Blimp Week: Now in 3-D!

For the first scheduled entry in Blimp Week II here at mike.whybark.com, a simple, link-oriented post. Sure, you watched the Hindenberg III slide by last week in the theater, and it was a peculiar mix of grandiose and intimate. But something was missing, nonetheless. What could it be?

Well, in part at least, the answer is nothing less than binocular vision! Thanks to the wonders of modern electron transmission technology, today’s ‘always-on’ intarweb can help to rectify your balance due. At least two sites specialize in presenting 3-D images of airships past to the world.

Zeppelin-3d.de is a German-language frame-based website devoted to a selection of red-green 3D images from the entire history of the initial development of the German rigid airships known as Zeppelins. Lucky for us non-German speakers, the Union Jack to the lower right of the bottom frame opens an English-language menu that points to the rough-and-ready English translations of the web site’s pages, such as this brief set of views featuring the U. S. Navy’s Akron and Macon.

The cross-linked site Stereoscopic Images of Lighter Than Air Flight concentrates on double-print stereographic views, rather than the superimposed images seen at the German site. However, it should be noted that it’s likely that many of the images seen on the German site originated as double-print stereographs, as the Zeppelin company apparently published or sponsored several viewer-integrated stereoscopic souvenir kits.

The preceding links were found via a trip to the invaluable Airship website, maintained for nearly a decade by John Dziadecki.

Easy Targets

Army Floats a Trial Balloon (washingtonpost.com):

Brandreth said American Blimp is promoting the use of airships as airborne surveillance. Many people wrongly assume blimps are vulnerable to bullets fired by, say, drug runners or terrorists.

“Almost everything people think they know about blimps is wrong,” said Brandreth, citing the misconception that a bullet can bring down a blimp. The envelope is rip-proof. And many people seem to consider blimps moving targets.

“We often discover bullet holes when the airships are brought to our hangar for maintenance,” he said. “People shoot at them. Particularly in the country. We think it’s kids, not urban warfare. We just patch it up and go.”

The WaPo (reg status unknown) kicks things off here at Blimp Week II a day early, with this article introducing DC-area residents to their own Blimp Week. The 178-foot blimp, apparently manufactured by Oregon’s American Blimp Corporation, will be performing flight trials for the Army of the metropolitan area of the nation’s capitol. ABC maintains facilities in Hillsboro, Oregon and some space at the Northwest’s surviving former naval LTA base in Tillamook, a location Viv and I visited in spring, 2003, just as the war started.

American Blimp appears to be the non-advertising and tourism arm of Lightships, the primary supplier of lighter-than-air advertising and publicity ships to corporations such as Sanyo, whose vessel stopped by Seattle earlier this year.

Sky Captain and the Blimp Week of Tomorrow

Viv and I caught Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (link advisory: flash, loud SFX) this afternoon. Following the film we ate at the lovely Le Pichet, a tiny French bistro on First, next to the Virginia Inn. The meal was quite pricey but the food was very good.

Sky Captain, as you must know by now, is interesting formally for other reasons than its’ simple cinematic existence. First, the great majority of what you see on screen is wholly rendered via computer; and second, it’s intended as a kind of retro-cinema, not unlike the initial Indiana Jones film, or The Rocketeer. Both Sky Captain and The Rocketeer are fascinated by that long-vanished dinosaur of the sky, the dirigible, and provide contemporary audiences with the closest thing we’ll ever have to seeing the faceted, fragile leviathans slide by our wondering eyes.

Unlike Indy or The Rocketeer, however, Sky Captain is also trying to recreate the cinematic experience of watching a film shot between 1925 and 1940, and goes to great lengths to emulate the visual experience of the older films. This is mostly via post-production desaturation and a gauzy glow that is perfectly recognizable as a sort of filmic seme for High Hollywood. Viv turned to me as we were watching and wanted to know if the film had originally been shot in black-and-white and then colored, a reasonable question based solely on the look of the film.

The good news for retro-tech geeks is that the CGI is fantastic. Thanks to strategic framing, there is nearly no “grounding” problem (seen when computer-rendered elements appear to ‘float’). Unfortunate for everybody is the combination of hyper-realistic detailing in the CGI with the flattening, overall, blended look of the post-processing filters. In non-character-oriented shots, we’re presented with a flurry of edits intended to convey the richly detailed environment. Sadly, the glowing, washed-out look overwhelms the CGI detail, and leaves the viewer wondering if a plot-point just sailed by there in that 10-frame sniplet.

The real bad news is that the dialog and performances are queerly flat, lacking a sense of investment and urgency. This stems partially from the frantic pace of the non-character shots. Mind you, this is nitpicking; none of the leads appear to be sleepwalking. But Gwyneth Paltrow’s Polly Perkins, a reporter, is clearly an homage to Rosalind Russell’s Hildy Johnson from the 1940 His Girl Friday. That’s all to the good. Yet, Jennifer Jason Leigh’s Amy Archer, another Russell homage (from The Hudsucker Proxy) captures the stacatto vocal rythms that are crucial to the thirties mise-en-scene. Alas, Paltrow’s dialog and interplay with Jude Law’s mercenary aviator, while lazily amusing, has nowhere near the verbal power of her character’s forebears.

Much of the relative slow pace of the dialog, oddly, appears to be an artifact of editing. Where the film clips and snips to the detriment of plot in the sequences that include no identifiable human, adding a well-known actor to the frame guarantees a sixfold drop in the cutting rate, and the consequence is that fat remains between the lines. When the DVD for this is released, some enterprising wannabe will trim a solid forty minutes of silent facial tics from the ins and outs of each headshot cut-to and cutaway. I, for one, welcome our volunteer editors, and despite my harsh words here, will anxiously await the DVD of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. With IMDB estimating that the film cost $70m, and with the film making $17m on opening weekend, Box Office Guru [not a permalink] notes that the film saw revenue drop from Monday to Tuesday of next week, and projects $8m for this weekend. Judging by the nearly empty theater at our showing, that seems possible. Alas, that bodes ill for the movie to break even on a six week-run.

It seems probable, however, that the specialized visual content and production processes of Sky Captain open additional revenue possibilities for the film, and the sheer visual and referential density of the piece will lend itself well to DVD (and, one hopes, to video game).

Outside the boundaries of the sketchy review here offered, some notes are in order. I am happy to report that beginning Monday I will be presenting the first sequential series of Blimp Week entries in a couple of years.

A post on Monkeyfilter has inspired this, and consequently I shall address specific information requests from that thread first; I will be providing mirrored links with drastically shorter entries on Monkeyfilter as well. Here’s one geeky tidbit: the dirigibles seen at Joe Sullivan’s base exhibit an “X” control surface configuration which was only ever widely deployed on postwar U. S. Navy blimps, to my imperfect knowledge. Most historical dirigibles (both the German Zeppelins and the rigid airships designed and built elsewhere) used control surfaces arrayed in a vertical and horizontal cross configuration. Contemporary blimps more frequently employ the cross.

Last weekend, as the film opened, a flurry of referrals came to this website for a variety of topics, including "Sky Captain zeppelin" and "Sky Captain Moorcock." Regarding these referrals from Google that imply some people are wondering about Michael Moorcock’s association with, influence on, or input to the story of Sky Captain: I’m making an uninformed guess that while Moorcock probably had no direct input on the story, some of his retro-pulp fictions directly inspired the film-maker. He wrote a terrific neo-pulp trilogy, The Warlord of the Air, which envisions things not that unlike Angelina Jolie’s airborne aircraft carriers.

Mr. Moorcock himself appears concerned about this. I’m not sure I’d say that he should be, but he’s certainly justified in his desire to learn more.

Despite this, the whole point of The Warlord of the Air is the romantic rehabilitation of discredited and abandoned technologies and ideologies. Moorcock’s central historical figure is the obscure Russian revolutionary Nestor Mahkno, who (as I understand these matters) sought to invoke modernist anarchism as the native, culturally-determined ideology of the Russian revolution, in parallel with the Barcelona-based anarchists of the CNT during the Spanish Civil War. Where anarchism took root in the twentieth century, it always reflected long-standing cultural traditions. Moorcock’s resurrection and celebration of early twentieth-century technology, fantasy, and ideology could not be more at odds with the cultural attitudes displayed by the filmmakers of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow.

Instead of a band of revolutionaries, Jude Law’s Joe Sullivan leads a military corporation explicitly identified as a "mercenary" "army-for-hire" in the film’s voice-over. The Hindenburg III is seen to dock at the legendarily-unused mooring-post atop the Empire State Building. Joe Sullivan’s base is clearly home to multiple zeppelins, something which no nation of the thirties accomplished without the willing assistance of the German state. Among the many lovingly recreated montages is a sequence in which the smoking remains of the Reichstag are shown. The implication is that the giant robots did it. (Historically, a Dutch Communist was swiftly executed for the fire, and it’s been argued that the Nazis themselves set the fire, to justify the wholesale suspension of civil liberties that followed.) A newspaper winks in and out of existence in a parade of front pages, spinning by; the Nazi eagle is clearly shown, but the swastika it grasps is obscured. Is it too far-fetched to imagine that in a few years Col. Lindbergh will become the president of this alternative America?

I do not intend to imply that Sky Captain is a Nazi film. In fact, aviation adventure fantasy as a whole frequently exhibits similar attitudes and tropes. The best example is, of course, the comic-book aviator Blackhawk, a Polish nobleman disenfranchised by the Nazis themselves but partial to black uniforms, peaked caps, and cool aerotech just the same. In the late eighties, the terrific Howard Chaykin took an explicit crack at this aspect of the character and by extension, the whole presence of extreme rightist politics within the aviation-adventure fantasy genre. Like Moorcock’s work, however, Chaykin’s revisionist take simply can’t ever be regarded as mainstream within the genre.

The credited works of real-life pilots such as famed German combat aviators Manfred von Richthofen (The Red Baron) and Oswald Boelcke (Richthofen’s predecessor as commandant of Jagdstaffel 11) helped to create the genre itself. Richthofen’s autobiography was in itself a heavily romanticized work intended for public consumption in Germany during the war, and released as an explicit propaganda device by the state. Events such as Lindbergh’s personal embrace of the Nazi state on the eve of World War II and the development of the military doctrine of bombing civilian populations helped cement a set of genre assumptions that must be viewed as right-leaning.

It’s most typical of postwar works in this revival genre to combat the preceding critique by positing that the hero of the piece is primarily occupied by the challenges of fighting Nazis, even on the eve of World War II (see all the Indy films, for example; The Rocketeer, of course, and, yes, Blackhawk). Perhaps it’s only made notable in Sky Captain by its’ absence.

The mainstream pulp works of the time, like Sky Captain, simply disregard the political milieu of the motivating technology. This disregard, in the end, undermines the appeal of the fantasy world. While we are clearly informed that Joe Sullivan was in Nanjing helping cover the Allied retreat from Shanghai, another conflict is conspicuously not mentioned. I find myself shifting uncorfortably, wondering how much fun would it be to live in a world with giant robots and the Hindenburg III when it’s easy to picture Joe flying for Franco in Spain.

Of course, in the case of a sequel, I could easily be proved wrong. Surely the film’s creators don’t wish for such an interpretation. Choosing to struggle with the conflicting obligations of the twentieth century in ways that reflect on our current predicament might conceivably be profitably explored in a film that mixes Franco’s war with the fantasy world of Sky Captain. Here’s hoping.

On a bright September morning

I’m a day late with this.

A few days ago, I received a note in my email. It read, in large part, “In case you haven’t located a recorded version of the ‘Wreck of the Shenandoah’ I have attached a copy.”

Attached to the email was an mp3.

The very first year I was blogging, I wrote a long piece about the loss of the USS Shenandoah, the first US-built rigid airship. The airborne giant was torn apart in a violent storm above Ohio in the very early morning hours of September 3, 1925.

Subsequent to the original piece, I posted the lyrics to a song by Vernon Dalhart, The Wreck of the Shenandoah, which I had mentioned in the original essay.

The mp3 I received via email is that song, as recorded by Dalhart and withdrawn from commercial circulation within a month of the accident.

The original post is also worth checking out for the various comments it’s drawn.

Sanyo Lightship

The Sanyo Lightship has been buzzing my neighborhood since the weekend, and unaccountably, there’s been no Googleable local press. Interestingly, Sanyo itself has not been updating their news and info very much.

Foolishly, I did not immediately attempt to talk my way on board the day I saw it in flight. Even more foolishly, there have been several times I’ve seen it where if I had been carrying a camera, I would have been able to snap a real version of this (docking and multiple blimps aside).

Curtiss' Airship

Building Airships and Flying-Machines, by G. H . Curtiss. [at Bizarre Stuff.]

In building an airship, it is well to first determine the weight of the frame, propellers, engine, controlling mechanism and operator; then build, or purchase, the gas bag, of proper dimensions and sufficient capacity to lift the desired weight, together with a reasonable amount of ballast, which in a one-man outfit should be about 50 lb. Experience has taught us that a 7-hp. engine driving a suitable propeller will furnish sufficient pull to drive a one-man airship as fast as it can be readily controlled.

The casual reader may wish to note that Mr. Curtiss is less noted for his contributions to lighter-than-air aviation than for his distinguished contributions to powered flight.

Blimp Week, part 742

Zepps, at the recently cited Dannysoar site, contains plans for not one but TWO stick-and-tissue free-flight model zeps. Ah, lovely.

Dannysoar’s stuff is absolutely top-notch; it’s even somehow appropriate that the site employs aggregational navigation.

UPDATE: Oh my God. Le Gyroptère, a mono-wing helicopter aparently modeled upon the flight technique employed by maple seeds. Amazingly, copious documentation of this incredible thing exists.

A day late, but lighter than air

Telegraph | News | Mighty Zeppelin returns to skies over London (Telegraph of 06-21)

A sight that once brought fear to the hearts of our grandparents and great-grandparents, a mighty Zeppelin, followed the route of the Thames into central London yesterday.

Zeppelin NT has a customer in the land of the rising sun. The vessel is scheduled to make a journey from Europe to Japan, apparently by air rather than shipping container. Gotta keep my eye on the ball, because it’s shameful that I missed this bolus.

The one true…

thingsmagazine.net‘s jpl mentioned that his fambly posesses a fragment of the zeppelin L32, shot down over England the 23rd of September 1916. A police account may be found here, and entertainingly, an illustration of Lt. Sowrey’s victory over the L32 may be found within the deep reservoir of Rosebud’s WWI and Early Aviation Image Archive, the link that prompted my discussion with jpl in the first place.

(Rosebud is a former comrade-in-pixels of mine from my days as a kite-wrassler in the underpopulated massively-multiplayer online sim Dawn of Aces.)

I’m pretty sure it’s a different 23rd of September than the one the song is about. It’s also worth noting that this is not the Great Zeppelin Raid, which took place in February 1916.

jpl notes that it’s uncertain how the object came to his family. If our cousins over there behaved as we did when one of these huge things came down in our countryside, I’d guess a relative came as a part of a crowd and took the cross away as a souvenir. I would particularly direct new readers to the comments on the linked entry which feature personal anecdotes relating to souvenirs and at least one eyewitness acount of the death of the airship in question, the USS Shenandoah.

In this instance, there is a song.