Around the nation summer is a season for concert series and music festivals. Holdings at the American Heritage Center include the papers of many musicians and composers, particularly those who composed for movies and television—even for cartoons! This photograph from the Nathaniel “Nat” Finston papers shows four composers whose papers are at the American Heritage Center, plus two more composers who have correspondence in the papers of other individuals whose collections are also at the American Heritage Center.
In the photo, left to right, are, standing: David Snell, Minnaletha White, Arthur Rosenstein, Earl Brent, Bronislaw Kaper, Roger Edens, Eric Zeisl, Daniele Amfitheatrof, Sol Kaplan, Franz Waxman. Seated: Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Nat Finston. Nathaniel Finston papers, #6107, Box 1, Folder 3-2Q. American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.
In addition to the papers of Nat Finston, other individuals whose papers are here include Snell, Kaper, and Kaplan. The Hal Schaefer and Eugene Poddany papers (both composers) at the American Heritage Center contain correspondence and scores by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (composer). The William Dozier (the creator and producer of the Batman and Green Hornet television shows, among others) papers at the American Heritage Center contain correspondence with Daniele Amfitheatrof (composer).
Greetings, readers! My name is Patrick Conraads, and I just finished my first year as a graduate student in History at the University of Wyoming. This past semester, I was enrolled in Rick Ewig’s Archival Methods class. For my term paper this semester, I wrote a paper about McCarthyism during the Cold War and Adrian Scott, who was a member of the Hollywood Ten. The Hollywood Ten were indicted on charges of communism, and Scott was jailed in Kentucky for a year because of charges of communism.
Adrian Scott, Bartley Crum, and Edward Dmytryk outside of a building in Washington, D.C. Adrian and Joan Scott Papers, Collection #3238, Box 2, Folder 21. UW American Heritage Center.
One interesting aspect of Adrian Scott’s political views is how he wanted to continue Franklin Roosevelt’s politics of the 1930s. In a speech Scott gave on March 5, 1948 he told the audience that
We must see to it that the Four Freedoms and the Atlantic Charter are realities – and not catchwords of a dying liberal thought. We must see a forthright renewal of the attempt to establish equality for minorities. We must, in short, see to it that the progressive tradition – whether at home or abroad, in the office or in the home – must follow the architectural framework we inherited from Franklin Roosevelt.[1]
Scott intentions were not to be un-American, but to carry on with political thoughts that had been rendered obsolete by World War II.
Despite Scott trying to merely carry on with the political framework of someone who was considered an American hero years earlier, he was villainized as a communist. According to the Mundt-Nixon Bill, the key piece of legislation for McCarthyism, communism was responsible for the racial strife in America as well as the disruption of trade and commerce.[2] Many people, who could be considered as merely exercising their right to free speech, could not speak out in favor of Communism during this time period. When Karl Mundt gave a speech to Congress on May 17, 1946, he spoke directly to Americans rights. Mundt quoted a New York attorney, John W. Davis as saying
The fact that men have the right to speak or write as they please does not exempt their speech or writing from your field of inquiry. It is not criminal, for instance, for any man tor group of men to advocate the granting of patents of nobility, or the creation of a state established church, or the disenfranchisement of citizens because of creed, or the abolition of the right to private property, but it would be deeply un-American for them to do so.[3]
Mundt used Davis’ comments as guidelines for what the House Committee on Un-American Activities needed to do. Mundt told Congress “our task, top which the house assigned us, is to seek out and to expose those activities, which although legal, are none the less un-American, subversive and contrary to the American concept.”[4] Mundt’s speech made it clear that the Committee could pursue un-American activity even if it was legal.
The Adrian and Joan Scott papers contains over one hundred boxes, consisting of scripts, correspondence, speeches, and the Mundt-Nixon Bill. The collection provides insight into what Scott believed, and how his beliefs were evident in some of his films. A researcher can get a great understanding of how America feared communism when they combine this collection with the nuclear anxieties of the Cold War. This research has been fascinating, because it shows how America increased censorship in the name of security during the Cold War.
–Patrick Conraads, Archival Methods student
[1] Taken from the last page of a speech given by Adrian Scott in Folder 2, Box 1 Adrian Scott Collection, #3238, American Heritage Center, Universtiy of Wyoming. The speech is to various members of the Hollywood ten and Blacklist 19, speaking to their courage, their political beliefs, and how they are being singled out by the House Committee on Un-American Activities. This quote comes from the last page of the speech.
[2] Taken from section two of the Mundt Nixon Bill in Folder 1, Box 1, Adrian Scott Collection, #3238, American Heritage Center, Universtiy of Wyoming. The bill outlines the necessity for legislation, villainizing communism along the way. There are a total of 11 reasons given for action against communism. The overall theme is that Communism will destroy the capitalist order.
[3] Taken from page 24 of a report on Karl E. Mundt and his congressional history. Folder 1, Box 1, Adrian Scott Collection, #3238, American Heritage Center, Universtiy of Wyoming.
The American Heritage Center recently finished processing the papers of Harry C. Butcher. Butcher was a member of Dwight D. Eisenhower’s staff during World War II and wrote of his experiences in his book “My Three Years with Eisenhower.”
In addition to materials related to Butcher’s experiences during World War II, there is also correspondence with Eisenhower during his presidency, personal correspondence to Butcher’s family and a great deal of material chronicling Butcher’s career in the broadcast industry, both radio and television, before and after World War II. Some of these materials illustrate a time when the US government was determining the best way to regulate radio and television broadcasting and these are issues Butcher worked with in his role as a radio and television station owner.
A great deal of the materials in this collection are from the 1950s, a time that the United States was engaged in the Cold War with the Soviet Union. The Cold War manifests itself in the Butcher papers in interesting ways, but perhaps the most interesting way is in correspondence between Butcher and one of his acquaintances decrying the fluoridation of the water in Santa Barbara, California, where Butcher lived.
Take a look at these letters for yourself:
Letter from the Harry C. Butcher papers, Box 2, Folder 7.
Letter from the Harry C. Butcher papers, Box 2, Folder 7.
Letter from the Harry C. Butcher papers, Box 2, Folder 7.
Letter from the Harry C. Butcher papers, Box 2, Folder 7.
A conspiracy theory at the time had it that the fluoridation of American water was a communist plot that would turn Americans into mindless communists. This is a reflection of the Cold War paranoia that gripped American society at the time. Other examples of manifestations of this paranoia include the Hollywood blacklisting and other activities of the House Un-American Activities Committee during the mid-1950s.
An example of this paranoia in popular culture can be found in Stanley Kubrick’s satirical film “Dr. Stangelove,” which is centered around a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union put into motion by an American general fearful of communist infiltration by means of the fluoridation of American water.
Butcher, much to his credit, replies that God must want the water in Santa Barbara to be fluoridated because it is naturally present and states, somewhat sardonically, “I sincerely hope you succeed in saving the world.”
[Editor’s note: The AHC invited UW students enrolled in Professor Rick Ewig’s Archival Methods course to contribute a post for the AHC blog. Here is one such entry! Enjoy!]
One of the most underused collections at the American Heritage Center has a gold mine of information (some on an actual gold mine) spread across dozens of boxes and hundreds of folders. Titans of industry in the waning Gilded Age are highlighted in correspondence and business contracts, deeds, and minutes. Such men could be staying at a swanky hotel in our nation’s capital while sending and receiving letters from venture capitalists in London, cattle foremen in New Mexico, estate lawyers in Iowa, and desperate hucksters, inventors, and panhandlers from areas in between. Such was the lot of James and Helen Bosler of Carlisle Pennsylvania, and their heir apparent, Frank Bosler.
Frank Bosler, along with a few other notables such as Edward Ivinson, would become the closest thing Wyoming had to a Rockefeller or a J.P. Morgan. A level-headed businessman who made decisions by the numbers rather than by personal feelings, ran what amounted to a minor business empire that comprised large tracts of Southeast Wyoming, land and cattle in Iowa and New Mexico, and mine deeds in Colorado. His holdings included a dizzying array of companies that included the Iron Mountain Ranch, the Iron Mountain Alloy Company, and the Ashland Mining Company. Frank Bosler could be found sending letters and contracts that exchanged tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands of dollars, and later, he could send a letter to his bank enquiring about a discrepancy of one dollar and seventy-two cents, making him meticulous, miserly, or both.
Photograph of John Coble. Photofile: Coble, John. UW American Heritage Center.
Juxtaposed with this gentleman from back East, a tenderfoot some might have called him in his younger years, was the rough and tumble John C. Coble. Coble was the owner of the world famous bucking bronco Steamboat, the horse immortalized as Wyoming’s unofficial symbol. Coble, an undisputed leader of cowpokes and survivor of a grisly knife attack by the father of the boy allegedly murdered by Tom Horn, was Bosler’s business partner and primary operator of the Iron Mountain Company. Bosler, cultured and unemotional, and Coble, hardened cowboy and hothead, made for quite the odd couple. It is no wonder that their business partnership dissolved with Coble allegedly misallocating company funds in order to pay for Horn’s defense, Horn being a close, personal friend. Coble eventually won a civil case Bosler that went all the way to the Wyoming Supreme Court, which held that Bosler owed Coble over twenty thousand dollars in damages!
All these events represent a fraction of the interactions found in the Bosler Family Papers that bring to life the changing Wyoming landscape at the turn of the last century. Dig in, and enjoy this precious stone at the AHC in the Gem City of the Plains.
–Oscar Lilley, HIST 4055 Student
[Author’s note regarding sources consulted: Bosler Family Papers, 1864-1930. Collection Number 5850. American Heritage Center. University of Wyoming. Boxes 61-63, and 115 were highlighted in this blog post.]
Have you ever wanted to relive a special moment in Cowboy or Cowgirl sports history? Such as the 1988 football game of UW vs. Air Force, when UW came back and won? Or perhaps the 2007 NIT championship game of the Cowgirls vs. Wisconsin? If your answer is yes, then you’ll be pleased to know that an online inventory of all game films and documents in the Intercollegiate Athletics collection is now available.
Not a sports fan? You still may find some items of interest, such as this 1977 football season highlight video showing the campus and students:
Getting the Ball Rolling to Improve Access
Previously, accessing the UW Intercollegiate Athletics material was like catching a Hail Mary in a Wyoming blizzard–very difficult! All that existed was a 35-page paper inventory created by a student in 2002 for 228 boxes of film. Neither the collection nor inventory was organized in any way. Although the inventory was originally created electronically in Microsoft Word, the electronic version was not readily available and paper copies were used for search and retrieval. It’s not the 1980s. We live in a world where keyword searches and 24/7 access of information is the norm. It was time to bring the Intercollegiate Athletics collection to the 21st century.
Old inventory for the UW Athletics Collection.
The bulky inventory was not available to patrons but rather used by AHC archivists when a patron requested a film. Because there are approximately 25 requests a year for films and other materials, our A/V archivist used it often and had it practically memorized. While this is one way to find what you’re looking for in an unorganized collection, those unfamiliar with the collections’ contents would have to scan dozens of pages to find what they needed, and there was no guarantee that we even had what they were looking for (more on this later).
The Intercollegiate Athletics collection totals over 200 cubic feet. If you laid each box from end to end it would span the entire War Memorial football field, plus another thirty yards. Not only was it a large, unorganized collection, but there were inaccuracies in the titles and dates, and many of the films were unidentified. Needless to say, organizing and identifying the thousands of films and other materials was a lot of work.
New and Improved: The Collection
The new, accurate online inventory (a.k.a. finding aid) can be found here. The collection is divided into three series: films, sports records, and athletic director’s email. Most films are organized by sport, and then chronologically. There are various types of films and videos including 16 millimeter reel-to-reel tape, Beta, VHS and even DVDs. The new finding aid identifies each film and video by type.
The UW Intercollegiate Athletics collection is mostly comprised of game films, and most are of UW football and men’s basketball games. There is a fairly complete run of football games dating from 1938 to 2004 and a fairly complete run of men’s basketball games dating from 1978-2003. The BYU vs. Wyoming game of the October 1981 blizzard, when the Cowboys came back from a 14-point deficit to beat Jim McMahon and the Cougars; the 1987 men’s basketball team’s run in the NCAA tournament, when the cowboys were led by Fennis Dembo and Eric Leckner; and the March 2, 2002 game against Utah to win the regular season Mountain West Conference title and host the biggest crowd to see a game in the UW Arena are just some of the historical highlights included this collection.
Game films of women’s basketball are also included with a fairly complete run from 2003 to 2008. The collection also includes films documenting baseball, cross country, golf, skiing, hockey, rodeo, soccer, swimming/diving, tennis, track, and volleyball from the 1980s-2000s. Wrestling is also represented and there is footage dating back to 1949. Additionally, it includes films of coaches’ shows, senior banquets, and season highlight tapes.
The collection also contains physical and electronic records about UW sports, such as several scrapbooks of newspaper clippings dating 1920-1948 about UW football and basketball. A small portion of football and men’s basketball schedules, game brochures, and narrator information sheets for games are in this collection. There are also audio cassette tapes of interviews with coaches and players.
2006-2007 University of Wyoming Cowgirl basketball team. University of Wyoming Intercollegiate Athletics Records, Collection No. 515001.
Why Does the AHC Have This Stuff?
The American Heritage Center houses the university’s archives- permanent records documenting university history. Sports are a fundamental part of most universities, and the University of Wyoming is no exception. In fact, it could be argued that, because Wyoming has no professional NFL or NBA teams, the Wyoming Cowboys are even more essential to document.
Unfortunately, acquisition of game tapes and records has been inconsistent and unstructured. We are very fortunate to have what we have, and hope to acquire both films and records documenting games and the administration for years to come. Like most sporting events, it just takes teamwork and a game plan!
Score Sports Memories and Memorabilia for Yourself
Whether you want to reminisce with friends over a favorite Cowboys memory or see what the fashions of the 1970s were, the Intercollegiate Athletics Collection is a slam dunk for interesting (and sometimes amusing) content. Contact our friendly reference archivists for more information on how to access and even get copies of specific films and other materials. In the meantime, here’s a major moment in Cowboys’ basketball history that, although young Cowboys fans may not have known of it, will forever be remembered within the UW Archives:
~ John Waggener, University of Wyoming Archivist and Historian, and Aaron Kruger and friends, UW Cowboy fans
Frederick A. Gutheim, circa 1930. Frederick Albert Gutheim papers, #7470, Box G142, Folder 25. UW American Heritage Center.
Frederick Gutheim was born on March 3, 1908, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He was raised in Washington, D.C., where he attended Sidwell Friends School and later Dr. Devitt’s Preparatory School. He earned a degree from the Experimental College of the University of Wisconsin in 1931 and pursued graduate study at the University of Chicago. His early association with mentors like John Gaus and Lewis Mumford lead him to the study of urban and regional planning. Gutheim pursued this interest as a bureaucrat, a writer and academic, a practitioner, and as an activist. The American Heritage Center is pleased to announce that the Frederick Albert Gutheim papers have been recently processed and a new online inventory is available.
Gutheim became professionally acquainted with housing and planning policy while a staff member at the Brookings Institution. Between 1933 and 1947, he worked for federal agencies involved with housing and planning, serving the U.S. Army in the National Housing Agency during World War II. During this period, he also married Mary “Polly” Purdon, in 1935. He worked closely with Catherine Bauer at the U.S. Housing Authority as the assistant director of the Division of Research and Information. In 1933, he wrote portions of the TVA Act concerning planning.
Sketch on a postcard, Frederick Albert Gutheim papers, #07470, Box G142, Folder 25. UW American Heritage Center.
Gutheim may be best known as a writer and a teacher. He was a staff writer on architecture and planning for the New York Herald Tribune between 1947 and 1949. He published The Potomac in 1949, a classic example of regionally-focused environmental history. Over the course of his career, Gutheim wrote and edited for numerous magazines and journals including the Magazine of Art and the journal of the American Institute of Architects. He founded the Washington Center for Metropolitan Studies as well as the historic preservation program at George Washington University. He advised and taught at the university from 1975, when he established the program, up to the time of his death.
Gutheim, circa 1962, with a ‘portable’ bicycle. Box G142, Folder 27,
Gutheim used his knowledge of bureaucracy and his academic prowess in a series of private consulting businesses, among them Galaxy, Inc., and Gutheim, Seelig, Erickson. Under the auspices of these firms, he advised organizations like the United Nations, the Canadian government, and the city of Newport, Rhode Island.
As an activist, Gutheim sought to protect the integrity of the landscape surrounding his home in Montgomery County, Maryland. In 1974, he established Sugarloaf Regional Trails, a non-profit organization dedicated to historic preservation and land conservation. He served as a trustee of the Accokeek foundation and was instrumental in the opening of the National Colonial Farm, which was active in preserving native agricultural practices. He served on an array of historic preservation and planning boards from 1950 until his death in 1993. Gutheim perceived himself to be a catalyst for change, whose work in the background made the more apparent success of others possible.
“Git ’em up, podner!” Photo included in William Boyd scrapbook, Box 173, William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
One the most popular collections at the American Heritage Center is the papers of William Boyd, who played cowboy Hopalong Cassidy for many years on radio, television, and film. Hopalong Cassidy was originally created by author Clarence E. Mulford in 1904 in a series of short stories and novels. William Boyd first brought Hoppy to life in a 1934 film adaptation of Mulford’s story. He portrayed Hoppy in many more films, on a television series beginning in 1949, and voiced Hoppy in a radio show. The character became enormously popular and Boyd acquired all rights to the Hopalong character in 1948. He consolidated all Hopalong enterprises and began a highly profitable business through promotion of the character. Boyd donated some of his profits to children’s hospitals and homes. Boyd married actress Grace Bradley in 1937. He retired in 1953, and died in 1972.
Hopalong Cassidy with children in Hoppy costumes and his horse, Topper. Photo File: Boyd, William L, UW American Heritage Center.
The William Boyd collection contains a wide variety of materials; everyone is sure to find something in the collection that would pique their interest. The collection has materials concerning Boyd’s portrayal of Hopalong Cassidy and his many related promotional and business ventures. It contains correspondence, legal files, financial files, newspaper clippings, promotional and publicity materials, and other business records. In the collection, you can also find Hopalong Cassidy scripts and comics, sheet music, phonograph records, and photographs of William Boyd. There are also a large number of artifacts, including Hopalong Cassidy costume items, toys, and other merchandise. A small amount of William Boyd’s personal files are also present.
Example of a Hoppy Birthday card, Box 112, Folder – “Birthday cards, undated.” William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
Hopalong Cassidy on parade, Box 199, Negative Number 27916. William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
Due to Hopalong Cassidy’s immense popularity, he had merchandising and tie-in deals with a wide range of brands and products. Interestingly, three products he most heavily seemed to promote were bread, tuna, and dairy products (especially ice cream). This is due, in part, to his popularity with children. Of course little Timmy wants his sandwiches to be made with Hoppy’s favorite bread and tuna! Not only does the collection contain correspondence and other business files pertaining to his merchandising and promotional deals, but you can also find examples of the original packaging used for various products. Hopalong Cassidy games, toys, and children’s cowboy clothes (sanctioned by Hopalong Cassidy, of course!) are also contained in the collection.
Hoppy’s branding efforts even reached Chicken of the Sea! Box 113, Folder – “Packaging with Hopalong Cassidy, undated.” Tuna label has a date of 1952 stamped on the back. William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
There are numerous scripts in the collection for his radio, television, and film productions, as well as contracts and copyright agreements for the stories. In the 1950s, a Hopalong Cassidy comic strip was produced by King Features Syndicate. The collection contains a nearly complete run of these comics, which are a blast to read though. Would you like to see Hopalong Cassidy’s saddle, boots, hats, and other apparel? The collection has these, too! How about his holster and six-shooters? Yep, these can also be found at the AHC! Do you want to learn how to play all the old Hopalong Cassidy songs? Well, we’ve got the sheet music just for you! Did you write a fan letter to Hoppy as a child? Maybe you can find it in the fan mail folder!
One of the strips distributed by King Features Syndicate. Box 156, Folder – “Knockout Comics – entire magazine, 1957-1959.” William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
There are also a large number of scrapbooks filled with newspaper and magazine clippings detailing William Boyd’s activities as Hopalong Cassidy, as well as a large number of photographs. The photographs include movie stills from his various productions, publicity photographs of William Boyd at various events, and a number of photographs with him and his wife, Grace Bradley Boyd. Whether you’re looking to do serious research or just experience a blast from the past by looking at old toys, games, and original Hoppy apparel, this collection has it all.
Learn more in the AHC virtual exhibit, “William Boyd’s Extensive Merchandising of Hopalong Cassidy.”
Letter from Mulford to Boyd discussing film options for a story by Mulford. Box 150, folder – “Correspondence – letter (copy) from Clarence E. Mulford to Boyd re: making Hopalong Cassidy film, 1948.” William Boyd Papers, #8038. UW American Heritage Center.
I’ve been beginning blog posts recently by writing about this or that gem that I found in the Forrest J. Ackerman Collection. After watching enough movies and looking through the artifacts that are in the collection I’m starting to realize that there is very little in the collection that isn’t a “gem.”
Dear Reader, I submit for your approval (I’ve always wanted to use that phrase!) . . . Cat Women of the Moon. Cat Women of the Moon is a bizarre spectacle. Like so many films of its time, it shows a nefarious feminine presence, resolved through good, ole-fashioned, masculine wherewithal in which the day is saved through a sort of proper gender performance.
One of the posters for the release of the film. Forrest J. Ackerman papers, Box 140. UW American Heritage Center.
In the film a group of astronauts travel to the moon. The crew is comprised of men except for the female navigator, Helen, who has been compromised by a mysterious, telepathic force. When the crew arrives on the moon, they are greeted by a barren landscape that is devoid of life (the hostile environment is expressed by one crew member’s cigarette that spontaneously combusts, obviously because fire in space is both scary and possible). The crew is led to a cave by Helen, where they are taken captive by a seductive race of cat women (what? why? really?). One crew member is easily killed by the cat women, who use his sexually aggressive nature against him. Another member of the crew is easily seduced and controlled by his misguided trust of women.
Photograph from production of the film. Forrest J. Ackerman papers, Box 105, Folder 108. UW American Heritage Center.
The wariest and most alert crew member soon learns that the cat women want to take over the earth, in the process destroying all men. Their method: guide a woman to become the navigator of man’s mission to the moon (it is assumed that she would not have been as capable as a man in this endeavor), to steal the ship, and then to take over earth. Simple enough. Yet simply averted by the surviving crew member’s ability to take emotional and mental control over one of the cat women, hence thwarting the end of the earth.
Cat Women of the Moon is a wonderful film because it’s so transparent. The parts are ably cast (although at a certain point actresses started realizing they were only being cast as villains or heroines) and the sets are imaginative. The spaceship reminds me of the spaceships my sister and I would create when growing up (because you really can make a spaceship out of anything when you imagine it, and I’m not being ironic). The interior walls of the ship are made out of corrugated tin and the seats of the spaceship look like they came from a movie studio’s accounting department (imagine frustrated accountants trying to stand while doing their work, telling themselves that they possibly couldn’t be paid enough for this work).
But authenticity wasn’t the point. When the idea of space travel was still so fantastic, people would have willingly paid to watch a movie featuring strong-jawed space cowboys traveling to the stars in a cardboard box.
Perhaps it’s a good idea then, to sit back and enjoy Cat Women of the Moon as a film of its time. Because all of it seems so fantastic and ludicrous that it really just is a fun film to watch. And that’s what is so great about the gems of the Forrest Ackerman collection, because they reflect on an era that was deeply troubled as well as fun, which is a perfect combination for academic investigation.
One of my favorite “B” movies from the 1950s is a film called The Wasp Woman, released in 1959. The film is about a woman named Janice Starlin who is the CEO of a cosmetics company. As she is quickly losing her youthful looks, she decides to inject herself with the queen wasp’s jelly. Coincidentally, a string of murders rocks the city. It becomes obvious that Janice’s vanity is the culprit. If she hadn’t been so intent upon recapturing her youth, the vile creature that emerges when she injects the jelly would not have been unleashed upon the city.
Promotional poster from the film. Forrest J. Ackerman papers, Collection #2358, Box 137.
At the same time, Janice is constantly criticized for her looks. It is presumed that she was only the CEO of the company due to her former beauty. The gang of cronies waiting to take her place is a group of men in gray flannel suits, snickering behind her back and anxiously awaiting her downfall. And of course, they aren’t the ones who bring on that downfall. She does the work for them.
There are some interesting elements to consider in The Wasp Woman. The timing of the plot is similar to many other sci-fi “B” movies of the time as the movie is only about an hour long. Janice’s downfall comes in a matter of minutes, and although most of the film is about how her character develops from a beauty queen to a vile monster, I sort of wished the ending of the film offered a longer reflection on what the story meant. There are so many similar themes to King Kong, a film that would have been familiar to both the creators of the film and its audience due to King Kong’s many re-releases, particularly in the fifties. The idea that beauty killed the beast is predominant in both stories. Particularly in The Wasp Woman, there is a sense that beauty is somehow sinister. The possessors of beauty, young women, can’t be trusted. It is tolerated for its aesthetic power in youth, but when it is no longer there the power that has been afforded to the beautiful is now overwhelming. Therefore, women can’t be trusted with power because the need for aesthetic recognition can turn them, quite literally, into monsters.
This is a common sentiment in film throughout the postwar era, particularly in science fiction. In many films, women are seductresses with malevolent intentions. The interesting thing about The Wasp Woman is that the main character doesn’t start out a monster, like so many other feminine characters in other post-war films. Instead, she merely is a person who is prone to insecurity. The feminine element in The Wasp Woman is a great deal more human (literally) than in other films. If the fear of the aesthetic, or the power of beauty, is so paramount on so many different levels it is clear that appearances were more intimidating than they originally seemed in postwar America. Hence, women could easily be turned into objects of fear and attraction when in all actuality America was still a misogynistic environment.
The Forrest J. Ackerman collection has a great movie poster from The Wasp Woman. It’s a wonderful artifact, although it doesn’t seem to relate to the film as much as it could. The poster portrays Janice as a gigantic wasp with a woman’s face, while in the movie she is the opposite–a woman’s body with a wasp’s face. However, the movie poster does upend the usual monster-holding-woman formula as this time Janice, the wasp woman, is holding a man. It’s interesting to consider what happens when the woman is made out to be the monster rather than the helpless heroine. After the fifties science-fiction films began to feature female protagonists. Barbarella, a film featuring a sexually aggressive Jane Fonda,was released in 1968. Perhaps the best, and my favorite, female protagonist in science-fiction film history is showcased in a film that was released exactly two decades after The Wasp Woman.Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley, the protagonist of the Alienseries, is one of the most compelling characters in science fiction. She is certainly one of the toughest, meanest, and oddly powerful characters in the history of film. Her mastery of the fearsome is something that couldn’t have quite been conceived in the late 1950s. I don’t think that Ripley could have existed without the realization of the dark feminine power that drives films like The Wasp Woman. Perhaps that is why I take such satisfaction in watching science fiction films from the 1950s, as they were not very afraid of experimenting with feminine power, even if those experiments usually resulted in malevolent depictions of women. And if it weren’t for the Forrest Ackerman collection, I would have never known about The Wasp Woman. Thankfully, I have had the honor of working through it.
In the Forrest J. Ackerman collection, one can find a variety of well-known artifacts of the film era, including work from before World War II (the oldest artifact in the collection is from 1890, a literary review that has an interesting article on Idaho if you ever get the chance to read it). I enjoy looking at these materials whenever possible to get away from my work a bit, as the focus of said work has usually been on post-war movies that reflect the gendered anxieties of containment. This week I would like to discuss King Kong, first released in 1933, re-released in 1938 and 1952, and then remade in both 1977 and 2005. My own experience with the various representations of the film has been limited–I watched the original when I was very young (the only thing I remember is that we ate tacos and fell asleep) and the Peter Jackson remake when I was in high school. I have absolutely enjoyed working with the various materials available in the collection as well as watching the various manifestations of the film.
Promotional poster from the French release of the film. Forrest J. Ackerman papers, Collection # 2358, Box 111. UW American Heritage Center.
In the original King Kong the character of Ann Darrow, portrayed by Fay Wray, plays a powerfully innocent feminine character throughout the movie. Ann Darrow is a character whose femininity moves the plot–Darrow embodies the beauty that unleashes the mystery of the island. Without her it would be a bunch of dudes wandering around killing dinosaurs and scaring natives. Ann Darrow’s masculine counterpart is a character named John Driscoll (Bruce Cabot), who provides an alternative to the stereotype of masculinity that is utilized all too often in mid-20th century film; Driscoll is humble and often uncomfortable in his own skin. He loves Darrow deeply, but rather than take confident action, he awkwardly asks for her permission to be loved. Driscoll is a relief in an era of he-men.
In opposition to the other science-fiction films I have worked with, which tend to portray the masculine protagonist having most of the responsibility of moving the plot and acting as a moral arbiter, the conflict in King Kong is “beauty and the beast,” meaning that the film’s climax comes down to Ann and Kong. (Assuming that you have watched either the original or the Peter Jackson remake, you know who wins.) It’s an oddly empowering concept of femininity in film. Yet it can also be interpreted to be misogynist as well. If the empowering element of femininity is merely the aesthetic, what does that say about women, who once again are relegated to the aesthetic and seemingly false existence of eye candy? At the same time the obvious employment of the beauty and the beast trope makes it seem like parody to a certain extent, causing a further sense of disjointedness between the aesthetic and the subconscious employment of femininity as a nefarious force. At least for Ann Darrow, her aesthetic power is what moves the plot and saves the day, which is more than can be said about many science-fiction or fantasy movies of the era. For it wasn’t Ann Darrow who killed Kong directly, but it was society that was so intent upon killing Kong for daring to kidnap Darrow.
The need to capture both beauty and the beast at the same time, or to contain them, seems particularly telling of the power of gendered aesthetics in the American imagination. It is also revealing of how strongly we react to the dual aesthetics of beauty and beastliness in the terms of gender. Darrow and Kong share something in common, the act of being objectified for pleasure. That shared experience provides a special relationship between the two when they are on top of the Empire State Building. So high up in the air, they are on an alienated island of aesthetic objectification, sharing opposite fates of either death or recapture due to the gendered aesthetics they provide for the world. This is portrayed sincerely in both films and illuminates how important our appreciation of beauty and ugliness are in American culture.
Using the Forrest Ackerman collection to elucidate popular culture is a rewarding experience, especially when we get to use it to analyze classics like King Kong.
