A Volatile Ventriloquy With a Vicious Dummy: Sid and Nancy and the War Between Image and Soundtrack

MONICA FOSTER

Monica Foster is passionate about Classical and exploitation cinema, psychoanalysis, the 20th century, and David Lynch’s voice. During her time with the Cinema Studies program, she has written about Daisies, Gothic paperbacks and Mario Bava, as well as the history of the Rialto Theatre in Times Square. 51 5

When Judy Vermorel interviewed notorious Sex Pistols bassist Sid Vicious in 1977, she asked him what types of films he enjoyed. His response was one of snobbery and complete negation, a stab at the cultural status and esteem that film holds as a medium. Vicious called film a fantasy, a pretense, a pack of lies, and criticized its tendency to glamorize circumstance (Slycheetah). What remains uncertain, however, is if these are Vicious’ own opinions or one of the collective punk milieu that he was a part of. The incorporation of fantasy and the glamorization of life is integral to the spectacular and dazzling musicals of Hollywood’s Golden Age. Those musicals were devoured by audiences because the story worlds provided an escapist fantasy from the economically depressed one they inhabited. The Golden Age musicals of the 1930s revelled in excess and spectacle, as did catalogue musicals including Mark Sandrich’s Shall We Dance (1937) and ’ A Damsel in Distress (1937), which celebrated songwriters, in this case, George and Ira Gershwin (Cohan 12). These films were colourful, pleasant, and happy-go-lucky, striving to make their audiences leave the theatre with optimism and hope for the future (12). There is no doubt that Vicious, along with a vast majority of punks, would abhor these types of films. David Laderman approaches the musical genre with a revisionist lens. He introduces a new type of musical: the punk musical. In his view, the punk musical is an “extreme makeover” of the classic musical genre and could be called an anti-musical (Laderman 2). He argues that the punk musical slashes the classic musical’s predilection toward cheeriness and optimism and inverts it with a sense of nihilism, ofering a dystopian view of the world. Laderman’s punk musical rejects the traditional set of conventions from which the genre originated. For Laderman, this new type of musical is sufused with independent and cult film sensibilities (2-3). The combination of independent and cult film conventions rejects the formula of the Golden Age musical, creating something radically diferent. Laderman proposes his concept of the “slip-sync,” inspired 52 A VOLATILE VENTRILOQUY WITH A VICIOUS DUMMY by the scene in Alex Cox’s Sid and Nancy (1986) where Vicious ruptures his performance of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way,” causing him to go out of sync with the lyrics. Slip-sync appears prominently in a cycle of both British and American punk musicals from the late 1970s to early 1980s, including Derek Jarman’s Jubilee (1978) and Lou Adler’s Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains (1982). Slip-sync is a device that punk musicals typically mobilize to create tension. In Laderman’s words, the slip-sync depends on the better-known technique of the lip-sync:

[...] in slip-sync, the singer-performer slips out of sync, alienated from yet caught up by the performance spectacle. Rupturing lip-sync from within, slip-sync articulates both resistance (the singer refusing, or unable, to be synchronized) and conformity (the soundtrack, or the performance spectacle, subsuming the performer). (3)

Indeed, Gary Oldman as Vicious singing “My Way” ofers the definitive scene of the film. In this fantasy scene, Vicious takes out a gun and aims it at the audience. Slip-sync in Vicious’ performance creates tension by breaking down the conventional audio-visual relation: the synchronous union of sound and image (Chion 9). In Rick Altman’s theory of the soundtrack acting as ventriloquist and the image as its dummy, the ventriloquist’s power, in the instance of Sid and Nancy, is eroded. Before entering into a discussion about Altman’s theory and how it is used in Sid and Nancy, a short history of punk is needed. Throughout the United Kingdom in the 1970s and early 1980s, many disafected youths dawned dog collars, chains, bondage straps, and styled their hair into protruding spikes every shade and tone of Technicolor. These were the punks, misfits who presented themselves in a way that shocked the conservative status quo. Punks took pride in an anti-aesthetic: a preference for ugliness over beauty. There was a deliberate, conscious attack on canonical beauty by the punks, as well as an attack on traditional middle-class values and decorum. Plagued by inflation and high unemployment rates, the United Kingdom in the late 1970s reached economic stagnation, creating a landscape of cultural and social dissolution. Emerging from a nation in decline, the British punk movement captured a mood where disillusioned working-class youths were able to vent their socio-economic, existential, and political frustrations (Worley 13-15). The punk movement ofered not only a diferent way to dress and behave, but also an alternative approach to music. Punk music was not like the music that came before: gone were the sweet and nullifying tunes of doo-wop and the careless jangles of 53 MONICA FOSTER

boy groups. Punk was abrasive and confrontational, with quick guitar rifs, pounding percussion, and bleak lyrics. It is no wonder then that a majority of punk bands venomously opposed the music industry and commercialism, and, much like Vicious, the motion picture too. Anything that reeked of middle-class taste or was connected to the state was abhorred. Punk’s desire to break free from conventions is mirrored in Sid and Nancy’s relationship between sound and image. Film theorist Rick Altman proposes a new way to conceptualize sound-image relationships with his idea of the soundtrack as ventriloquist and the image as its dummy (67). The ventriloquist moves the dummy in time with the words they speak. Altman notes that one of the main problems for the ventriloquist is figuring out how to retain control over the sound while attributing it to a carefully manipulated lifelike dummy with no independent life of its own (76). To overcome this problem, the ventriloquist strives to make it seem as though their voice emerges from the lifeless dummy, just as sound and image fuse to create the impression of audio-visual unity. During Vicious’ performance of “My Way,” the ventriloquist and the dummy work against one another to create punk-style anarchy. The dummy, in this case the image of Vicious, resists subordination to the ventriloquist and revolts. The dummy rebels against the ventriloquist, just as the punks revolted against the state and societal conventions. With hair styled in spikes, Doc Marten boots, and a dog chain, Vicious walks down a staircase toward the camera and the diegetic audience, composed primarily of middle-aged, upper-class, theatre-going types, and even the British monarchy. During the song’s first verse, the dummy prepares to break free from both synchronization and the ventriloquist’s tyrannical hold. Vicious sloppily sings the first verse, accompanied by an of-screen smooth jazz orchestra. It is not clear whether he is singing live or if the number has been previously recorded. Vicious does not pronounce the words with clarity; he makes silly faces and deliberately dumbs himself down while changing his vocal intonations. He appears to be performing the song unwillingly, as if forced into cooperating with the soundtrack. In the second verse, anarchy erupts. The orchestra continues to accompany Vicious, but this time with a distinct, punk sound that crashes and booms throughout the theatre. It becomes undeniable that he has been lip-syncing to the music. He pogos, flails, and snarls his way through the verse with quick, heavy guitar rifs and fast drumming. The distortion of the vocals results in a cacophony of pure noise. Vicious’ cover of “My Way” is heavily emotive. It suggests a deep-seated, buried anguish 54 A VOLATILE VENTRILOQUY WITH A VICIOUS DUMMY that pours out in screams. Vicious begins sloppily and sings lazily, but proceeds to aggressively growl and scream as the tune changes to a punk rendition of the song. A song about celebrating life accomplishments and the determination to succeed is mutilated and parodied into something grotesque. Vicious’ version describes a young man’s disillusionment with his homeland and consequent rebellion. The climactic punctuation of the scene occurs when Vicious pulls out a gun and starts shooting at the audience with the recording of his voice/music in the background, representing the ultimate form of Laderman’s slip-sync. The dislodging of the sound and voice is quintessential punk (Laderman 3). Slip-sync is the weapon that the dummy uses to revolt against the ventriloquist. If the punks waged a war against middle-class values, traditionalism, and popular culture, then the slip-sync is yet another form of rebellion against another codified practice of film and sound technology: the synchronization of image and sound. In Sid and Nancy, the slip-sync device is one of insurgency against the ventriloquist’s authority. If the ventriloquist is meant to retain control over their dummy, then why, in Sid and Nancy, is there such a repudiation of unity and synchronization? Negation, negation, negation: unity is not punk. The punk (punkian?) way is abrasive, confrontational, and nonconforming. Why expect any art form that has even the slightest punk sensibility to behave and be represented in a conventional manner? Altman poses two questions. First, why would a ventriloquist want to perpetuate the illusion that their dummy is speaking rather than themself? Furthermore, why would the ventriloquist want to give away the right to speech (Altman 77)? The answer to these questions comes from a ventriloquist manual from 1974 simply titled “Ventriloquism” by Daryl Hutton (77). In the practice of ventriloquism, the core of the art lies in the created personality of the dummy. According to the manual, the dummy possesses the ventriloquist’s hidden and suppressed desires (77). The dummy then functions as an outlet for unconscious psychic material. Presenting the dummy and its repressed shadow traits (traits that have been disavowed by the ventriloquist) is cathartic, as the dummy is the conduit for repressed thoughts and feelings. In the case of Sid and Nancy, the moment where the image breaks away from the soundtrack, the unconscious repressed material of the ventriloquist emerges. Vicious’ fantasy of murder and self-destruction unfolds as he begins to shoot at the audience. The rupture in synchronization is necessary in order for the ventriloquist to experience catharsis.1 While the soundtrack during Vicious’ performance changes from sloppy mockery to explosive punk bravado, the ventriloquist is only able to express what is hidden through Vicious/the dummy when it rejects unity and synchronization. With 55 MONICA FOSTER

this upheaval comes the ventriloquist’s relinquishing of power, allowing their repressed fantasies to roam free in the image. The idea of unleashing repressed intentions reflects a facet of punk. By the mid-1970s, the joviality that was felt in the 1960s evaporated, leaving an air of disillusionment. Gerfried Ambrosch remarks that during the 1970s, Britain was grappling with high unemployment rates and poverty (217). Not only this, but tensions were escalating between the autochthonous British population and the rising number of immigrants from Commonwealth countries, particularly the West Indies, which often resulted in racialized violence. Consequently, Britain became increasingly conservative and adhered to traditional values as symbolized by the country’s royalty (217). As a result, it is no surprise that the older generations despised punk as it weaponized culture to unleash repressed desires and revolt against traditional modes of being. In Sid and Nancy, repressed content and images are found in dreams. This sequence of Vicious rupturing the unity of sound and image has a puzzling efect on the overall narrative of the film; there is no clear narrative link to the scene. The “My Way” sequence has no causal relation to its neighbouring scenes, and the performance does not stem from a character’s subjectivity. The sequence is a dream, and in this dreamscape, the unconscious acts out its darkest desires, which comes with the breakdown of the psyche and the relationship between the visual and aural. Vicious’ “My Way” performance is a demonstration of Laderman’s slip-sync as his voice slips out of sync with the soundtrack, refusing to unify audio and visual. Vicious resists conformity to the traditional audio-visual synchronization and instead engages in a subversive relationship to convention. Mobilizing Rick Altman’s theory of the soundtrack as ventriloquist and the image as the dummy, and applying it to Sid and Nancy, particularly in the scene where Vicious performs “My Way,” erodes the bond between ventriloquist and dummy. The moment where image breaks away from the soundtrack signifies the outpouring of the dummy’s—Vicious’—repressed feelings while simultaneously rebelling against the conventional synchronization of sound and image. It is a punk revolt against cinematic conventions: a complete disavowal of

1 Altman calls attention to the etymology of the word ventriloquism: ventri refers to abdomen or belly. Ventriloquists from the time of ancient Greece were considered prophets and their prophecies were said to emanate from their bellies (Altman 78). He writes that the identification of the ventriloquist’s voice with the belly is one that reveals hidden truths. The body is associated with sex, eating, and excretion. The language of the body is more personal, sincere, and unguarded: the id in Freudian terms. On the other hand, the upper part of the body, which Altman calls the head-voice, is more rational and more acceptable, and can be associated with the superego. The soundtrack, then, is associated with the body truth, and the image with the head truth. 56 A VOLATILE VENTRILOQUY WITH A VICIOUS DUMMY the filmic medium. The scene is the apotheosis of Vicious, but also of the dummy as it frees itself from the ventriloquist’s authority. Through the disunity of sound and image, Sid Vicious is immortalized. He becomes a fallen angel, a punk icon, and his spirit will live on while the dummy forever continues to confront the ventriloquist.

57 MONICA FOSTER Works Cited

Altman, Rick. “Moving Lips: Cinema as Ventriloquism.” Yale French Studies, no. 60, 1980, pp. 67-79. Ambrosch, Gerfried. “American Punk: The Relations between Punk Rock, Hardcore, and American Culture.” Amerikastudien / American Studies, vol. 60, no. 2/3, 2015, pp. 215-33. Chion, Michel. Audio Vision: Sound on Screen. Press, 1994. Cohan, Steven. “Introduction: Musicals of the Studio Era.” Hollywood Musicals: The Film Reader, edited by Steven Cohan, Routledge, 2002, pp. 1-15. Laderman, David. Punk Slash! Musicals: Tracking Slip-Sync on Film. University of Texas Press, 2010. Sid Vicious - The Vermorel Interview. YouTube, uploaded by Slycheetah, 14 April 2011. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJtqDckJJ24. Accessed 14 June 2019. Worley, Matthew. Punk, Politics, and British Youth Culture, 1976-1984. Cambridge University Press, 2017.

Filmography

Adler, Lou, director. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains. , 1982. Cox, Alex, director. Sid and Nancy. The Samuel Goldwyn Company, 1986. Jarman, Derek, director. Jubilee. Cinegate, 1978. Sandrich, Mark, director. Shall We Dance. RKO Pictures, 1937. Stevens, George, director. Damsel in Distress. RKO Pictures, 1937.

58