The Grand Guignol: Not for the Faint of Heart

Le Théâtre de Grand-Guignol, literally translated from French as "The Theatre of The Big Puppet Show", was a theatre that formed in a chapel inside Paris' red light district in the late 19th century. Renowned for it's displays of graphic horror and gore, the theatre gained a large cult following. It's actors (no, they weren't puppets) simulated astonishingly realistic acts of violence and sex such as hangings, stabbings, rape and all kinds of beatings.

The shows were so terrifying for it's audiences that it was common that at least two people fainted during the performances, many times up to fifteen people per night. Even the actors were injured and sometimes killed because of the shows. A doctor was kept on call every night in case of these events.

The Grand Guignol eventually closed in the sixties, unable to compete with the effects of cinema. But, the subgenre of horror movies known as splatter film was heavily influenced and based on the naturalistic effects invented at The Grand Guignol. Things such as inflatable animal bladders and pumps hidden under actor's clothes to spew out blood when cut were used at the theatre and adapted for the screen.

        

Many of today's splatter films such as the Saw franchise and movies like The Evil Dead were impacted by the shock factor that The Grand Guignol brought. The gore we know today started on the stage, and grew into a cinematic genre all of its own. The theatre pushed their actors and their audiences to the limits, exploring the horrific and bizarre, paving the way for horror cinema. Now, The Grand Guignol has reopened for special performances, allowing audiences to see what inspired the great gore films throughout history.

It's About Character (pun intended)

I fell in love with puppet theatre when I was a kid, and the fascination about it has never stopped entrancing me. There is something magical about the transference that occurs from puppeteer to puppet and vice versa, as the puppet character takes not only a life of it's own but starts controlling the life of the puppeteer!

As Ricky Syers, creator of Stix says in this video "I'm not really sure where Stix is going...but I am willing to go along for the ride".  This experience holds true for all of us who work in this or other forms of storytelling. We see our characters take a life of their own and have to be very careful not to intervene but simply clear the way to let them express themselves.

Like Gustave Baumann, a maker of marionettes and creator of The Puppet Wranglers said in his comment about the work of master Bill Dwiggins; "These animated pieces of wood, properly jointed, take on a life of their own, move about in ways you never dreamed of, and rewrite your script without bothering to ask permission."

William Addison Dwiggins (1880-1956) by the way, was a type designer (characters, get it?), calligrapher, typographer, illustrator and writer, one of the foremost contributors to the printing arts, but my admiration for him comes from the world he created through his Experimental Theatre, where some truly extraordinary characters came to life, in a meticulous carved environment where every element of design, wether visible to the audience or not, was made with the exacting precision of his great font designs, widely used in the book publishing industry, and carried today in digital form by Linotype.

Dwiggins is also credited with coining the term 'graphic designer' in 1922*


*Livingston, Alan and Isabella., 'Dictionary of graphic design and designers'. London: Thames and Hudson, 1992

Netflix recommends: H.R. Pufnstuf

It's always nice to end a day with a group of friends and an amusing television show; everyone gets a laugh at something, even if the program itself is atrocious, and you come away feeling a bit better about life in general.  A few of us ended up doing just this, skimming through one guy's Netflix recommendations and arguing halfheartedly over what to watch.  You have to admit, there's quite the variety of intriguing television out there to choose from, so it's understandable that each new genre brought more conflict.  Finally, we gave up, flicked the joystick on the Xbox controller a few times, and clicked on what was highlighted to watch: H.R. Pufnstuf.

Not a single one of us had seen nor heard of this before, and I'm not surprised; the show aired from 1969 until 1971, and was apparently targeted at a young audience.  Of the five of us in the room, all in Park, nobody could get past some of the absurdities of Sid and Marty Krofft's world in its early stages, though apparently the siblings used this storyline as a basis for many future adventures (fairy tale, good versus bad approach to each episode's problem).  What really got me were the life sized puppets, the whimsical transitions, and attempts at almost Hanna-Barbera-esqe action.  In comparison to the costuming and effects of today's productions, these look absolutely childish; yet, in their time, this was the sort of thing that led a generation's entertainment.  It's interesting to look at what children's television started with, and how it's evolved into what's seen today.  The basic story remains the same despite the years and technical advances, though, so at it's core, there's always one of the same few starting points for a kids' production.  I'm definitely planning on seeing what else the Kroffts produced, just to find out where they went from this.

Edit: So, I looked into more of the Krofft's work, and you can see the list of productions here.  I'm curious to know, is anyone familiar with any of these titles?