Danny's sweater in "The Shining" was a real thing

Many people count The Shining among their favorite horror films, and for some like me part of the joy in loving The Shining is obsessing over the many hyperspecific details, intentional or not, that Stanley Kubrick wove into his masterpiece interpretation of Stephen King's amazing novel.

As just one example, did you know there's an 800,000-word online guide by Eye Scream (Joseph "Joe" Daniel Girard) to all of the artwork that appears on screen during The Shining? The website is so labyrinthian that I suppose you could start either here ... or here. Or anywhere, and then circle round and round for more Kubrick analysis and connections. Don't go there expecting to spend only five minutes. You won't escape the hedge maze that easily. I especially like pondering the Alex Colville connections. (See also Idyllopus Press/Juli Kearns on that topic.)

Then there are the mind-bending analyses of mstrmnd's Physical Cosmologies of The Shining, which I mentioned way the heck back in June 2011. The links I posted then are now deader than Scatman Crothers' character at the end of the movie. But there's an Internet Archive link (bless those folks) that seems to have saved mstrmnd's musings for posterity. I may also still have the voluminous original printouts in an envelope somewhere. Can neither confirm nor deny.

All of which is a longwinded introduction to Danny Torrance's sweater.

At a key point in the film, Danny is shown wearing a blue sweater featuring an Apollo 11 rocket. That rocket carried the astronauts who first landed on the moon in 1969. Many suspect the sweater is Kubrick's sly nod to the ridiculous conspiracy theory, which emerged in the mid-1970s, that he assisted with (or even "directed") pre-recorded moon-landing footage shot in a movie studio. They believe we have never landed on the moon. It's not the only playful jab in The Shining from Kubrick toward the conspiracy loons, Screen Rant notes. 

Mostly, though, I just think the sweater is awesome. And it reminds me of how much I love the movie.

And it was a real thing, not something concocted solely for the film.

It's Lister N2163 Space Age and was published as a knitting pamphlet in 1970 by Lister & Co. in the United Kingdom. While there are a lot of knockoffs due to The Shining's popularity, Katherine Hajer wrote in 2021 about knitting an Apollo 11 sweater from the original specifications.

It's too hot for sweaters in Arizona, even in the winter. So when there was a Spook-O-Rama showing of The Shining last December in Tempe, I opted for a T-shirt version of Danny's outfit and tried to get the wide-collared underneath shirt correct, too. The hair was another matter, and I didn't even try.

Oliver gets into the Halloween spirit

I walked away from my computer for just a couple minutes and Oliver (son of Mamacita) managed to (1) step on the exact right keys to open a spooky illustration and then (2) lay down on the keyboard in a very photogenic way that highlighted himself and the skull he summoned. Full credit to Joan for snapping the photo when they spotted him.

Oliver knows how to get into the Halloween spirit! The illustration on the screen is "All Is Vanity," a minorly famous piece of artwork done by Charles Allan Gilbert in 1892. Here's the full illustration:

As Wikipedia notes: "The drawing employs a double image (or visual pun) in which the scene of a woman admiring herself in a mirror of her vanity table, when viewed from a distance, appears to be a human skull. The title is also a pun, as this type of dressing-table is also known as a vanity."

In the 1974 horror movie The House on Skull Mountain, director Ron Honthaner paid homage to the illustration with this creative shot: 

Michael Betancourt wrote a fascinating, in-depth analysis of the shot for Bright Lights Film Journal in 2013, delving into how the shot in the film is a reversal of the illustration and how that applies to the movie's racial subtext. The movie itself is not great, but Betancourt's piece is absolutely worth a read.

VHS tapes are improbably popular again, with horror leading the way

Late last November, Ashar and I went to a horror convention in Mesa called A Christmas to Dismember. It was very cool. There were minor genre celebrities signing autographs, you could get your picture taken with Krampus (some people even brought their dogs) and there was a whole hearse-and-coffin setup from Phantasm outside. 

I made one impulse purchase. There was a booth selling VHS tapes and I couldn't resist the box art on two old horror movies: 1946's Shock, starring Vincent Price, (which I'd never heard of!) and the 1941 horror comedy King of the Zombies (which I'd never seen).

Of course, I still couldn't watch them. We have a blu-ray player and a couple of streaming services, but haven't had a VCR connected to our television for at least 12 years, if not longer. Eventually I was able to track down DVD versions of both films, and I was not disappointed. Shock has an entertaining early villainous role for Price. And King of the Zombies, while a bit hokey and uneven, is an interesting entry in the corpus of zombie films and is at its best when Mantan Moreland and his Black co-stars (including Marguerite Whitten and Madame Sul-Te-Wan) are on the screen.

And now I have two nifty VHS boxes to showcase on a shelf, which, yes, is the exact opposite of my slow-moving downsizing goals. I still have no VCR and no plans to get a VCR, so what the hell am I doing with VHS tapes in 2025? I unloaded my videocassette tapes years and years ago, when they were taking up significant space and were already barreling toward being phased out.¹

So what's with the new boom in old tapes?

The VHS revival, spurred by collectors and a new generation of enthusiasts, began pretty quickly on the heels of the great VHS dumping of roughly 2000 to 2010, when DVD became the dominant format.

I hate to promote The Washington Post these days, but an article by Reis Thebault in December 2023 summed up the dynamics of the rise of the "tapeheads": 

"A swirl of societal forces has made the moment ripe for this unlikely rebirth: A booming nostalgia economy that was supercharged during the pandemic, fueling skyrocketing sales of all things retro; mounting fatigue with increasingly costly subscription services; and a growing disillusionment with the algorithms that mediate so much of modern life in favor of unexpected human connections."

There are numerous aspects to this fervor for tape, drawing people in from a wide array of directions. Some people truly like the "VHS aesthetic" of fuzz, glitches and less than perfect video presentation. Some filmmakers release their new movies on VHS. Websites such as Lunchmeat are thriving. Zines and VHS-themed events have helped build momentum.  

At our Bookmans Entertainment Exchange stores here in Arizona, used VHS tapes are taking up more prominent spaces at the front of stores. I took these snapshots at a Tucson Bookmans in early July.

The horror genre is very well-represented in those in-store displays. Horror has been a main driver for the VHS revival and is one of the hottest and most expensive markets. Some people seek out their favorite films; some chase the scarcest titles in their most limited releases; some collect solely for the box art; some relish boxes and tapes still covered with video rental store or library stickers, while others want pristine tapes that are still shrinkwrapped. And some collectors target gory straight-to-video releases that few people have ever heard of — and even fewer have seen.

Ashar, dipping his toe into the VHS marketplace this month, just acquired a tape of 1959's The House on Haunted Hill, one of his favorite films. (And one of my favorites, too.) It will be added to his shelf decorations.

For an article this month on Back Market, Thomas Hobbs interviewed Lunchmeat's Josh Schafer, who said: "A lot of horror movies, especially the more low budget fare, just feel better on VHS. Not everything has to be super hi-def. Sometimes it’s okay to blur the world a little bit, because if things look too real it takes you out of the cinematic world.”

Maybe I should collect all of my childhood horror favorites on VHS. Then set up an old-school television with a VHS player and chase that vibe of watching horror movies on dark nights as a kid in Clayton and Montoursville. It could be a lot of fun. But the true horror might end up being how much disposable income I spend chasing the past, when I could sit on the couch next to my cats and watch a big-screen, crystal-clear version of Suspiria, Kwaidan or, yes, even the original Night of the Living Dead. Nostalgia is fun, but there are only so many rabbit holes I can go down.

Footnote

1. I deeply regret, though, that I got rid of all my MTS3K and St. Elsewhere VHS tapes, plus some other stuff that had been taped off TV. If nothing else, there's a substantial market now for old tapes that include commercials, bumpers, news updates and other record-from-TV content. Add those tapes to the list of ephemera I wish I still had, if only because I could have made some nice coin from selling them now on eBay.

Halloween-themed cover of October 1972 Square Dancing magazine

Square Dancing (originally titled Sets in Order) was the official magazine of the Sets in Order American Square Dance Society. It was published from 1948 to 1985, for a total of 444 issues. It's a magazine that, by definition, leaned more into squareness than spookiness, but I appreciate that its publishers had some fun by putting a skeleton on the orange cover of this October 1972 issue.

Inside, however, there's only one more nod to the holiday: the page shown below with two Halloween-themed cartoons. The rest of the 78-page issue is filled with square dancing news and tips, plus a robust number of advertisements. It's quite impressive how much interest and money there used to be in this recreational pasttime; I even had square dancing lessons as part of my curriculum at C.E. McCall Middle School in central Pennsylvania in the early 1980s. 

Some of the tidbits inside this issue:

• A report that square dancers helped to raise relief funds for those affected by the June 1972 flood in Rapid City, South Dakota, and that efforts had just begun to raise relief funds for Pennsylvania victims of Hurricane Agnes.
• An article on the history of square dancing being depicted in movies.
• A long directory of square dancing youth groups across the nation, including one here in Phoenix, Arizona.
• An article on the business side of calling.
• Sewing suggestions for women's square dancing outfits.
• News of square dancing from such farflung locations as the Panama Canal Zone and Saudi Arabia (the Dhahran Hoedowners, who I think were also called the Arabian Hoedowners).
• Many advertisements for square dancing records, outfits, shoes and sound equipment.
• A list of upcoming conventions and events, including the 14th annual WASCA Spring Festival ("Stairway to the Stars") at the Sheraton Park Hotel &  Motor Inn. The event was slated for March 8-10, 1973.

Digital versions of Sets in Order/Square Dancing magazine are available to read at this link, a wonderful online resource.