Tassels, Furs and Murders: The Roaring 20s!

Last weekend I attended a 21st party with the theme of “The Roaring 1920s”. We had a great time making our costumes – all tasselled dresses, feathers and fur (it is not practical though, my dress got caught on everything I passed!) For costume ‘inspiration’, my friends and I watched Chicago (2002), and as I was watching it, I was forcibly reminded of moments in Piccadilly. What fascinates me about the two films in particular is the way in which they depict the ‘Roaring 20s’, Chicago as a modern film, and Piccadilly, made in 1929. I felt that comparing the openings of these films is interesting, as it is in the first few moments of the film that the viewer has to ‘enter the world’ of the 20s. We are transported into the world of the jazz nightclub – the performances, the fashion, the people, and the liquor! It is similar to Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge, where we are literally taken through the doors of the nightclub, and delighted with the colourful aesthetic and crazy world found within. Of course, I am in no way suggesting that Rob Marshall (director of Chicago) was conscious of these similarities, or if he was even purposefully referencing period films. It is more that despite their different contexts, in depicting the same era, they employ some similar techniques.

Chicago:
URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjQiTuLtxyo

Piccadilly was composed at a time when film was on the threshold between sight and sound. Paradoxically, as a silent film, it is obsessed with the noise and music of the nightclub setting. It is through a combination of the jazz score by the Brussels Jazz Orchestra, and some film techniques to convey a festive, busy and exciting atmosphere that Piccadilly achieves its sense of a vibrant nightclub. The use of mirrors in the opening of Piccadilly furthers this concept of busy, festive, raucous action. There is a sense of kaleidoscope, as each mirror reflects hundreds of other images, and it is therefore difficult to quantify the amount of people that actually present. Chicago presents a similar shot. The angle of the camera, as well as the angled mirror and painted wall increase the sense of lively movement.

Throughout this course, we have seen films that emphasise the importance of writing (calligraphy, Chinese characters, graffiti etc.) and Piccadilly is no exception to this. The opening of the film presents the credits as a part of the film’s diegesis – they are plastered across the side of a double-decker bus (the place where typically, advertisements would be seen.) By having the text on the side of the bus, the credits have been imposed in a very literal way into the landscape, and the borders between the cinematic landscape and what it documents becomes problematically blurred. By mixing the name of the film in amongst other forms of advertising, the film draws attention to itself as a product. In Chicago, the advertising in the opening is not of the film, but of the double act that Velma Kelly performs at the nightclub with her sister. In the world of jazz of the 1920s, everyone and everything is a product. Billy Flynn (the lawyer in Chicago) even goes as far as to say: “I don't mean to toot my own horn, but if Jesus Christ lived in Chicago today, and he had come to me and he had five thousand dollars, let's just say things would have turned out differently.” As Velma walks into the nightclub, she tears off the advertising poster. As rips the poster, she represents not only the murder of her sister, but the loss of the product that they sold – their double act.


The fact that the credits in Piccadilly are presented on the side of a bus is important too. The camera movement itself is passive, the bus traverses across the screen, rather than the camera moving across the bus. This draws attention to the bus journey, and what it represents. The use of the bus is very different to the other forms of transport that we have seen in the films throughout this course. For example, in Berlin, the train tracks that are shown in close-up indicate the permanency of movement. The bus journey is transient, and as we discussed in class, perhaps it mimics the film product itself – a moment in time, a ‘journey’ of sorts. Comparatively, the opening of Chicago sees Velma Kelly step out of a taxi, as she mutters “Keep the change” before entering the nightclub. The use of the taxi represents her status as a performer, and her wealth. While Shosho rides the bus, we understand Velma’s success through her chosen mode of transport. It is also significant to note, in light of this interpretation, that the taxi itself is presented just outside of the frame – foreshadowing Velma’s immediate future in which her wealth, status and reputation are threatened.

Perhaps the most obvious similarities in depicting the era occur in the costuming choices. The furs, gloves, and hats of the era coalesce in almost identical shots from the films:


This shot, from Chicago, unites the image of the modern actress in costume, with an image of a 1920s woman painted on the nightclub’s walls, in order to accentuate the attributes of the time period.


While the role of costuming is extremely important in identifying the time period, it also plays a role in developing metaphors for the character’s own journeys. In Piccadilly, Shosho pulls her dress over her stockings, embarrassed by their torn and frayed quality. An almost identical shot takes place in Chicago, as Velma is trying to convince Roxie to perform with her on the stage. Roxie glances down as Velma, too late, pulls her skirt over a large ladder in her stockings. The torn stockings, as Melissa mentioned in class, becomes “metonymic for the fallen woman.”

In the end of both these films, a similar moral is conveyed – in Piccadilly, the show goes on, despite the death of the star attraction. In Chicago, Roxie Hart was in the limelight for her moment, and now another woman wins the hearts of Chicago. The world has another product to watch, another performer to idolise, and the crazy world of jazz nightclubs carries on unabated by the murders.

The murders in both films (of Shosho, and the double murder of Veronica – Velma’s sister – and Charlie – Velma’s husband) live out the tagline of Chicago:

“If you can’t be famous, be infamous.”