By Timothy Wright
Bombs happen-or at least they can happen. For most of us, the threat poised by the presence of modem nuclear weapons is a menacing reality that lurks in the dark shadows of our contemporary consciousness.
The purpose of this paper is to examine the unique imagery presented within the film Raising Arizona and to suggest that the structure and handling of this imagery communicates a subtle but decisive message of hope for a generation growing up under the constant uncertainty of the modern nuclear threat. Whether or not this emphasis was a conscious element in the filmmaker's original intent, the symbolic attachments and arrangement of the images in the film clearly draw upon the audience's cultural awareness of the nuclear issue and come together in such a way as to convey a subtle message of reassurance and hope.
The Nuclear Threat and Contemporary Culture
Before probing the imagery of Raising Arizona it will be helpful to take a brief look at contemporary attitudes toward the nuclear threat. Most now living have grown up with a semiconscious awareness of the fact that, for reasons far beyond our personal control, the world as we know it is capable of coming to an abrupt and violent end at any moment. We live with this unsettling knowledge and, for the most part, manage to maintain a semblance of sanity in the midst of it. The nuclear threat is a reality that, by necessity, most have learned to live with, hoping it will somehow go away.
It is disturbing to think that the very air could suddenly erupt into a massive fireball-probably before anyone could muster enough presence of mind to duck or dial 911. This unimaginable image continues to force itself into our consciousness. The Cold War is over, but the Saddam Husseins of the world seem determined to keep us on the edge of a post-Hiroshima world of nuclear possibilities.
Many modem psychologists claim that the fear of a nuclear war is having a major impact on the emotional well-being of our society and may well be the "greatest source of stress today" (Sanders 49). In a study published in the Journal of Peace Research, the authors note that since World War Two, the fear of a nuclear holocaust has become "a dominant cultural image in the United States" (161). Findings in the sane study indicate that 58 percent of Americans today still believe that a nuclear war is likely to occur sometime during their lives (166).
Many Americans link the horrifying images associated with nuclear warfare with their unspoken fears of impending supernatural judgment. Spiritual warnings suddenly have tangible means of expression. The prophetic picture proclaimed in 2 Peter 3:10 not only seems physically possible, but imminently probable: "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare."
Raising Arizona and Holocaust Imagery
Raising Arizona is neither about the nuclear holocaust nor the end of the world. In what Lawrence O'Toole called "a madcap meditation on American society," (69) Raising Arizona tells the story of a couple who kidnap a baby because they are not able to conceive children of their own.
The "second child" of brothers Joel and Ethan Cohen (Blood Simple), Raising Arizona met with mixed reviews upon its release in 1987. Comments ranged from calling it "stupefyingly boring," (Kauffmann 24) to heralding it as "a hoot and a half" (Ansen 73) and a display of "the redemptive power of innocence" (Mayhan 598).
One reviewer referred to it as "an updated version of the 1938 comedy, Bringing Up Baby, substituting a real toddler for the leopard that kept Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn so dizzily and romantically frantic" (O'Toole 69). Nevertheless, in this writer's view, this creative film is a fascinating and intriguing work, filled with a barrage of interesting and imaginative choices in its selection of camera shots, editing sequences, and compelling imagery. Its unique style of comedy is paralleled by its unusual filmic technique: its use of extreme high and low camera angles, unexpected and idiosyncratic camera movements, and the frequent and startling application of wide angle lenses at close range. Surrealistic imagery punctuates this unusual and eccentric film. The environment presented to the viewer is a sort of "pop-art version of the desert" where everything has an artificial flavor and the unusual lighting makes the world look like "a twenty-four hour supermarket" (Kael 81). The sound track is filled with a peculiar blend of vocals, whistling, and yodeling which add to its eccentric style.
In spite of its self-consciously comedic and somewhat "campy" execution, Raising Arizona communicates beyond the level of mere appearances and is able to convey concepts that address serious issues in society. The plot is built around the story of H.I. (Nicholas Cage) "a good-natured but mildly imbecile petty criminal in the Southwest, who holds up convenience stores with an unloaded gun" (Simon 52). He also serves as the occasional narrator of the film. Desperate to begin a family, H.I. and his ex-police officer wife, "Ed" (Holly Hunter), decide to kidnap a baby from a set of quintuplets that have been born to wealthy Arizona businessman, "Nathan Arizona, Senior,"--a man who seems to have an overabundance of just about everything, including children. H.I.'s and Ed's attempt to "complete their lives" sparks the tempest of mischief and adventure and the onslaught of bizarre characters and situations that make up the remainder of the movie (Barth 22).
The most prominent and definitely the most ominous image running through the film is that of the "Lone Biker of the Apocalypse," played by ex-boxer Randall "Tex" Cobb. Surrounded by foreboding images borrowed from both biblical and folk symbolism, the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse is, as one reviewer said, "a quasi-supernatural, seemingly indestructible, murderous sadist" who draws heavily on our cultural fears (Simon 53). First introduced within the setting of a dream, the Biker erupts from a massive wall of sulfurous flames on a Harley-Davidson "hog," silhouetted against the backdrop of a torrential yellow-orange blaze of the fireball raging behind him. The silhouette of the two rifles strapped across his back create the shadowed illusion of supernatural wings protruding up and beyond his shoulders on either side of his head. In the dream, the rider and his motorcycle race toward the viewer with a seemingly unstoppable determination. The unworldly imagery surrounding this figure is enhanced by several camera shots where the character and his motorcycle are made to look as if they are literally flying over the rolling hills of the desert highway.
The Biker appears at critical moments throughout the film. Initially hired by the police to track down two of H.I.'s friends who have escaped from prison, the Biker soon diverts his efforts from finding the convicts to chasing after the reward money offered for the return of the kidnapped baby taken by H.I. and Ed. When the two convicts come to hide out with H.I. and Ed, it seems that both trails followed by the Biker will lead him to the same place. His endorsement by the authorities augment his expanded role as an instrument of justice. His prophetic character unites the violent disposition of a Hell's Angel with the biblical horseman of the Apocalypse sent to wreak havoc on the earth as Judgment for the sins of mankind.
In the book of Revelation in the Bible we-read: "The horses and riders I saw in my vision looked like this: Their breastplates were fiery red, dark blue, and yellow as sulfur. The heads of the horses resembled the heads of lions, and out of their mouths came fire, smoke and sulfur. A third of mankind was killed by the three plagues of fire, smoke, and sulfur that came out of their mouths." (Rev. 9:17-18)
This menacing figure may also be seen as a distorted prophet-- a messenger of doom with supernatural skills to fulfill his task of destruction. His violence is universal: He will destroy everything in his path. He has a seemingly omniscient ability to track his prey, and displays his almost inhuman physical dexterity by catching a fly in mid-air between his fingertips. These qualities help to solidify this unearthly connection, as does his appearance. An evil-looking tattoo proclaiming "Mama Didn't Love Me" is etched onto his upper arm over a hollow-eyed skull and crossbones. His rugged face and unkempt clothing are reminiscent of a corrupt Old Testament prophet, ready to chastise and punish the sinner for his transgressions.
Like the biblical horseman, the Lone Biker is characterized by the imagery of fire--an element synonymous with nuclear war. Smoke billows from his mouth and nostrils as he slowly exhales the fire from the smoldering cigar clinched tightly between his teeth. When the Biker is shot in the hand, flashes of crackling blue flame leap out from inside the bullet wound. In another scene, a lone flower that has managed to blossom in the dry desert sand alongside the highway (suggesting a glimmer of hope amidst the and barrenness), suddenly erupts into flames when the Biker blasts by. A constant blue blaze shoots out from the dual exhaust pipes of his motorcycle, occasionally erupting into a rushing white-hot flare.
The Lone Biker is outfitted with a large arsenal of weapons. These he unleashes on unsuspecting and undeserving desert wildlife. He hurls hand grenades at small rabbits as he rides by. The sulfurous mushroom cloud of fire and smoke caused by the explosion can be seen erupting in his wake, evoking the imagery of a nuclear detonation. The narrator describes the Biker as one who is always "turning day to night, destroying little creatures, and leaving scorched earth in his wake" (Barth 22).
The music and sound effects associated with this intimidating character are also evocative of judgment and apocalyptic holocaust. When the Biker's ominous silhouette appears on the screen, the low echo of distant thunder, reminiscent of an atomic explosion, can be heard rumbling in the background. Also, just under this low rumble, the faint sound of a baby crying can be distinguished. This bizarre mingling of auditory impressions elicits an eerie mood of impending crisis. Numerous repetitions of this combination operates on several emotional levels simultaneously; creating a sense of helplessness and a sustained premonition of approaching disaster.
The seemingly unstoppable, unrelenting threat that the Biker of the Apocalypse represents is succinctly captured in a montage of shots showing the different characters of the film sleeping, each in their individual settings. Only the lead character, H.I. is awake. He is composing a letter to his wife telling her that he is leaving her and Nathan Junior for their own good. (Filled with delightfully hyperbolic cornball poetry about the mystery and profundity of life, his letter expresses an earnest search for meaning, crippled by a hopeless sense of despair in regard to the future.) The screen montage interwoven with H.I.'s narration of the text of his letter juxtaposes the entire cast of sleeping characters resting quietly as H.I. wrestles with his conscience and the deep questions of existence. All this is interrupted with a sustained shot of the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse rumbling down the road in the night, presumably getting closer and closer to fulfilling his purpose of ruin and destruction on the lives of H.I. and his family.
As if the Lone Biker were not enough, a second threat to H.I. and his family develops when H.I.'s former cell mates, "Gale" (John Goodman) and "Evelle" (Bill Forsythe) escape from prison and eventually attempt to steal Nathan Junior from them. Their bizarre escape, which occurs relatively early in the film, takes place during a thunderstorm and torrential downpour. With the rain splashing down on the bare dirt, we suddenly see a mud-covered figure emerge from the ground; struggling to free himself from his muddy grave. This hideous-looking form seems to be ascending from the very depths of hell as he slowly stands and screams at the top of his lungs in celebration of the victory over his muddy tomb. The massive figure then turns and reaches down into the pit from which he has just freed himself. He then pulls out a foot, which is eventually revealed to be attached to another mud-covered figure, apparently breach-born into this strange new world.
The scene conjures striking images of demons emerging from the pits of hell, a scenario associated with apocalypse and biblical judgment for centuries. This association becomes even more pertinent in the film when these two slimy characters begin to disrupt and torment H.I.'s and Ed's family aspirations. Their deceitful allegiance with the couple eventually turns into a devious attempt to steal Nathan Junior from them and to adopt him into their life of crime--a symbolic representation of the endeavor to rob H.I. and Ed of their hope.
In summary, the violence and impending doom of the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse, coupled with his association with fire and the barrenness of the desert in which he rides, are reminiscent of the global violence, fire, and desolation of nuclear destruction. The link between the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse and the audience's fears regarding the looming threat of a nuclear holocaust is a connection that seems both logical and justified.
Hope in Raising Arizona
Juxtaposed to the ominous character of the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse is little "Nathan Junior"-
- baby who, in this film, seems to represent hope for the future in a chaotic and dangerous world. Chosen from the five "Arizona Quintuplets," we notice almost immediately that little Nathan Junior never seems to cry or fuss or express anything other than happiness and contentment. Unshaken by the maniacal environment surrounding him, he is the calmest, most secure member of the cast. The other characters seem to revolve around and seek after his untainted innocence. Everyone wants Nathan Junior, albeit for different reasons. Nathan Junior represents a hope beyond the present circumstances of these characters. He is the future.
Along with Nathan Junior, the unique marriage between H.I. and Ed also provides some interesting symbolism on the positive side of Raising Arizona. These two characters come from opposite extremes of the social and legal spectrum: one an ex-convict and the other a former police officer. This unlikely union could be said to represent the dualistic tendencies of mankind toward both "good" and "evil" in his natural desires. Their alliance is a symbolic representation of mankind in his present state. Their communal search for hope and a future symbolized by their abduction of Nathan Junior seems to parallel mankind's quest for these same ideals.
H.I. is a type of "Everyman" on an earnest, almost desperate quest for happiness and family normality in the midst of the modem human experience. His sincerity and slightly moronic confusion reflect the response of a basically good but finite man to the widespread demise of reason in the world. His hyperbolic earnestness and pseudo-intellectual/poetic use of language provide both a source of humor and a basis for identification. Lines such as, "Her insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase," work not only to make us laugh; they also provide us with insight into this character's frustrations and futile attempts, thus far, to find a sense of hope and purpose in his world.
The Apocalyptic Conclusion: Good and Evil and the Postponed Holocaust
The climatic scene between H.I. and the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse results in the total destruction of the latter when he is blown sky high by his own explosives (again the imagery of fire). The closing shot of this climatic sequence shows a burning motorcycle boot falling to the ground after the blast. The next shot shows a pair of leather baby shoes, shown earlier attached to the belt of the Lone Biker, failing beside the smoldering motorcycle boots. Again, the faint sound of a baby crying can be heard over the rumbling of the explosion. The image of the baby shoes is slowly enveloped within a superimposed "frame," creating the illusion of a framed photograph of the tiny shoes. The image of the baby shoes then immediately fades from the frame leaving an empty space, which then becomes the window frame of Nathan Junior's bedroom through which H.I. enters, returning the baby to his natural parents.
This ultimate undoing of the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse is a significant symbolic expression in the film. If we consider this character a figurative representation of the threat of mass destruction in our society, his demise can be interpreted as a herald of hope. The implications of the protagonist's courage in confronting this portentous adversary and, against all odds, finding himself the victor suggest that hope is indeed a possibility in our own circumstances.
The end of the film finds H.I. and Ed returning Nathan Junior to his natural parents and choosing to focus their hope and attention on the "now" of their marriage. This seems to imply that true hope for the future is secured through the accentuation of the present, rather than with an unhealthy preoccupation with fears for what might happen. To embrace life is to focus on today rather than to lose sight of it because of a hyper-concentration on tomorrow.
The closing scenes of Raising Arizona reveal a vision of a future full of children and grandchildren, presumably belonging to H.I. and Ed. This symbolic future is presented in a dream as a hopeful possibility, not a definite certainty. The implied message seems to be that the future will take care of itself if we are faithful to the duties and responsibilities of the present. Hope for tomorrow is secured in the actions of today. Certainty is a myth. Hope is a reality. The film concludes with an exuberant banjo rendition of "Ode to Joy" (Mayhan 598).
Conclusion
Raising Arizona is filled with imagery both intriguing and thought-provoking. In spite of its comedic format, this film delivers more than laughs. It fills our senses with a barrage of unusual and provocative pictures that force us to make metaphoric connections that stimulate our minds and stir our emotions. It causes us to reflect on our own experience in our own real and dangerous world and offers us a quiet message of hope in the midst of our fear and uncertainty about what lies ahead. If we examine this film closely, we find that the collection of images and impressions speak directly to the present world situation. They combine to offer a message of hope and encouragement for a generation living under the threat of nuclear annihilation. They exhort us to face our fears and to wrestle with the foreboding issues that rob us of our daily peace of mind. They suggest that, in spite of the seemingly insurmountable odds that confront us, we might just be able to escape the hellish beast. They envision a future and a place "where all parents are strong and wise and capable, and all children are happy and beloved." They propose the possibility that we might have something to smile about after all.
Bibliography
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Simon, John. "Bringing Down Baby." Rev. of Raising Arizona, by Joel and Ethan Cohen. National Review 8 May 1987: 52-54.