³Steel Train Angels² – An Analysis
A
short play on the theme: "Persistence of Vision"
by
K. Brian Neel
İ 2007, K. Brian Neel all rights reserved
CHARACTERS:
George
Narrow – Private Eye
Boris
Black – Normal Joe
Laura
Harper – Sweet Gal
Pearl
Zee – Femme Fatal
Professor
Stellner
Open
on the climactic scene from the old film-noir classic Steel Train Angel. Mr. Narrow, private
dick, has Boris and Pearl cornered. Innocent Laura is caught in the
middle—helpless. Theyıre dressed in overcoats and talk a mile a minute.
NARROW:
Donıt you sometimes hate yourself, Mr. Black?
BORIS:
Constantly. And call me Boris.
NARROW:
I like Mr. Black. Cause over thereıs the pot and the kettle.
PEARL:
Donıt listen to him Boris, he ainıt got nothing on us.
NARROW:
Now itıs usı huh?
PEARL:
I mean
LAURA:
Detective Narrow
NARROW:
Mr. Narrow. I ainıt a
detective no more, sweetie.
PEARL:
And she ainıt sweetie, Narrow.
NARROW:
Looks like names are all mixed up these days.
LAURA:
Let him go. He didnıt do nothinı.
NARROW:
Cut the perfumed jabber. Youıre coming with me, Boris. You got a fitting for a
striped shirt.
BORIS:
I didnıt mean to do it, Mr. Narrow.
PEARL:
Shut up, Boris.
BORIS:
We were on the train, and Pearlıs husband found out about me and her, and he
went nuts. Said that if he couldnıt have her, no one would. He was gonna kill
her. I acted in self defense.
NARROW:
Itıs not self-defense if he
was gonna kill her,
you poor sap.
LAURA:
(pulling a pistol)
Thatıs enough!
PEARL:
Laura!
NARROW:
Well, well.
LAURA:
You were looking at the wrong girl, Narrow. Guess your not as smart as you
thought.
NARROW:
Just a little taller, I guess.
LAURA:
Boris killed my father, choked him in the train car. Then threw him out.
NARROW:
Yea, thatıs about as far as I got. But now thereıs a sweet angel pointing cold
steel at my gut.
LAURA:
Pearl here would never fall in love a washed-up door-to-door shoe hawker like
Boris. Sheıs too savvy for that.
NARROW:
(realizing) So Boris
here was gonna take the fall. And you gals were gonna take an all-insurance
paid trip to a sandy beach.
PEARL:
Laura, why're ya spillin' the chickpeas? Narrow was fallin' for it.
LAURA:
He knew, Pearl. No, not the private dick. Heıs been on our fish hook ever since
we planted the spatz on the Great Northern. Boris. Boris knew. He knew you
didnıt love him. He knew we were gonna kill him tonight. He needed out, and his
only choice was to get taken in. Sell one last gum shoe. Ainıt that right,
Boris?
BORIS:
You gotta save me, Narrow. Theyıre a couple of fruits.
NARROW:
Yea, and theyıre rotten.
In
the audience, Professor Stellner rises from her seat and talks over the film.
PROF.
STELLNER: (together) Alright.
Alright. Thatıs enough.
PEARL:
(together) You dug
deep, Narrow. You should have dug deeper. As deep as weıre gonna be digging.
Letıs go. Outside, boys.
PROF.
STELLNER: (together) Okay, let's
stop it now.
The
film stops = flicker to still frame.
PROF.
STELLNER: Thank you (Name of Light Board Operator). You can rewind it now.
The
film rewinds in fast motion. Professor Stellner takes the stage. She addresses
the audience, reading from note cards at times.
PROF.
STELLNER: So. That was the climactic scene from the 1942 film ³Steel Train
Angels.² Perhaps not one of the classic examples of the noir genre, like Double
Indemnity, or The
Third Man, or Sunset
Blvd. Great films. But I
wanted to select something a little less prominent for my analysis here today.
My book, which is on sale in the lobby by the way, and Iıd be glad to sign any
newly purchased copies, cites examples from many great films of the forties and
even into the fifties. (Grandly changing the subject, beginning her
diatribe.) Film. What is
film? Film is the source of movies. And by that I mean motion pictures, or more
specifically, the motion of pictures which is called frame rate. Frame rate is
the measurement of the frequency at which an imaging device produces unique
consecutive images called frames. The frame rate is related to but not
identical to a physiological concept called the flicker fusion threshold. Light
that is pulsating below this rate is perceived by humans as flickering; light
that is pulsating above this rate is perceived by humans as being continuous.
So, the shutter in projection devices, such as what we have up there in the
booth, and let's give thanks to our projectionist (Name of Light Board
Operator)... The shutter interrupts the light two or three times for every
frame. In this fashion, the common frame rate of 24 frames per second produces 48
pulses of light per second. (Name of Light Board Operator), let's go to the top
of the scene and hold it there.
Lights
rise on the first frame of the scene.
Old
technology, it's marvelous, so rich and vibrant. So, here we see one still
frame. And here's what you've all come here for: (very important) I've discovered within the frames,
subliminal images, or sub-flickers, hidden between or, more accurately, behind
the apparent images in American films of the forties and fifties. Play it.
The
scene comes to life.
NARROW:
Donıt you sometimes hate yourself, Mr. Black?
BORIS:
Constantly. And call me Boris.
NARROW:
I like Mr. Black. Cause over thereıs the pot and the kettle.
PEARL:
Donıt listen to him Boris, he ainıt got nothing on us.
NARROW:
Now itıs usı huh?
PEARL:
I mean
LAURA:
Detective Narrow
NARROW:
Mr. Narrow. I ainıt a
detective no more, sweetie.
PEARL:
And she ainıt sweetie, Narrow.
NARROW:
Looks like names are all mixed up these days.
PROF.
STELLNER: Freeze there. Okay, now we're going to play the next frames at
exactly 8.1278 frames per second, and filtered through a special device I've
designed. Go.
The
"image" transforms in slow-motion. Overcoats are parted to reveal
provocative bodies in a sexual writhing bacchanal of pleasure. Naughty words
can be discerned through moaning.
PROF.
STELLNER: And stop. The first time I viewed this footage, I catalogued my
feelings and thoughts: (She reads.)
Stomach curled and aching as if about to vomit. Tingling sensations throughout
the extremities. Fogged vision, as if Vaseline were smudged on the periphery.
Hot and wet vaginal area. (Stops reading.) I've had those feelings at other times, but this was
recorded for science. Resume the film normally, please.
It
does so.
LAURA:
Let him go. He didnıt do nothinı.
NARROW:
Cut the perfumed jabber. Youıre coming with me, Norris. You got a fitting for a
striped shirt.
BORIS:
I didnıt mean to do it, Mr. Narrow.
PEARL:
Shut up, Boris.
BORIS:
We were on the train, and Pearlıs husband found out about me and her, and he
went nuts. Said that if he couldnıt have her, no one would. He was gonna kill
her. I acted in self defense.
NARROW:
Itıs not self-defense if he
was gonna kill her,
you poor sap.
LAURA:
(pulling a pistol)
Thatıs enough!
PROF.
STELLNER: Slow it down.
The
"image" transforms again, this time with violent, torturing content
-- clamps on nipples, forced open eyes and mouths, hateful growling sounds,
etc. Stellner speaks over.
PROF.
STELLNER: So, here we can discern terror, violence, hate, suffering. It's...
hard to even look at. (to projectionist) Take it back to normal.
The
scene resumes. Stellner talks over the scene.
NARROW:
Well, well.
LAURA:
You were looking at the wrong girl, Narrow. Guess your not as smart as you
thought.
NARROW:
Just a little taller, I guess.
PROF.
STELLNER: (talking over scene) Yes,
sir, I see your hand. I already know your question. I'm not here to discuss the
highly debated issues surrounding subliminal imagery. I'm simply uncovering a
truth. I'm a Detective of sorts, just like in the film. I've uncovered an
insidious plot which has undermined our world of entertainment. (ramping up
to a tirade) And if you
look at the movies coming out of our system right now, we can agree the schlock
is rampant with violence and sex and,
LAURA:
Boris killed my father, choked him in the train car. Then threw him out.
NARROW:
Yea, thatıs about as far as I got. But now thereıs a sweet angel pointing cold
steel at my gut.
LAURA:
Pearl here would never fall in love a washed-up door-to-door shoe hawker like
Boris. Sheıs too savvy for that.
NARROW:
(realizing) So Boris
here was gonna take the fall. And you gals were gonna take an all-insurance
paid trip to a sandy beach.
PEARL:
Laura, why're ya spillin' the chickpeas? Narrow was fallin' for it.
LAURA:
He knew, Pearl. No, not the private dick. Heıs been on our fish hook ever since
we planted the spatz on the Great Northern. Boris. Boris knew. He knew you
didnıt love him. He knew we were gonna kill him tonight. He needed out, and his
only choice was to get taken in. Sell one last gum shoe. Ainıt that right,
Boris?
BORIS:
You gotta save me, Narrow. Theyıre a couple of fruits.
NARROW:
Yea, and theyıre rotten.
PROF.
STELLNER: (The important moment is here.) Okay... Let's slow it down and run the machine here and just
see what's next
The
"image" transforms into a writhing sex and torture scene with
religious symbology such as crucifixes, pentagrams, the star of David, and
likenesses of Tom Cruise and John Travolta.
PROF.
STELLNER: Religion. This is the crux. Combine all the debauchery and hatred and
pain with religion and what do you have? Corrupt cinema influencing not only
our movie going experience, but also our minds. I mean if I want sex and
profanity and debauchery I can go to (Insert infamous local theater company)
and see a play and feel good about it. But add religion that I canıt perceive
and evaluate and control—thatıs a spiritual violation at the base of my
existence, pounding at my brain, causing guilt and fear, and with all that I
just want to rent some blockbuster shit. But unknown to me, something else is
going on here...
The
film resumes normally. Stellner turns and watches with the audience.
PEARL:
You dug deep, Narrow. You should have dug deeper. As deep as weıre gonna be
digging. Letıs go. Outside, boys.
LAURA:
Do you hear something?
PEARL:
It's the cops!
LAURA:
He set us up!
NARROW:
They donıt allow shovels where youıre going, girls.
LAURA:
Why you
Laura
erects the gun at Narrow. Narrow pulls Pearl in front of him as a shield.
Boris, still in love with Pearl, jumps in front to shield her. The gun goes
off. All three--Boris, Pearl, and Narrow—fall dead. Laura gasps.
Blackout.