"Our Thoughts Make Spirals in Their World..."

Further Discussion on Film
Adaptation and “The Willows”
with Blackwood’s Biographer,
Mike Ashley
by WAYNE SPITZER

I recently had the privilege of discussing my planned adaptation of Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows” with the legendary Mike Ashley, author of some sixty SF, horror and fantasy genre related books including Starlight Man: The Extraordinary Life of Algernon Blackwood. As in the first part of this article, the following are excerpted from correspondences with Mike regarding my plans to shoot the movie.

Wayne:
Extremely interesting comments, Mike (see Letters for Algernon). And helpful, indeed -- especially this notion that the protagonists might be as bewildered and unhinged by what is going on as the filmmakers!

As for the story itself, the fulcrum of my initial approach has centered on the character of the Swede. I have tried to establish a scenario in which some of the more inexplicable events (such as the missing steering paddle) might almost, and I stress almost -- be his doing. There is something missing in his stolid, pragmatic nature, perhaps, which has allowed something else to get in: The voice of the place --a whisper of the forces at play in this "frontier" region. I have tried to suggest that he is in fact experiencing a "death by substitution", just as he fears. He is not fully conscious of this substitution, yet it is working on him, calling him.

He is unwittingly channeling them, I suppose. But this approach may only be the result of an unconscious effort on my part to explain things, which you've suggested, rightly, I think, may work against the piece.

I think what I am trying to do is to give contemporary viewers something they can hang on to in the face of the unfathomable. An optional interpretation for those who want it, or need it. As for the willows themselves, my current approach suggests that they are the manifestations of these beings in our dimension. That isn't really what I mean, but words seem to abandon me when it comes to this material, which, I suppose, is why it works so well.

Frankly, what interests me here is the seeing of nature in a new and terrifying way. What interests me is that constant wind, that gurgling water, that otter which isn't quite an otter. We've done a number of experiments like shooting cutaways of rustling willow stems and then reversing the action, which tends to make them look, well -- off, somehow. Alien. The idea isn't so much to show the viewer something new as it is to show them something mundane through a new lens, which isn't so different from what fine artists like Edward Weston and Yvonne Jacquette have been doing for years. It's the dancing plastic bag moment from American Beauty, but in this case that "entire life behind things" isn't necessarily beautiful -- it's bloody terrifying. And it sure as hell isn't benevolent. The men in my version of "The Willows" have an epiphany for the worst, I'm afraid.

At any rate, do let me know if any of this sounds close to the mark.

Mike Ashley:
I like the idea of using the Swede as a "channel". That certainly wouldn't clash with some of the intimations in the story, though he is entirely innocent or unaware of him being the cause for this.

Also running willows rustling backwards sounds excellent. I reckon that would work well.

The question seems to be; just how much of an explanation is needed? I think Blackwood says enough about this being a "doorway" between dimensions and that kind of discussion can easily go on in the tent during the second night, but that doesn't mean they need to come to a solution.

Blackwood was always of a view that where environments change -- such as from pasture to woodland or from woodland to rock or rock to sea -- those points of change are also points where nature is at its most turbulent and where barriers between dimensions are thinnest. He would never camp at any such divide because it was dangerous. You could always inject that viewpoint into one of the characters.

Wayne:
Found your comments regarding the division between environments electrifying, and will certainly work that in. I have already been toying with the notion of divisions in the river's currents -- in terms of various cutaways which would show racing water directly alongside becalmed waters, flowing together but apart, and thus supporting the theme. This idea of not wanting to camp at the threshold of environmental changes gives us a stunning peek into how AB's mind worked, at least with regard to nature, or un-nature.

As for those "explanations", I agree, too much of that will only bleed the work of its power. Again, I think what I am trying to do is explain it to myself, so that what seems mysterious to the viewer will nonetheless follow its own internal logic.

Those tent/campfire scenes, by the way, are the kinds of things that give filmmakers headaches. Too much of the story's latter half, it seems, consists of the two men talking. That works fine in a textual work, or in a play, but in a film it can be stifling. My aim is to split this section in two, so that in the part where the Swede warns, "Our thoughts make spirals in their world," and that "they are searching around for us," -- the men are actually fishing, casting their lines into the current, making little ripples. Trying, desperately, to appear casual, even as their questing hooks perpetuate the metaphor.

As I don't want to spend the next few months completing the screenplay only to find I've misunderstood the source material in some fundamental way, expect more emails.

Mike Ashley:
Glad my few comments are helping. Your idea of splitting the tent discussion with one of them fishing is a good one. I know what you mean by too much talking in one place and not enough action. Presumably, though, you're also starting with them journeying down the Danube and though this is before all the problems begin perhaps some of the basic ideas can be suggested then -- woven into their idle thoughts.

By all means. I'd happily cast an eye through anything you're able to send me. I'll try and respond quickly, though I'm up to me eyes in four different projects at the moment including a huge book on King Arthur which is already two months behind schedule. But that's never stopped me before!
-- Mike

I encourage anyone with a passion for SF/Fantasy & Horror to seek out Mike's books, as well as to explore the literary legacy left us by Algernon Blackwood. Finding his (Blackwood's) books -- in physical form, at least -- can be like herding cats; he's fallen through the cracks of time while lesser talents, many of whom were directly inspired by his work, have flourished. With enough interest, we may yet see a Blackwood revival. One thing's for certain: you'll never look at the world quite the same after reading him.

Would that the contemporary horror film could achieve the same.