a sword grasped in his hands from staking him
through the heart. What – if any – relevance does this have to the rest of the
picture? I have no idea – indeed, I began to suspect while watching it that perhaps
this seemingly unhinged character had wandered here by mistake from some other
production, because he certainly does not seem to belong to this picture's plot
at all.
Back to the main storyline, and by now
Columbine has recovered sufficiently to begin seducing Harlequin – she may
possess a floral name, but she ain't no wallflower, as they say, that's for
sure! At this point, I'm assuming that the producers must have forgotten to put
some coins in their antiquarian sound system's slot meter (or wind it up!) because
we are now treated to Harlequin's pursuit of Columbine in complete silence.
Then, without warning, the music comes back on again – this time in the form of
a fast staccato piano piece resembling the kind of background music
accompanying a car chase in vintage silent comedies – as they run into a Punch
and Judy-like stage set (remember, Punch and Judy also derive from the Commedia Dell'Arte). Here they perform a sprightly cod-ballet dance in front of an
audience represented by old engravings of people. And guess who was playing
that piano piece – yes indeed, none other than the apparently-unstaked vampire
pianist, finally contributing in some coherent, relevant fashion to the
proceedings!
After the audience cheer boisterously at
the end of their ballet, Harlequin and Columbine reconvene to the floor where
Columbine carries on with Harlequin where she left off earlier with Pierrot –
what a gal! Speaking of Pierrot: unaware of what is happening with H & C,
he blissfully steps back through the looking glass into his bedroom, all lit up
and loved up, his heart almost bursting with happiness. His joyful mood is
accompanied by the suitably jaunty strains of this movie's fourth and final
song, 'Threepenny Pierrot' (click here to view on YouTube the scene
from Pierrot In Turquoise featuring
it), sung by Bowie but not seen doing so, because as Cloud he is lying on
Pierrot's bed and conversing with him via mime.
Cloud
and Pierrot miming about Pierrot's love for Columbine, from Pierrot In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass
Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises – reproduced here
on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes
only)
Suddenly, Cloud gestures to Pierrot, who
looks round to see Harlequin and Columbine gaily dancing into his bedroom
(though not via the looking glass). At first, Pierrot is happy to see them, but
then, while looking into the mirror on his dressing table as he applies still
more powder to his face (what's with this make-up mania, Pierrot??), he sees H
& C getting it on, and on his bed too, whose springs are squeaking in an
increasingly loud, rhythmic manner – uh-oh! His face crumbles, and if a few
tears – or even a flood – could somehow manage to course a way through the layers
of polyfilla-like powder on his face, they would (but they can't!).
Enraged, Pierrot turns round and races
over to his bed, but the lovers are gone – and so too, seemingly, are the coins
in the sound system's meter again, as we are treated to yet another silent
scene, in which Pierrot sinks to the floor in despair, shaking his head in
grief. Yes, Pierrot, I agree – you would indeed think that the sound people
would have enough coins on hand to keep their sound system operating. What? Oh…
Anyway, the scene changes and the music
returns, now a stark dissonant offering, but this time the visuals are wonky,
with Columbine's dancing around the step ladders in Looking Glass Land
apparently filmed through a gold filter, because apart from her green dress,
everything is either black or gold. Very psychedelic, but then again, it had
been filmed in 1969, so what can you expect? It reminded me of some of the
pseudo avant-gardish pop music videos that would start appearing a decade later
on MTV in post-'Video Killed The Radio Star' times. So, as with Columbine's twerking,
this oddball mini-movie musical was actually years ahead of its time, anticipating
major music trends that were still far in the future.
The
closest to turquoise that Pierrot ever gets! From Pierrot In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian
Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly
non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)
Returning to the bedroom, and Pierrot has
recovered sufficiently by now to get dressed, wearing a loose lappet-collared
confection in powder blue (not turquoise! – and Pierrot evidently has a major
powder fetish!). Sitting at his dressing table, he picks up the single large
yellow bloom that has been on it all through the movie, and as Columbine dances
by him he offers it to her, with the pianist both seen and heard to be tinkling
the ivories in the background. She stares at the flower and at Pierrot in
amazement until in best Chaplinesque manner he shyly offers it to her. She
tenderly accepts it from him in spite of her face exhibiting a disturbingly
deranged expression. Even so, all seems to be going swimmingly well between
them – and then Harlequin muscles in, literally, his brawny arms bearing a
veritable flower garden of blooms, which he offers to Columbine.
To quote the title of a canzone composed
by Verdi for his famous opera Rigoletto,
la donna è mobile ('woman is fickle'), and none more so than the callous
Columbine. Without a thought for poor Pierrot, she tosses his precious bloom
away and sweeps up the splendiferous display from the arms of Harlequin. Not a
wise move, Columbine!
For enough is enough as far as the by-now psychotically jealous Pierrot is concerned, who, after staggering back in horror at
Columbine's ungracious, ungrateful actions, smashes Harlequin's showy blooms
out of her hands, pulls a long slender epée-like sword from beyond the upper
edge of the set (clever, that!), and vengefully stabs Harlequin to death with
it!
Pierrot
tempestuously seizing the large bouquet of blooms given by Harlequin to Columbine,
from Pierrot In Turquoise Or The Looking
Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises – reproduced
here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review
purposes only)
And when Columbine falls to the ground in
shock, trying to embrace her late lover, Pierrot points the sword at her too,
inciting her to flee in terror, back into Looking Glass Land. Here, Cloud sits
on his step-ladder, calmly watching the grim proceedings taking place below as Pierrot pursues his
petrified betrayer, chasing her hither and thither around the ladders, before finally
seizing her, kissing her – and then chopping off her head! Actually, what you
see is not Columbine herself being decapitated, but a dramatic substitute scene
featuring one of the alien-eyed female mannequins – but it is clear that
Columbine's beheading is what the mannequin's is meant to represent.
Bowie sings a version with different
lyrics of his first song, 'When I Live My Dream', its words now despondent and
despairing, in keeping with the final scene, in which an insane Pierrot, lying
on the floor in Looking Glass Land, dies of a broken heart, clutching to his
mouth the head of the mannequin, representing that of Columbine. But it's not
quite over yet. The pianist walks into shot, looks down at the dead Pierrot,
shakes his head, then walks back through the looking glass into Pierrot's
now-deserted bedroom and sits down at the piano, where, just as it began, Pierrot In Turquoise ends with the
pianist playing in total silence as the end credits roll.
What to say about this mad mini-movie? A
major masterpiece or pretentious piffle, a phantasmagorical fantasy or a
tour-de-force in tosh and twaddle, a spellbinding spectacle or a cryptic
curiosity, an exercise in existentialism, an incomprehensible illusion – or,
most likely, a complex combination of all of these interpretations, and many
others too. Moreover, even though it only has two main sets – Pierrot's bedroom
and Looking Glass Land – the exquisite beauty of the former's design and the
spangled strangeness of the latter's instantly and lastingly imprint themselves
upon the viewer's memory – a telling testimony to the flair and flamboyance
gifted to this production by its very talented designer, Ken Wheatley. Oddly, however,
Pierrot never wears his most famous outfit, with which he is intimately associated
– his white jacket, white ruff, white trousers, and bobble-topped white hat, against which his hat's black
bobble and his jacket's large black buttons yield a very distinctive contrast (NB - sometimes, his black-bobbled white hat is replaced by an all-black brimless cap). The same applies to Harlequin, not wearing the multicoloured spangled costume in which this fellow Commedia Dell'Arte character is traditionally garbed. Strange.
Columbine
dancing in Looking Glass Land, from Pierrot
In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian Mahoney/Scottish
Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use
basis for educational/review purposes only)
My verdict? I absolutely loved Pierrot In Turquoise (even though he was
never actually in turquoise!), its unequivocally weird but also very wonderful
visuals, its inspiration drawn from the Commedia Dell'Arte (of which I've
always been a major fan), and even the spasmodically macabre, even sometimes
sinister quality of its mime, its grotesque mannequins, and ghostly
powder-faced Pierrot all appealed to my sense of the uncanny and unaccountable.
If I'm honest, I could have done without the inane interruptions by the
pianist, not to mention the senseless scenes of silence, but the latter was
more than compensated for by Bowie's songs, most especially 'When I Live My
Dream' which has instantly taken its place alongside my longstanding favourites
from his vast catalogue of compositions, such as 'Ashes To Ashes' and 'Loving
The Alien'.
How I wish that this all-but-forgotten,
rarely-seen curiosity could be made readily available on DVD and/or Blu-Ray –
Bowie fans would undoubtedly pounce upon it with glee, but so too, I feel,
would a much wider audience, which it has long deserved but never
received. Then again: as I mentioned at
the beginning of this review, I did happen to locate a copy of it purely by
chance on a Japanese website, the website in question being Bilibili.com (click here to view Pierrot In Turquoise on it). So if one site has it, perhaps others
do too (YouTube doesn't, I've checked!). And sure enough, as is so often the
way of things, not long after discovering it on Bilibili.com I found that it
was also on Vimeo (click here to view it there).
So even if Pierrot In Turquoise is never released in physical disc format, for
the time being at least you have the choice of two different sites where it is
available to watch legally and free of charge. So if you'd like to view this
early formative Bowie appearance while you can, I recommend that you take this
opportunity to do so now, without delay, and experience yet another fascinating
facet of his unique, multi-talented, chameleonic character. Also well worth
viewing (click here to do so) is a video uploaded
onto YouTube to accompany Bowie singing his song 'After All', which doesn't
actually appear in Pierrot In Turquoise,
but this video consists of visual clips from it.
David
Bowie as Cloud, singing one of his songs, from Pierrot In Turquoise Or The Looking Glass Murders (© Brian
Mahoney/Scottish Television Enterprises – reproduced here on a strictly
non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)
Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of
my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one
instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a
complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.
My
very own Pierrot, in his traditional black and white costume, and amid some interesting company! (© Dr Karl Shuker)
My very own Harlequin, in a more traditional spangled costume, strumming his lute (© Dr Karl Shuker)
