GORDON THE MOVIE : PART THREE
...BY FAR THE BEST OPTION IS TO TAKE
THE LINK TO YouTube BELOW AND THERE YOU CAN
FILL YOUR SCREEN WITH THE MOVIE INSTEAD OF STARING AT A TINY IMAGE HERE ON MY APPALLING BLOG...
However don't forget all the extra Gordon related jottings here that you won't find anywhere else...

Link direct to YouTube to view:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhkaHcZmgtQ

NEW! Check out the 'Gordon the Movie' quiz on Facebook.



THE STORY OF THE AERIAL OPENING SEQUENCE THAT NEVER WAS...

The intended spectacular opening of 'Gordon the Movie' mentioned in the Venue article below would have been spectacular as intended, had it not been for the deteriorated condition of the meteorological balloons stolen for me from the Granada TV stores in Manchester by my cousin Chaz.
The plan was to open the film with spectacular high altitude wind induced zip pans of the Severn estuary and surrounds, then to descend a couple of thousand feet at a massive rate of knots coming to rest in a close up of the side of Gordon the Dummy's face.
From massive panoramic aerial vistas to extreme close up in one shot.
Eat your heart out, Orson.
This would be followed by a cutaway of the toxic waves of the Severn lapping at the Severn "beach", then cut back to a matching close up of Gordon the Man licking an ice lolly, sat on a bench. This shot we already had from before his death, obviously.
The shoot was planned for about a week before the well hyped World Premiere, scheduled for November 19th, 1982.
Cutting it fine?
Well, perhaps a little.
And we'd have got away with it too, if it hadn't been for those pesky meteorological balloons....
So the set up was, firstly the dummy, with sculpted painted head, and wooden framed flexible body, built by Annie Beardsley (here think 2 x 1 and wing knuts), dressed in typical Gordon attire, i.e. overcoat and scarf, seated on a bench on the Severn Beach prom.
Under the bench is stationed Vic, partner of my partner Sophie's mum Sally, wielding a large hammer on the wooden handle of which is mounted a large fishing reel, on which is mounted a couple of thousand feet of heavy duty fishing line. The line passes up through Gordon the Dummy's wooden thighs, and is then attached to a small lightweight super 8 camera, mounted upside down. Above this, the line is attached to a number of enormous gas inflated meteorological balloons.
The plan goes like this...the camera is held in a close up of Gordon the Dummy's face and the trigger is pulled and locked on....with camera running, the balloon and camera package is released...the package rises rapidly, eventually levelling at a couple of thousand feet, camera still running.....the wind hits the package and blasts it from side to side, giving us the zip pan effect. When the film is processed, it is projected in reverse. Because the camera was upside down whilst shooting, the shot is the right way up when it starts zip panning at 2,000 feet, prior to descending for it's close up....
The reality goes like this...the camera is switched on and locked, giving us the close up...the package is released, and rises according to plan...by about six feet, not according to plan, and then starts to descend...I give it a hefty bat with my fist, it rises again momentarily, and then sinks down over the sea wall to land in the toxic mud they call beach, with camera still running.
I have the resulting footage stashed somewhere in England.
It looks great. Such as it is.
Damn those pesky low flying low budget balloons.
So the film now opens with Gordon the Man scoffing an ice lolly. And not a dummy nor an aerial descent in sight.
Whilst shooting the above, we were asked on a number of occasions if "our grandad" was ok, as he looked a bit pastey. Talk about a concerned understatement.

WHY BITS OF FAMOUS DEAD PEOPLE?

Why does the star of the film sell bits of famous dead people??
And what does it have to do with the aerial opening that never was?

Well, I once had a most excellent friend (he really was!) called Silly Phil, back in my Stockport days.
He had previously been called simply Phil, but he succumbed to the temptations of far too much mescaline in the late 60's and his name changed accordingly.
Around 1970 some anarcho-freaks living opposite him blew up a drug squad car whilst he was being busted in his flat.
Silly Phil became hunted by both the freaks and the police...the freaks thought he'd later squealed on them ( he hadn't), and Det. Insp. Jackson ( his car ) wasn't bright enough to work out the unlikelihood of Phil blowing up the car whilst simultaneously being busted!
So Silly Phil went on the run.
The last time I saw him was in the mid 70's in a major railway station "somewhere in England".
He was still staying extremely mobile.
Then a few years later I heard he was in prison. He and a group of cohorts had been busted whilst operating a cross channel drug smuggling operation using enormous radio controlled cargo carrying model aircraft, controlled from speed boats below.
As a result my planned epic movie was going to have an aerial opening shot taken from a large remote controlled incoming model aircraft. However the idea of a cargo (and thus a plot premise) as mundane as drugs struck me as a bit stock.
Around this time, Charlie Chaplin's body was kidnapped from it's grave.
I needed something small and valuable but a little out of the ordinary for a model aircraft to be smuggling.
Not drugs. Not diamonds. Not money. Not nuclear materials. All too normal movie plot style.
But Charlie Chaplin? Not a whole body obviously, but there it was....famous dead peoples' body parts.
The customers??
Collectors, fans, perverts, those who might think to outlive their contemporaries by consuming them.
I remembered being shown pictures at school of Napoleon's testicles displayed as part of a priceless antique ornament, and off we went.
As time and the script went on, the opening and the model aircraft and the smuggling disappeared.
Only the body parts remained.
And at the last moment an attempt was made to shoot a rather different aerial opening sequence, but this was inspired more by a Dutch experimental movie I once saw, using a small camera attached to a kite.
The movie camera, attached to the kite, zip panned about spectacularly in the wind, only to descend at great speed to crash into long grass, which it showed in close up until rescued and switched off.
I liked it, so I nicked it.
Almost.

TRANSLATE MY BLOG INTO ANY ONE OF EIGHT LANGUAGES RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW WITH BABEL FISH...

GORDON THE MOVIE : PART TWO
PLUS: The 'Venue' magazine article which preceded the premiere...




THIS IS THE 'GORDON THE MOVIE' ARTICLE IN BATH AND BRISTOLS' 'WHAT'S ON?' MAGAZINE 'VENUE' WHICH CAME OUT JUST BEFORE THE FILM'S PREMIERE AT THE LITTLE THEATRE CINEMA IN BATH ON FRIDAY 19th NOVEMBER 1982.
BELOW THE SCANS IS A MORE EASILY READABLE TEXT VERSION OF THE ARTICLE.

'Venue' magazine were great supporters of the film, happily printing articles, giving me the front cover, ( a rare instance of a single Super 8 frame being blown up to front a magazine cover), paying for the film posters to be printed and loaning us their fly posting team.
My belated thanks to Dougal Templeton, the then editor and Dave Higgitt the film editor for their courageous support....neither ( luckily) had seen the film at this point. I also had great support from the (in)famous Johnny Walker on Great Western Radio, who did several live interviews and regularly plugged the film. True to character, his first words to me were "Hi...got any drugs man?"
Following on from this, one of the interviewees, a renowned and normally erudite local magazine editor invited in to give a review of the premiere, was inopportunely reduced to jibbering jelly when Johnny thrust a large fat one into his mouth seconds before the interview commenced.
The resulting interview went something like this... ( think Cheech and Chong here.....)
"So tell me about this film Gordon the Movie?...."
...." well, this guy Nasher maaaan, he's like made this ummm, film with, like absolutely nothing man....it's amazing, he's just like, done it man with like, nothing, no money man.......amazing...."
And on and on....etc etc....maaaan.

TEXT ONLY VERSION OF DAVE HIGGITT'S ARTICLE:

NASHERVISION

"You've heard of low budget - well, this is no budget!" Yes folks, it's finally here: the cheapest, wierdest feature film in the history of film making. Inspired by and starring a Bath piano-playing tramp who died before the film could be completed, 'Gordon - The Movie' is a home movie product with a big screen vision. It's tacky trash; plotless, bizarre and hauntingly surreal. Filmed in and around the less scenic parts of Bath and Bristol, 'Gordon' was four years in the making and is the work of a life time (so far anyway) by Paul 'Nasher' Nachman, part time philosopher and full time film nut. DAVE HIGGITT reports.

THE STORY behind the making of 'Gordon - The Movie' is a remarkable one, both tragic and funny. It was back in 1978 when Nasher happened to be out filming in the Walcot Village Hall. Well-liked down-and-out and pub pianist Gordon Robbins moved into frame and broke into an impromptu tap-dancing routine. Gordon had been in the Bath scene since the early sixties, dossing around, bashing key boards, sleeping rough and doing stints with the Bath Arts Workshop. He was a hard drinker but a man with a mind of his own. He enjoyed performing, Nasher enjoyed filming him...and the movie began.
"It had no real beginning as such," explains Nasher. "I had some ideas and images. I knew I wanted to involve Gordon and Mick Banks. I suppose if there was a moment of inspiration it was one winter afternoon when I was sitting in a hut in Victoria Park. I was freezing my balls off, it was getting dark. And I just sat there and hallucinated the whole film."

Gordon and the very thin and very talented street performer Mick Banks made a commitment to be available for however long it took to complete the project, and a variety of musical and acting talent from Bath would be drawn on when the need or opportunity arose over the next few years. With such a grandiose plan, Nasher decided that a bit of funding from South West Arts would not go amiss. So he wrote a script of sorts, applied for a £1,200 grant and got back the inevitable rejection.
"I thought it was quite cheap for a feature length film, but the only comment that filtered back from S.W.A. was that the whole idea was 'nihilistic'. I looked the word up in the dictionary and thought - oh yeah, that's how I think, I suppose. I was quite surprised to see a description of the inside of my head in a dictionary!"
"Still, it spurred me on to produce the film. I thought, I've never been called an '-istic' before - so it's gotta be art, innit?!"
"The film had to be cobbled together in dribs and drabs with old film stock and borrowed money. I don't really regret not getting the S.W.A. money -except that if the film could have been completed earlier, there's a chance that Gordon might still be alive. He died at a stage when we'd completely run out of money. He gained an enormous amount of self-respect from his involvement in the film."
Surely Nasher is not accusing the much-maligned South West Arts of MURDER? "Heaven forbid, heaven forbid, yes -whoops - no, nothing like that at all!"
One of the most charming (or should that be irritating?) aspects of 'Gordon' is that it deliberately plays on the numerous pitfalls of ultra low budget Super 8 film making: handheld camera, different film stock, 'natural' (poor) lighting, muffled dialogue and so on. These are woven, with baffling disregard for such niceties as clarity and plot development, into the film's fabric. And when I say fabric, I'm thinking of materials like hessian rather than silk!
One material which caused some very tricky problems was a piece of archaic black and white Super 8 stock (reputedly the first type ever produced) which was used to film some valuable footage of Gordon having a day out at the seaside (at Severn Beach, poor chap). Nasher: "It came back from the processors completely black. We messed around with some chemicals to try and rescue something.. We tried everything from hydrochloric acid downwards. Hydrochloric acid produced clear film which was going a bit far! It was like retrieving material from the grave - very much so with Gordon being dead. We finally got the balance right - the image we came up with a peculiar yellowy black and white. A very wishy washy splodgy sort of effect. . . " (Which works a treat, by the way).
Nasher continues: "The messiness of the quality was very much a part of the plan. I've actually re-shot some of the film off a screen to make it look worse, more grainy, more sludgy." Other technological innovations which ensure the film's 'unusual' visual appeal never drops off include 'Sludgerama' and 'Nasher-vision'. Sludgerama involves sticking a wide-angled lens on the camera - this makes the whole image go slushy, a bit like looking at the world through a large fried onion! Nashervision is more straight forward - the public screenings of the film will be projected, cinemascope style, onto an oversize screen, with the top and the bottom of the image being unceremoniously lopped off. Apart from losing the occasional head and feet, Nasher assures us, this will not affect the film's quality overmuch.

Trying to glean some sort of sense from 'Gordon's' plot is a painstaking task. Gordon, it would seem, earns a living from selling bits of famous dead people (a warning to Elvis Presley fans - you may find this film offensive). Throughout the film he is haunted by a tall thin man (Banks) who pops up in a variety of disguises. It is never made clear if Gordon is persuing Banks or vice versa. Is Gordon's past catching up with him? What is the tall thin man's intention? Is he one man, or many? Paranoid nutter or innocent victim? Does it even matter?Nasher: "I'm not really into plots. There are hundreds of interpretations but I am as disinterested by the answer as I'm intrigued by the fact that I don't know the answer." Quite so. If Nasher doesn't really know what it's all about, what chance have we got?
Why, for example, is there a crazy, illogical car chase stuck in the middle of the film? Nasher: "Uhm. . . well, the link sequence which explains why, never got shot. But what the hell; if all those Hollywood films can have car chases, why shouldn't I?" In a sense, the budgetless, timeless manner in which the film was shot has created its own structure. As we go to press a number of scenes still haven't been shot -including the ambitious opening sequence. This little cracker will (hopefully) make Orson Welles and Cecil B de Mille look like shoddy B movie directors. A camera will hover like an eagle 500 feet above the barren wastelands of Severn Beach and then shoot down at alarming rate and focus in on the figure of Gordon. How it's done? Well it's got something to do with balloons, long pieces of string and a lot of luck.
But hold on. How can Nasher still be making footage of Gordon if that good gentleman died over a year ago? "Well. . . we made a dummy of him. It's pretty realistic; you can't tell the difference at 20 yards." But isn't that in rather bad taste? "No, not in the slightest. I think Gordon would have liked the film finished by whatever means possible. Anyway, I think we're ignoring 'taste'. We're not into taste, just into making a film..."

And by hook or by crook, he's done it. Four years of begging, borrowing, conning, stealing (yes, stealing). . . and two deaths in the cast aside from Gordon himself. It's parochial surrealism on an epic scale, the sort of grandiose lunacy which makes Herzog's 'Fitzcarraldo' look like a day trip to Margate.
'Gordon' also captured a lot of the energy and talent coming out of Bath in the last few years. There's a lovely hypnotic soundtrack from two excellent local musicians, Charles Dodgeson and JJ. Reble; some rare footage of the long defunct band Interview, featuring none other than Manny (Tears for Fears) Elias; and a superbly over the top cameo from Brian Popay in his last ever appearance as Elvis fanatic and part-time grocer, Rocky Rickets.
Something for all the family? Hardly. 'Gordon - The Movie' is a difficult, often frustrating experience; but if you're looking for something different, a film which has 'CULT' stamped all over it, you need search no more.
The last words go to Paul Nachman (who else?): "I don't really care if anyone thinks it's a good or a bad film. I think a few people at least will have an unusual or enjoyable or somethingable time. I'm not trying to con people into seeing a 'normal' feature film. It's a film made with no money and that alone should make it worth watching."

Public Screenings
World Premiere.
Friday November 19th, 11 pm, Little Theatre, Bath, £2. Gaze in wonder at the stars! Brian Popay, Mick Banks, Jenny Potter and Nasher himself will arrive for the show in a chaffeur-driven Daimler! Relax in comfort as the good members of the Natural Theatre Company (dressed for the occasion in red plastic mini skirts) greet you and usher you to your seats!
Further Showings.
Saturday November 26th and Sunday 27th, 1 1 pm Europa. Cinema, adj Holiday Inn, Bristol £2.
ALL Screenings...
Will feature LIVE entertainment! Tony 'Birdman' Durant will keep you amused with his bird impressions and one man interpretations of Star Wars and the Battle of Britain. A real local eccentric, this guy. And those loveable Bath doo-woppers, The Wimptones, will have you bopping in the aisles before 'Gordon' arrives.
Tickets.
Can be bought in advance from Rival Records, Music Market, Hat and Feather, Walcot Reclamation Yard Cafe, Bilbos Bookshop and the Little Theatre (Bath); Rival Records, Music Market, Revolver, Full Marks, Virgin, Europa (Bristol). Or get them on the night.
SPECIAL OFFER!!
An exclusive offer to VENUE readers- 20 pairs of tickets for either of the Bristol screenings at £3.00 a pair! Just pop into our offices Monday to Friday between 2pm—5.30pm.

Gordon the Movie...
Where Daydreams are Nightmares,
and Death is a Way of Life...

Online for the first time ever...
Part One: the first 7 minutes.
More to come...





I posted this ages ago, but it's a bit more relevant here...
The story behind the movie, part one.
Of the story, that is, not of the movie.

"Gordon the Movie" grew out of my frustration with only ever filming documentary material.....only filming whatever happened in front of the camera, always beyond my control.....obviously I could choose the venue, and the event, and to an extent pick my shots, but always on the fly, and never with any say in the action or the content, or in deciding who did what, to whom, with what and when.
But alongside creative frustration, I had a few other problems.....for one, I was scared shitless of even beginning to attempt to organise anything or anyone, and so although the answer to my frustration was obvious.....put together a project of my own and make it into a movie.....I had another frustration to contend with....that of my own inability to overcome fears and anxieties about getting out there and actually doing it.
Of course, if I came up with a scenario of my own, quite deliberate and specific, with "I made this! " stamped all over it, yet another major fear rears it's ugly head......I'll be setting myself up to be judged......if I make a crap film everyone will know I really am crap, or even worse, make an alright film and people will know I finally pulled something off and start having expectations of me.
Oh No!.......The Horror........The Unimaginable Horror.......
And so far, I'd managed to get away with producing so little complete material on which to be judged, that I was quite safe from any of this. And when I accidentally did do something ok, like the film of the Nuclear Waste Train Ambush at Sharpness in '79, it could be put down to being a mere flash in the pan. "He'll soon get over the hump and settle back down to being crap again."
So there I was, hoist by my own, if I say so myself, not inconsiderable petard.
Safest place to be is, as always, in stasis.
Do nothing, risk nothing, remain quite safe.
Of course whilst getting nowhere.
But that's the object of the exercise, isn't it??
But in this funny old Universe of ours, things have a funny old way of turning around, so that even with the worst, the most negative intentions in the world, you can all of a sudden find yourself inadvertently being propelled screaming and shouting in the most unlikely of positive directions.
So dammit if one day shortly afterwards I wasn't out testing a new camera, running off footage around Walcot Village Hall in a cavalier, devil-may-care fashion, when out of the blue and into my frame danced one Gordon Robbins.
Gordon was in his fifties, and had been around the Walcot scene for years, doing stuff with the Arts Workshop and playing piano around the pubs. He'd even played toy piano live on stage with Bath's first punk band, "Discharge".
He was a talented but ne'er do well piano player, and liked a little more than a drop, as they say. He had only to hear a tune once in order to perform his own extraordinary version of it.
His renditions of "The Laughing Policeman" and of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" were legendary in these yer (those yer) parts.
So he and I sparred around the camera for a minute or two. I said how about doing this and he tried it out. He said he could try doing that and we tried it out. We threw things back and forth to one another, the camera acting as the focus point. I realised I'd found someone who would do what I asked them to in front of the camera, enhance it with their performance, and be happy doing so.
So I had a first element.
A character, albeit a real one, comfortable in front of the lens, but eccentric and not exactly a traditional romantic male lead.
So I started thinking....who else could I work with.....who else would consider working with me for that matter? Who was un-snotty enough to take direction from me? Who was un-snotty enough even to turn up, let alone turn up over and over again? I thought about the Natural Theatre Company stalwarts, but we're talking big egoes here, and I thought them unlikely to work ongoingly on a project of mine without ongoingly giving me problems.
Then I thought of Mick Banks, also a member of the NTC, but of a different breed entirely, and with another Theatre Group running concurrently for performing his and partner Corinne D'Cruz's material.
Mick and I had always got on well, there would be no ego battle to contend with there. So .......maybe I had two characters, well no, actually two actors, well, one character, one actor......in fact no characters, no plot, no story, just two people......basically two people who would allow me to boss them around, and who would also agree to be committed for the duration of the project, however lengthy. So something was possible, but what???
So now it's winter 1979.I have two people who have agreed to commit themselves to my will, well at least they have up to a point! But I don't have much else. A few images, ideas, snatches of dialogue, some fragmentary plot ideas, but nothing like a movie.
So I'm out for a wander around the town and it's freezing, snow on the ground and more falling.
I'm cold and wet and thoughtful as I huddle down in a shelter in Victoria Park.
I'm sort of watching people around me hurrying home in the dark, but sort of not. Definately more sort of not.
Images, ideas, memories all start to swirl around in front of me.....it's hard to distinguish one from another, remembered nightmares merge with ever present fears, a haunting gas hallucination from the dentists as a child merges with characters from a theatre production, all the more entangled with my worst moments in movies.
Gordon playing the piano becomes my own terrifying Lon Chaney in the original "Phantom of the Opera". Ralph Oswick wearing a massive rotting wedding gown is a decrepit greaving Miss Faversham in my own variation on "Great Expectations".
Mick Banks is now the terrifying plastic surgeon wheeling the restrained and horrified Rock Hudson off to the slaughter in "Seconds", and a vividly blood curdling encounter with my dead grandmother whilst tripping as a youngster merges with the recent news story regarding the kidnapping from it's grave of Charlie Chaplin's dead body.
Images of flames, blood, offal, blackness and death surround the characters, all these and many more, intertwined and interconnecting, flooding and billowing around me.......the reality of the park and it's passersby has diminished to nothing.....the vision is all encompassing.
I come to.
The park is back.
I'm frozen, but I have my movie.
There are some big fat gaps, but it's there.....I know it, I just watched it.
The directors first cut.
Always the deepest, as they say.
I realise that I have to start shooting immediately, otherwise the vision and it's feeling of being translateable onto film will fade.
I also realise that although I have lots of middle bits, and an ending, I am short of a beginning.
So I fix a day, and decide that the following Wednesday, I will start shooting.
And first things first, I'll start with the end.
First.
That way at least I always have an end.
Which has to be a good start. I think.
So now for the horrors of actually organising something......what if this? what if that? what if no-one takes me seriously? what if no-one turns up?The ending is based on a terrifying experience I had many years before, whilst still suffering the aftermath of excessive longterm LSD usage, an experience involving Lon Chaney as The Phantom of the Opera.
Chaney's image in the 1920's silent classic had terrified me from being a child. (It still does, I shudder as I write this now!).
So much so that I'd always avoided watching the film on the basis that if just the still image did my head in, seeing the movie would probably finish me off completely.
So it's 1973 and I'm staying up all night for a mammoth editing session at Bath Film Unit's HQ behind Great Pulteney Street, all alone but for some cold takeaway, as was my wont.
Somebody has kindly left me a roll of unknown ancient silent movie footage and an equally ancient projector, so I can scan through it for amusement when I need a break from editing later on. And about four in the morning, with a hangover and a cold chicken and mushroom pie lodged firmly, I proceed to run the mystery reel.
Oh what fun, I exclaim. Very dim black and white. Lots of flicker. Trailers....trailers for westerns from the twenties. Oh and trailers for dramas from the twenties.
Oh what joy, and, oh, something a little more substantial than a trailer, we're drifting slowly towards, what is that?.....the images projected by the 1930's home movie projector are none too clear.....yes, it's a massive piano, no, a theatre organ, and there's somebody there with their back to me, wearing a cloak, playing the thing, now we're closer............at this point, although I'd never seen the film, the hairs on the back of my neck clearly recognise both the movie and the actor, and they know exactly what's going to happen next..............as the camera closes in behind the figure, Lon Chaney, the Phantom of the Opera, for it is he, turns slowly round to camera and I'm face to face with the most terrifying image I've ever avoided in my whole life.
All the blood drains from my body....there's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
I am not a happy bunny.
So this, according to my park hallucination, is my ending.
Easy.
Nothing to it.
Make a list.
Tick things off.
Cameraman? Me.
Sound man? Me.
Lighting man? Guess who.
Grand piano? Walcot Village Hall has a baby one.
The hall is available next Wednesday afternoon.
Wheelchair for the slow tracking shot? The Red Cross have one available for hire.
Someone to push it? Kitty from the Arts Workshop's shop agrees to push me in it.
The Pianist/Phantom? Gordon is available....( by now, I'm so efficient that I actually checked that one first.)
So Wednesday comes....I'm in a state of disbelief.....all the elements are there.
Everyone and everything arrives.
I station the props and set up the lighting.
I already know which piece of music, I hallucinated that too. It's the Third Man theme.
We take our start positions. Gordon begins to play.
The wheelchair borne camera tracks slowly along the floor, towards Gordon's back.
With a tungsten bright movie light pointing directly towards camera from beyond Gordon, in camera he is barely a silhouette, the white light flashing around him with each movement of his head and body, until as we track in closer and closer towards him, he abruptly stops playing the Third Man theme and turns slowly to camera.
We are now in close up as he throws his head back and starts to laugh.
With my prompting, the laughter becomes ever more maniacal, as he whoops and cackles to camera.
I signal to him to tip his head back slightly and keep laughing.
He does so.
The light flashes through between his jaws.
That image became the poster for the movie. We do one more take, but use the first.
We've used up nearly a whole 3 minute roll!
Damn the expense!
And I know the heavily outdated stock will overexpose the image like mad, giving Gordon an enormous flashing cloud sized halo.
Perfect.
I have my revenge.
I've made the Phantom of the Opera my own.

More to come.
Don't hold your breath.