The screenwriter Dalton Trumbo worked at night, naked, in the bathtub, cigarette in his mouth, wine by his side, parrot (a present from Kirk Douglas) nibbling his ear, manual typewriter balanced on a tray atop the tub. It is an image of almost impossible glamour and promise. To carry off this level of eccentricity you need to be a real genius.
In the computer age people no longer work this way. If Trumbo’s tray cracked, he risked serious damage to his upper thighs; if you attempt to recreate such a setup with a laptop, you’re flirting with death – not to mention a substantial electrics bill.
Yet the romance of the ribbon remains. Increasingly, people – not just hipsters – are drawn towards luddite equipment, be it Polaroid cameras or vinyl record players or Bakelite Olivettis. Last weekend, a regular-looking sports reporter was spotted in the press box at an American football match working away on a typewriter. He used the TV timeouts to do his Tipp-Ex corrections.
Earlier this month, the first batch of Qwerkywriters – typewriter-inspired Bluetooth mechanical keyboards – were shipped to their Kickstarter backers. These gadgets ($350) enable you to place your tablet where the paper ought to go and clatter away happily beneath. They are currently out of stock until the spring.
Why the upsurge? Well, just as the internet seemed to have defeated typewriters, there’s something bewitchingly authentic about a page that’s been physically created - regardless of its actual import or quality. With a Qwerkywriter, even those resigned to digital communication can at least feel their aesthetic sensibilities aren’t compromised.
And this is also why typewriters are all over the movies at the moment, especially those real-life stories keen to show they’re telling it to us straight. Truth – about 60 Minutes’ struggles to verify a story about George W Bush dodging Vietnam service – involves lengthy discussion of mid-century military typewriters. Black Mass, about the Boston gangster Whitey Bulger, hinges, in the final reel, on one detective’s late-night clacking.
And, of course, there’s the forthcoming biopic of Trumbo, which recasts the African grey as a cockatiel, but otherwise seems to stick pretty close to the facts. For its poster, the producers haven’t gone for the full bathtub shot. No need. Just Bryan Cranston, clothed, with ciggie and scotch and a really big Underwood. Sold.
