The Black Doll, A Silent Film by Edward Gorey (1973)
With The Black Doll Gorey goes all-out in honoring early twentieth-century silent movie master D. W. Griffith (1875-1948) and French filmmaker, Luis Feuillade (1873 - 1925). Underscoring his homage he dedicated his book to George O’Brien (1899-1985), who must have made a strong impression on him, if for no other reason than the actor transitioning from the silent movies to the talkies.
George O’Brien, son of a San Francisco Police Chief, cut a dashing figure that blazed across screen appearances from Iron Horse (for John Ford), 1924 and Titanic, 1927 to Mystery Ranch, 1934. Standing five-foot-eleven, he was nick-named “The Chest” for his muscular build. He was The Black Doll, front cover well-known enough to have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
One can see that most of Gorey’s books were influenced by early silent movies, as they consist mainly of pictures. His very few words per page mirror the card-like intertitles used for dialog and description in the pre-talkies. The first edition of The Black Doll, published by the Gotham Book Mart, is the real thing; that is, it is a completely unillustrated shooting script for a silent film. The only illustration is a drawing of the Black Doll on the front cover. In 2009, Pomegranate issued a reprint of The Black Doll that is illustrated with Gorey’s drawings: more about this a bit later.
With Griffith’s silent movies in mind, Gorey packed The Black Doll with mystery, action, and humor. His script is in three sections: “What Went Before,” “Credits,’” and the body of the film, presented in eight sequences. “What Went Before” sets up the story and introduces the major characters. It’s fairly long and involved, but the two first paragraphs preview enough of Gorey’s dry humor and keen plotting to lure the reader into the rest of this fast-paced adventure. They are reproduced here verbatim.
What Went Before
A thousand years ago there flourished in Central Asia a city called Gulb (or Blug). It was rich and powerful, and its habitants worshipped the Bear That Dances. In the course of time they became depraved, and their religion split in two, a corrupt version driving out the original other; in the end the city was destroyed. But the Bear Who Dances lived on, his nature an ambivalent combination of the qualities worshipped by the two persuasions, which continued to survive in tiny groups in obscures corners of Asia.
In the year 1910, more or less, the ruins of Gulb were found and excavated by an expedition led by prof. Horace Bedsock, an eminent American archaeologist, and financed by his friend, Maximilian Gloat, a millionaire industrialist and patron of the arts. Foremost among the finds is a priceless ritual object (the PRO); not only is it of great intrinsic and aesthetic value, but of even greater religious, for its discovery would permit the revival of the single most important rite in the worship of the Dancing Bear, a rite that has not been performed since the destruction of Gulb, when the PRO was lost track of.
Credits
Over a wide shot of a miniature set of a vast and dreary plain and an ancient city ruin in the far distance, a title, THE BLACK DOLL, appears. Although there are no actual credits named (producer, director, grip, gaffer, best boy, etc.) as the movie has not yet been made, this is a good place to list major characters other than those mentioned above.
Daisy – daughter of Prof. Bedsock
Seth Irongate – Young man of independent means and Daisy’s fiancé
Octavia Prong – Widow of Jasper Prong, thief, and mistress of Maximillian Gloat
Comtesse de Macacher Bézep – High Priestess of the Dancing Bear cult
The Fiend – Insane international master criminal
Jasper/Joshua – Prof. Bedsock’s factotum and Daisy’ protector. Among other roles he also plays butler, chauffer of the Fiend, bartender at the Smashed Clavicle, thugs
# 1, 2 and 3, and the Asiatic, representative of the original bear worship who has come to America to prevent the other cult from starting up again.
The Sequences
The film pulses with automobile chases, skulking thieves, a wild masked ball with extravagantly-costumed guests, a delirium scene, and a startling end. Throughout it all there are appearances, disappearances, and substitutions of the Black Doll and fake black dolls (note capitals only for the real Black Doll).Many of the time-honored motion picture devices: close ups, medium and long shots, camera panning, and successions of quick cuts enhance the already swift pace.
Once the PRO is sequestered in the belly of the Black Doll, and several fake black dolls are introduced, a series of madcap stealing, hiding, exchanging, and dismembering black dolls gets the film into high gear. Suspicious looks, personal alliances, threats of violence, and unexplained random close-up shots of a pall-bearer’s gloved hand lowering the needle on a phonograph record played over a telephone stir the actors to supreme heights of dramatic tension and emotion. No sound is needed.
Gorey uses silent film-making elements to introduce whimsey and humor into the film. For instance, title cards not only bring in spoken words to break up the voluminous scene settings and action directions, but also to set up gags. For example, in the First Sequence, Seth has just revealed the existence of the PRO to Daisy and the vile attempts made on it. He doesn’t know where it is at present, but cautions her to be on guard against everyone.
… Seth has put his arm Daisy’s shoulder when one last thought occurs to him.
Title. (Seth) Does the name Ursula Schnittlauch mean anything to you?
Daisy giggles and says no, why? Seth admits he doesn’t know, but had heard it
several times in Odessa under odd circumstances. They head for the living room.
Later, in the Fourth Sequence, Gorey reprises his gag, then turns back to the
mystery. Seth, hanging out in the Smashed Clavicle, inquires of the bartender:
Title. (Seth) Have any messages been left here for an Ursula Schnittlauch?
The bartender continues pouring. At last, he imperceptibly shakes his head no.
Seth departs. The camera pans down to the floor as he does so, the word GULB has
been traced in the sawdust on the floor.
This shard of verbal fun carries more freight than meets the eye (to curdle a metaphor). It not only reflects Gorey’s love for both funny-sounding names (especially
certain multisyllabic German locutions), and bits of nonsense, but also hints at the core
of The Black Doll drama. The name Ursula derives from the Latin ursa, meaning “bear”
and brings to mind the cult of the Dancing Bear, central to the story’s plot.
Another amusing oddity pops up when Daisy is handed a package from Danudaber,
Upsala.
Daisy frowns at the package, and then her face clears.
Title. (Daisy). It’s Father’s handwriting disguised.
Now, either Prof. Bedsock’s hand writing is poorly disguised, or Daisy is an ace code-breaker, which heretofore has not been established. It’s curious. It’s silly. It’s Gorey.
Spoiler Alert
Only Gorey’s first book, The Unstrung Harp (1943) has more text than The Black Doll. Unlike his usual thirty-two-page books with one drawing and one or two lines of text per page, his silent screenplay is a solid, illustration-free, fifty-two pages long. But those pages are mesmerizing enough with memorable characters, ripping action, and mysterious adventure peppered with Gorey’s droll language and deft parody to grip you all the way to the breathtaking cliff-hanger ending. The ending is reproduced here because it’s only a small part of one of the most fascinating silent movies you’ll ever read; so intriguing, that with every re-reading, more and more Gorey genius emerges.
Conclusion (verbatim)
Seth and Daisy fling open the door of the limousine.
Close-up. There is nothing inside but a wax dummy of the Fiend, in its hand the Black Doll
The door on the other side flies open and Octavia snatches the Black Doll; she
attempts to escape on foot.
In turn, Seth, the Comtesse, Maximilian, and Daisy get possession of the Black
Doll as they chase one another along the edge of the cliff.
As Seth and Daisy appear to have gained final possession of the Black Doll (the
others have one by one collapsed exhausted and are strewn about the
landscape), the Asiatic springs up into the frame; he seizes the doll.
The Asiatic hold aloft the Black Doll; he grimaces, and flings it over the cliff into
the river.
Slow motion.
The Black Doll falls through the air. The camera follows it down, but it vanishes below the frame.
The words THE END appear against the empty air.
The Black Doll has never been commercially filmed, so rent or buy a copy of the book. If you already have one, find a quiet corner and pour a soothing cup, with which to read the drama through. You will be richly rewarded. In this silent movie script, you will hear the door bells ring, a limousine engine purr, cocktail party chatter, muffled footsteps of tip-toeing suspects, and the desperate breaths in the final cliff-hanger as you join Gorey in his thrilling Theatre of the Mind.
The Black Doll, A Silent Film by Edward Gorey (2009)
This handsomely produced book from Pomegranate Communications is much more than a reprint of the first edition. Going beyond faithfully reproducing Gorey’s enthralling script, it offers a foreword by Andreas Brown, publisher of the original book; an interview with Gorey by Annie Inocenti on his writing of the film, followed by annotations by noted critic, Karen Wilkins; and it marshals a troupe of illustrations by Gorey, many of which have seldom been seen before this publication.
There are also noteworthy glimpses into Gorey’s story-telling in this edition. Brown’s foreword, for example, introduces the subject of the “McGuffin” and its influence on the book. Popularized by Alfred Hitchcock, a McGuffin is a device in a story that drives the plot and motivates characters, yet is usually irrelevant in its self.
The ubiquity of a such a writer’s device could not have escaped a veteran film buff like Gorey, especially in classics like The Maltese Falcon (1941), Night of the Hunter (1955), and Wait Until Dark (1967). Brown suggests that these tense thrillers strongly compare with The Black Doll in their chase of an article whose contents are more valuable than its container: In Night of the Hunter and Wait Until Dark thieves are after a doll stuffed with riches (money/Hunter and narcotics/Dark). The highly pursued Black Doll holds the Priceless Ritual Object.
When Annie Inocenti broached the subject of Gorey’s cinematic perspective and
his tireless fascination with the art, he told her:
Well. I’ve been watching movies for close to seventy years. My family took me to the movies very early. I’ve always been an inveterate moviegoer. There was a period in New York when I would see a thousand movies a year.
I had a friend, Bill Eversen, who ran a film series…He would have these marathon film sessions, twenty-four hours long. In those days I would sit through anything.
There was this film about some Finnish girl who had won a Miss Universe contest, and she married a wealthy Philippine businessman and he decided to make a movie about their lives…
After the first three reels, Bill said, “I’m sorry. I can’t watch any more of this.” And I said, “Oh, don’t you want to know how it comes out?” And about a year later he said.” Let’s watch the rest of that thing.” Nobody else, of course, would have been caught dead in the same room with it. So we watched three more reels. And again he said, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” And I said, “Okay.” And then another year or two passed and we finally saw the last three reels, in which they found lasting happiness, of course.
Reading this book might also take more than one seating, but you’ll be
quietly grinning each time you pick up The Black Doll – A Silent Screenplay by
Edward Gorey.
by Malcolm Whyte
