When some time ago I was looking at the photograph that showed the HINDENBURG over Princeton University on the day of the crah, I was so deeply moved.
Don’t know how to explain, but I felt as if I was looking directly at my father in the control car of the Zep – he was navigator Christian Nielsen who later escaped the crash unharmed. What is still moving me so deeply is that my father was so totally unsuspecting of what awaited him later.
Apart from all the photos and films documenting the whole disaster, the above photograph is holding a special place in my memories!
The grotesque and fearful nature of the ancient Celtic and Druidical gods helps to explain the wild and drunken Celtic culture, particularly in Ireland, where prior to a fight the men would paint themselves blue and tear off their clothes. Wearing only sandals and a golden torc around their neck, they ran naked into battle, shrieking and enraged to such an extent that they were no longer recognizable. Celtic warriors spoke of the warp-spasm which came over them in battle and supposedly transformed them into awesome fighting machines before whom their enemies fled. In order to sleep they would drink themselves into a stupor to avoid the horrible nightmares of the gods who called them to dismember their enemies in extreme acts of rage and cruelty. It is said that some warriors died of fright from these alcohol-induced nightmares even before the battle started. Each Celtic tribe continually warred against and pillaged the others, and they routinely went on slaving raids, entering coastal villages at night or near dawn, stealing women for use as sex slaves and children for household and farm work.
Parry’s hurt is an insoluble wound, the unrestrained imagination of Gilliam boldly projecting his psychological firestorm and making manifest his loss. It’s not only Williams’ darkest performance (surpassing his more on-the-nose creepy roles in "One Hour Photo" and "Insomnia," in addition to the morose antisocial cameos in "Dead Again" and "The Secret Agent"), but also Gilliam’s most affecting and deepest turn as a filmmaker. Director and actor weave together perfect discord in madness, audaciously shifting from a moment of soul enlivening sweetness to one of crushing psychological mutilation, Parry deteriorating from the pose of confident wooer to one of hunched-over self-hatred. He screams in unintelligible and drooling fury at the memories that pursue him to the Hudson’s littered shore.