Jabberwocky (1977) Provides an Imperfect Allegory For the Hollywood Strikes

Today’s issue of Dust On The VCR is a subscriber request! And a well-timed one, if I may shamelessly say so myself. This film was chosen by Gareth Jones, a man of many talents and a lover of cinema. How much does he love cinema? Well, being a Utah native, he works for the Sundance Film Festival every year (heard of it?). And being a Birmingham citizen now, he is a film professor at UAB, which is great because the newsletter I wrote for him today probably resembles the structural logic that you’d find in a C-worthy academic paper. Last but not least, he’s the co-host of the Sleep In Cinema show on Substrate Radio! (His co-host, Craig, is not a paid subscriber because he doesn’t love cinema as much.) And wouldn’t you know it, I’m gonna be on the show with my filmmaker friends tomorrow morning (tune in at 9:00 a.m.!) talking about the film we made (Don’t Die!) and the films that inspired ours. Anyway. Want to request a film for a future issue? Subscribe to the paid version!

Reader, I love it when life imitates art.

Of course, in this chicken and egg scenario, there’s nothing new under the sun, and all art—particularly the comparatively new medium of film—is imitating something about the human experience. But I really enjoy those moments when something happens and we all turn to each other and say “This is just like that movie, right?”

Bear with me, because I know this sort of request will motivate some of you to promptly eject from this newsletter, but…think back to the early days of the pandemic. Laughing at our collective state of anxiety was one of our only weapons against COVID-19 at the time, and when there was a wave of cries to reopen everything even though we could all get sick and die, of course we all turned to each other and said “This is just like the mayor from Jaws.” It became such a resonant refrain that many people (myself included) rewatched Jaws during quarantine just to take some sort of weird comfort in knowing that bad ideas have always been around.*

Three years later, I’ve been thinking about a more niche threat to our economic stability: the WGA and SAG strikes. I’ve also been trying to educate myself about what’s going on by listening to people in those guilds and following their guidance.** And wouldn’t you know it, I happened to watch a film that reminded me we’ve been fighting battles like this throughout the ages.

For his first solo directorial effort, Monty Python member Terry Gilliam decided to adapt a poem, which is quite bold.*** If you’re familiar with Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky,” you know that it’s less than 200 words and it’s a pretty straightforward tale. Carroll’s colorful wordplay, including numerous made-up terms, is what makes the poem memorable. Knowing that it would take much more than a vibrant narrator to turn the poem into a feature film, Gilliam and co-writer Charles Alverson had to expand the story and inject some new themes.

I’m no British historian, so some of the themes of Jabberwocky (or at least specific events they’re referencing) probably went over my head. But when the film really resonated, it felt rather timely.

After the (terrific) cold open that introduces the titular monster, we’re introduced to Mr. Cooper, a barrel maker as his name implies, and his son Dennis, who is nothing but a “stock-taker” in his father’s eyes, always obsessing with ways to improve the business without actually doing the work. When a patron tries to lowball them for a few cheap barrels just for one job, Dennis is keen to take the deal, but Mr. Cooper runs him off: “I don’t make barrels to last two or three days, Mr. Fishfinger. I make barrels to last a lifetime. I’m a craftsman.”

An artist being short-changed for his work because the other party doesn’t value his craft? How could I not think of the strikes? Mr. Cooper tells him off one last time by saying “You don’t want barrels, you want bags,” and the word “content” crept into my mind. Cheap, disposable, forgettable content. Zaslav and Iger and all the rest, they don’t want barrels, they want bags.

When he’s on his deathbed moments later (yes, it happens this abruptly in the film as well), Mr. Cooper renounces Dennis because he has “no understanding of craftsmanship, no appreciation of the beauty of the wood.” Dennis tries to comfort his father, pleading that he was just “trying to improve the business” with all his stock-taking, but Mr. Cooper has none of it: “You and your kind will drive good honest craftsmen to the wall.” We’re seeing what happens when good honest craftsmen are driven to the wall, aren’t we?

Later in the film, when Dennis arrives at the heart of the kingdom, we meet dozens of townspeople starving to death and living in fear of the dreaded Jabberwock. Inside the city gates, though, they’re not worried about the monster at all. It’s a blunt reflection of classism, but with the strikes already on my mind, the monster itself made me think of something more specific: artificial intelligence. (Stay with me here.)

Eventually, the king and his advisors meet to discuss the monster, and wouldn’t you know it, these lords kinda like having the Jabberwock around: “In the long term, it will be shown that we owe to the monster a period of prosperity unprecedented in this kingdom.” Even the local bishop makes things worse, noting that church attendance has tripled, tithing has increased, and “piety has never been higher” since the beast arrived. One lord sums it up succinctly: “If he kills the monster, we’ll all be ruined!”

The one-percenters in this story aren’t concerned about the livelihoods of their villagers as long as their profits keep going up and up. (Hey, this is just like the mayor from Jaws, right?)

As the film continues, does the monster truly come to embody the threat of AI to writers and actors? Maybe not.**** Does the inevitable showdown between Dennis and the Jabberwock foretell the likely resolution to the WGA and SAG strikes?***** Who’s to say? It’s an imperfect allegory, much as Jabberwocky is an imperfect film. But Gilliam is a craftsman through and through, and he knows that good themes can last a lifetime.

*I am one of the real sickos who also watched films like Outbreak and Contagion during quarantine.

**If you’re looking for an ongoing commentary on the strikes, I would highly recommend writer/director Billy Ray’s weekly podcast Strike Talk. Filmmaker Bobby Miller has been covering the strike a lot in his newsletter, including his latest post, Finding Hope During the Strike(s).

***Maybe not as bold as adapting a card game, though.

****My editor John said “LOL oh good” at this part.

*****John also added this: “Does the Jabberwock commission him to make barrels for a living wage? And the Jabberwock is AI here? And the king and bishop are studios? I’ve lost the thread.” Welcome to my newsletter, where the thread has never been found.

Jabberwocky is now streaming on Amazon Prime, Peacock, Tubi, Kanopy, Pluto TV, and the Criterion Channel, and it is available to rent elsewhere.