The dominant relationship between films and conspiracy
theory has traditionally been one based around narrative. Films with storylines based on conspiratorial
themes and scenarios have long constituted distinct sub-categories of the
American thriller and drama genres. Notable examples of ‘paranoid thrillers’
include The Manchurian Candidate (1962), The Parallax View (1974)
and Arlington Road (1996); while All The President’s Men (1976)
and JFK (1991) are historical dramas predicated around conspiratorial
situations (insert ‘alternative’ or ‘pseudo’ history to describe JFK as
appropriate). In this context conspiracy
theory is considered in relation to the narrative content of films.
This relationship has arguably been usurped over the
last couple of decades by the rise of the New Age Illuminist strand of
conspiracy thinking. One of the central tenets of this mindset is the belief
that most media content – especially of the popular entertainment variety – is
actually operating as vehicles of conspiratorial conditioning/mind control
through the application of techniques such as subliminal messaging. Thus the
recent proliferation of websites, YouTube videos, social network ‘memes’ etc.
dedicated to finding and decoding the Illuminati symbolism hidden in plain
sight in the likes of mainstream Hollywood films, pop music videos, awards
ceremonies et al. While such commentary typically involves the usual convoluted
exegesis as to the deep meanings of the conspiratorial imagery involved (e.g.
mirrors and butterflies = symbols indicating celebrity is MKULTRA mind-control
victim), little is said regarding the intentions of the creators of such works.
As a film or other screen text is the product of the
creative decisions of a core team of creators – notably directors, writers, and
producers – then presumably these creative figures are the ones directly
responsible for encoding such texts with conspiratorial symbolism and subliminal
meaning. However, for example, while I remember coming across an in-depth
discussion of Illuminati ‘future-signalling’ symbolism in the Back to the
Future films, I can’t recall this discussion extending to considerations of
director and co-writer Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale’s backgrounds as 4th
degree masons or family ties to the Rothschilds. Nor does the seemingly
interminable online discussion of Illuminati symbolism in the likes of Britney
Spears and hip-hop music videos talk about the directors of such videos as the
key figures responsible for crafting such pernicious conspiratorial propaganda.
Besides the assumption that most conspiracy theorists are not film buffs or pop
culture geeks (directing their buff and geek tendencies into their conspiracy
researches) and are not really interested in the behind the scenes aspects of
film-making (outside of the careers of big name figures like Steven Spielberg
or James Cameron), this tendency can perhaps be explained by the fact that the authorship
of screen content is less clear to authorship in other media.
For instance, if I argue that Gravity’s Rainbow is full of esoteric references to the Luciferic metaphysics of ancient Babylonia, I presume that author Thomas Pynchon – the sole creator of the work - deliberately put these into his novel. Similarly, my claim that that the White Album is a work of Communist propaganda would be predicated upon an understanding that the songwriters of the band (predominantly John Lennon and Paul McCartney) deliberately wrote their music and lyrics with this end in mind. By comparison, film-making is predominantly a collaborative art, in which the finished film is usually made up of a writer’s screenplay that has been interpreted by a director in relation to practical/artistic decisions and restrictions imposed or shaped by producers (e.g. casting choices related to funding requirements). (The auteur paradigm being seen in this regard as a way of making film analysis easier by talking about directors as the sole or dominant ‘authors’ of a film in a manner comparable with the likes of literature).
For instance, if I argue that Gravity’s Rainbow is full of esoteric references to the Luciferic metaphysics of ancient Babylonia, I presume that author Thomas Pynchon – the sole creator of the work - deliberately put these into his novel. Similarly, my claim that that the White Album is a work of Communist propaganda would be predicated upon an understanding that the songwriters of the band (predominantly John Lennon and Paul McCartney) deliberately wrote their music and lyrics with this end in mind. By comparison, film-making is predominantly a collaborative art, in which the finished film is usually made up of a writer’s screenplay that has been interpreted by a director in relation to practical/artistic decisions and restrictions imposed or shaped by producers (e.g. casting choices related to funding requirements). (The auteur paradigm being seen in this regard as a way of making film analysis easier by talking about directors as the sole or dominant ‘authors’ of a film in a manner comparable with the likes of literature).
This long-winded preamble is intended to provide some
context for a discussion of a notable ‘thread’ in recent Western conspiracy
culture: conspiracy theories centered upon the work of the late, great American
director Stanley Kubrick. As with many specific conspiracy themes or memes,
these theories appear to have largely originated with a particular figure – in
this case, American ‘alternative scholar’ Jay Weidner – and to have then been
taken up and elaborated throughout the ‘conspirasphere’. The core claims of the
‘Kubrick conspiracies’ are:
A
– that Kubrick secretly ‘shot’ the 1969 moon landings under cover of/and or
using special effects techniques developed for his production of 2001: A
Space Odyssey, released in 1968.
Kubrick’s subsequent films make symbolic allusions to this
conspiratorial act: for example, Room 237, a recent documentary made on
the cult appeal of Kubrick’s 1980 horror opus The Shining, features Weidner
as one of the interviewees, expostulating that The Shining is full of
subtextual allusions to the moon landing hoax, such as the Apollo themed jumper
worn by the child protagonist Danny. (I’m
not sure about the other 5 moon landing missions until 1974 – perhaps they were
shot by lesser directors in the standard fashion of Hollywood sequels. Irwin
Allen directed the Apollo 13 mission, indubitably).
B
– that Kubrick was a member of and/or privy to the inner workings of the
Illuminati, and portrayed a typical Illuminati ritual session as the
centrepiece for his last film Eyes Wide Shut (1998). In this reading Kubrick’s
death by natural causes, just before the film’s release, can also be interpreted
as an Illuminati ‘hit’ in revenge for him revealing too much.
Given their esoteric subject matter, I am sure 2001
and Eyes Wide Shut would have become subjects of conspiracist exegesis
regardless of who directed them, but it’s the emphasis placed on Kubrick
himself in these theories that intrigues me. To make a sententious and
pretentious argument in the time-honoured traditions of humanities scholarship,
I propose that Kubrick’s artistic vision and creative methods imbue his films
with a sense of latent, yet profound, meaning that resonates with what might be
labelled a ‘conspiracist aesthetic’.
Kubrick was a renowned and fabled perfectionist/control
freak, with many stories relating to his total attention and devotion to all
aspects of film production (a representative example being the apocryphal tale
that he rang up the owner of a NY theatre before the release of A Clockwork Orange and advised them on
repainting the interior of the cinema in matt black to avoid adverse
reflections being cast on the screen by the white lacquer).
The sense of total control over the film-making
process that emanates from Kubrick’s oeuvre (at least his post-Spartacus work) is resonant with the
implicit assumption of most conspiracy theorists in the omnipotence of the
conspirators involved. Just about all conspiracy theories presume that the
conspirators had virtually unlimited access to every resource required to
undertake the conspiratorial activity in question (e.g. manpower, money,
technology); and that the conspirators have considered and controlled every
possible aspect of the activity involved, down to the tiniest detail. For
example, the various 9/11 as false flag conspiracy theories take as a given
that the conspirators were able to command highly skilled technicians and
advanced technology to surreptitiously plant demolition charges in the
structure of the World Trade Centre buildings – buildings that were not only
heavily used but also situated in one the world’s densest urban environments - in
advance preparation of the plane crashes, presupposing that the hijackings
would take place with absolute precision, so as to leave most people with no
doubt that the planes were the sole cause of the towers’ collapse.
In this respect, as Kubrick’s technical sophistication and creative perfectionism can be seen to constitute a shared modus operandi with that of conspirators, so it is a small step to configure Kubrick as a conspirator himself. Of course Kubrick could have faked the moon landings with the detailed aerospace research he undertook for 2001 and the special effects techniques pioneered for that film. Of course the ritual in Eyes Wide Shut is authentic – this is a director who insistence on authenticity was such that in Barry Lyndon he used special lenses to film scenes lit only by candlelight to convey a more genuine visual sense of 18th century life. Of course Kubrick put hidden symbolism in The Shining – as if he would have idly flicked through the racks down in the costume department and randomly pulled out the Apollo themed jumper as Danny’s outfit. I will also here not miss the opportunity to be as pretentious as possible by reversing the comparison so that we can say that most contemporary conspiracies are envisaged as being ‘Kubrickian’ in their conception and staging (you know you’ve made it culturally when your surname can be used as a metaphorical adjective…)
In this respect, as Kubrick’s technical sophistication and creative perfectionism can be seen to constitute a shared modus operandi with that of conspirators, so it is a small step to configure Kubrick as a conspirator himself. Of course Kubrick could have faked the moon landings with the detailed aerospace research he undertook for 2001 and the special effects techniques pioneered for that film. Of course the ritual in Eyes Wide Shut is authentic – this is a director who insistence on authenticity was such that in Barry Lyndon he used special lenses to film scenes lit only by candlelight to convey a more genuine visual sense of 18th century life. Of course Kubrick put hidden symbolism in The Shining – as if he would have idly flicked through the racks down in the costume department and randomly pulled out the Apollo themed jumper as Danny’s outfit. I will also here not miss the opportunity to be as pretentious as possible by reversing the comparison so that we can say that most contemporary conspiracies are envisaged as being ‘Kubrickian’ in their conception and staging (you know you’ve made it culturally when your surname can be used as a metaphorical adjective…)
Kubrick’s carefully designed mise en scene,
editing, and soundtracks also suggests
that there are layers of meaning embedded within his films well beyond what
might be evident on initial viewings. All of Kubrick’s work, especially from 2001 onwards, reflects his ability to
explore ‘heavy’ metaphysical and philosophical themes through standard generic
frameworks. In terms of the films under discussion here, 2001 takes two key themes of sci-fi – man vs machine and humanity’s
first meeting with alien intelligence – and makes them the basis for a
metaphysical parable about the cosmic evolution of mankind; The Shining takes stock horror tropes – a
haunted house, a deranged man – and uses them as the basis for an allegory on
themes such as the politics of the nuclear family, the psychological dangers of
creativity (Jack’s writing) and free will and predestination (the final image
which implies that Jack Torrance is the reincarnation of an earlier Overlook
guest): while Eyes Wide Shut transforms
what could ostensibly be a straightforward drama about fidelity into an oneiric
odyssey of sexuality and class. As the very existence of the Room 237 documentary illustrates, the
tone of Kubrick’s oeuvre invites viewers to engage in obsessive speculation and
interpretation as to the deeper meanings of his films as ‘cultural
spectacles’, in a manner akin to conspiracy
theories – in which, instead of a film, the obsessive speculation and
interpretation revolves around a series of historical events that are usually
‘spectacular’ both in the means by which they take place and their long-term
effects on politics and society (e.g. JFK assassination, 9/11, Roswell). In
other words, there is something intrinsic to the way in which Kubrick presents the
thematic content of his films that resonates with a key hermeneutic of the
conspiracist mindset – the compulsive drive towards uncovering (or reading)
hidden and secret meanings into seemingly mundane or straightforward events or
texts.
In light of the ‘conspiracist aesthetic’ outlined
here, I find it interesting that conspiracy theorists appear to have not really
picked up on the work of David Lynch. Not only is Lynch’s work comparable to
Kubrick’s in the creative control which is exercised over the construction of
the films, but the metaphysical dimensions of Lynch’s ‘vision’ are expressed
far more powerfully and provocatively than Kubrick’s, and in a way which explicitly
resonates with the deep-seated attraction-repulsion to the occult which
constitutes the metaphysical basis of much contemporary conspiracy theory (rf.
David Icke and epigones, and the interminable stream of American conspiracy
theorists rooted in Fundamentalist Protestantism, such as Alex Jones, Texe
Marrs, and Henry Makow: this attraction-repulsion dynamic merits its own post).
Much of Lynch’s oeuvre, especially his later works like Twin Peaks (TV series and film), Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, and Inland
Empire, revolve around tales of ontological terror – the breakdown of the
personality in the face of social and emotional forces (e.g. Hollywood in Mulholland Drive and Inland Empire, the dysfunctional family
in Twin Peaks, marital jealousy in Lost Highway).
However, while Lynch is usually classified by scholars
as a surrealist filmmaker working within established traditions of
psychoanalytically-based art concerned with Freudian/Jungian themes such as ego
and id, repression, and archetypes, I would argue that a case could be made for
him as a metaphysical/occult one, who is explicitly presenting ideas derived
from traditions and belief systems such as Gnosticism, Buddhism and magic in
the guise of popular art cinema and ‘quality’ TV drama. The Gnostic premise of
humanity as spirits trapped on a lowly material plane, and the Buddhist premise
of humans stuck in loops of desire*, is evident in the base scenarios of Eraserhead, Lost Highway, Mulholland
Drive and Inland Empire, which
centre on individuals embroiled in psycho-social ‘hells’ from which there is
seemingly no escape (it is worth singling out the grotesque ‘controller’ who is
seen pulling the levers at the start of Eraserhead
as a prime symbol of Gnostic cosmology).
While these premises can be readily interpreted as
psychoanalytical metaphors and thus rendered legitimate topics of discussion
within the accepted parameters of academic film criticism, Lynch is genuinely
subverting accepted notions of rational materialism in his presentation of a
universe rooted in magical/hard occult notions that our human world co-exists
with other realms of being, populated by entities who have good and bad designs
on humanity (or, to put it in popular parlance, angels and demons). This is
especially evident in the Twin Peaks
TV series and film. The ‘who killed Laura Palmer’ premise is explained – pretty
unambiguously, from memory – as a clear-cut case of demonic possession, with
the entity ‘Bob’ impelling Leland Palmer to commit crimes such as incest and
murder: this reading is reinforced by the notorious ‘non-ending’ to the TV
series, in which Bob takes over Agent Cooper. There is also the literal
presentation of the ‘Black Lodge’ as an occult dimension populated by sinister
figures, that Agent Cooper interacts with on an astral level through his
Buddhist meditation practices*, and which can also be reached through a portal
in the local woods. Examples of other characters which can be seen in this
demonological framework include the camera-wielding man in Lost Highway and the parking lot monster/elderly couple from Mulholland Drive: while the unpleasant
fates of the characters in Inland Empire
are explained as the results of making a cursed film (Lynch’s occult vision
appears resolutely dark, but there are angelic ‘helper’ entities too, such as
the bellhop in the Twin Peaks TV show
who appears and gives advice to the badly wounded Cooper in his hotel room,
and, more ambiguously, the ‘cowboy’ who materialises in a corral and gives
advice to the film director in Mulholland
Drive).
I presume the main reason why conspiracy theorists
haven’t picked up on Lynch in these ways is because his work is mostly situated
firmly in the arthouse camp, which means that whatever sinister messages it
will be subliminally conveying will be to the relatively small proportion of
the population into ‘high’ culture. The Illuminati/Communist/NWO etc. agenda is
much better realised by brainwashing as large a chunk of the populace as
possible through mass appeal pop culture spectacles such as Miley Cyrus music
videos, the Transformers franchise,
and the dance/music ceremonies used to mark sports events such as the Olympics
and the US Superbowl. Kubrick’s films, while undoubtedly art, are also
accessible to ‘popular’ audiences in ways Lynch’s films aren’t due to elements
such as the use of star actors (Jack Nicholson Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman);
adherence to established genre frameworks (sci-fi, horror, thriller); and
conventionally linear storytelling (e.g. his narratives don’t play with
audience expectations in the way that Lynch’s work does, such as the
‘metamorphosis’ of Fred Madison into a different character halfway through Lost Highway) – thereby allowing them to
enter the pop culture vernacular and become the focus of conspiracist exegesis.
Or, to be less charitable and resolutely snobby, perhaps the truth of the matter is that, outside of exceptions such as Kubrick, the focus on cultural products such as inane teen pop, vapid blockbusters and kitsch public ceremonies reflects the fact that most conspiracy theorists have shit tastes. Who knows what heinous Illuminati symbolism is being peddled through all those highbrow flicks that win the Palme D’Or at Cannes…?
Or, to be less charitable and resolutely snobby, perhaps the truth of the matter is that, outside of exceptions such as Kubrick, the focus on cultural products such as inane teen pop, vapid blockbusters and kitsch public ceremonies reflects the fact that most conspiracy theorists have shit tastes. Who knows what heinous Illuminati symbolism is being peddled through all those highbrow flicks that win the Palme D’Or at Cannes…?
*Lynch
is a well-known practitioner of and advocate for transcendental meditation, so
presumably has interest and knowledge of Buddhist thought within which the
practice has been traditionally situated.
