With Meatdaze, Jeff Keen tried to create a full cinema programme all in one
film. He divided it into six sections, of which three main parts can be
discerned: rapid animations (the cartoons of the programme), naked people at
play (the supporting feature) and finally a collage of action and
superimposition (the main feature).
The whole film is married to a sequence of library film music, evoking
classic cinema themes which in turn lead us to attempt to transform the variety
of fractured sequences into some kind of overarching narrative. The
fighter plane gunfire also on the soundtrack conjures up Keen's wartime
experiences and makes a dynamic link to the rush of 'culture' that Meatdaze
thrusts at us. The sound/image combination asks what actually lies behind
the plastic dolls, newspaper stories, Mickey Mouse toys and other ephemera that
pervade our culture, and even dares to suggest that they represent a form of
latent violence. These hints of darkness set Meatdaze apart from the many
other films and graphics that drew on images of popular culture for collage
around this time. The exploration of these issues is more intuitive - and
even mythic - than, say, the work of pop artist Richard Hamilton, who asked
similar but perhaps more direct questions with his static collage piece,
'Just What Is It That Makes Today's Homes So Different, So Appealing?', in
1956.
The final section of the film bombards the viewer with mounting juxtaposition
as the number of exposures increases. The ambiguity of meaning and scope
for different readings multiply as the diverse symbolic actions presented -
melting dolls, bubbles pouring over dolls houses, a man wearing burnt clothes
pulling a bag of film from a cupboard - unfold without reference to any kind of
broader motivation. Meatdaze throws up countless references but doesn't
tie them down. Instead they and the film itself remain free, loose and
wild.
William Fowler *This film is included in the BFI DVD and Blu-ray compilations GAZWRX: The Films of Jeff Keen.
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