Central America: Men with Guns

I loved Men with Guns. It is a beautifully crafted film: music, cinematography, acting, directing, and the subject—everything. I like the idea that the locale is not named: though the reviews say the purpose is to refrain from indicting anyone, my reaction is that it indicts everyone.

The film mainly shows a rural population—in contrast to Missing and The Official Story. The most salient feature is a highly xenophobic society. The citizens are extremely wary of strangers, paranoid, frightened, yet resigned to the violence that characterizes their everyday lives. Everyone has a story of death and loss. Citizens hide or they are on the run. Random violence is the norm. Like the title, men with guns wield all the power and there is little that can be done to fight them. The most revealing scene is when a village is ordered to kill six of its own members, and they comply; neighbor killing neighbor as per an order from the army (read: men with guns). The villagers briefly discuss an alternative solution (running away) but return to the conclusion that killing each other is best. Failing to do so means death to everyone, so the six are sacrificed.

Like Missing and The Official Story, violence is random and ongoing. But in the aforementioned films, the central players knew who the enemy was, the forces responsible, and why the violence broke out. In Men With Guns, no one knows why the violence rains down upon them. These are rural populations (Coffee people, Salt People, Sugar people) and they have no understanding of the forces behind the large-sale slaughter of their country man. The perpetrators are simply ……….men with guns.

Dr. Humberto Fuentes is an idealistic, naive man. Like Alicia in The Official Story, he has little knowledge of the instability and violence that plague the country. As he journeys through the countryside—encountering genocides, army deserters, a fallen priest, a rape victim, and a boy orphaned by violence, his naiveté dissolves. Still, he doesn’t seem to become bitter. On the surface, this is a film about a man who acquires self-knowledge from others; lost innocence and lost illusions. But most importantly, it reflects the consequences of America’s (repeated) support of counterinsurgency forces that enable the violence and oppression in Central and South American countries to prevail.

Chile: Missing

I enjoyed Missing. I thought it was interesting subject and the filmmakers turned it into a fairly suspenseful movie. The film was well-made and well-acted.

The director presents Chile functioning under martial law in the immediate wake of a government overthrow. Violence is random and ongoing. Bodies are scattered around the city. The streets are lined with armed military personnel and armed military vehicles. Citizens are picked out and questioned on a whim. Women are told they can no longer wear slacks, but must wear dresses and skirts. A curfew has been instituted and deadly force is used to enforce it. Phone lines are down. Transportation out of Chile is spotty if not impossible. Overall, it's is an environment of fear, violence and uncertainty.

Hr. Harmon’s world view changes dramatically over the course of the film. Early in the film, Mr. Horman seems to have faith in American institutions.  He is convinced that his idealistic, leftist son and daughter-in-law have gotten themselves into some kind of trouble, and he has to fly to Chile to sort out their messes. His son’s arrest seems irritating to him. He believes there has been a misunderstanding, but that everything will be done to correct it and everything will be fine. As long as a person is respectable, god fearing, and polite —all things will be restored to harmony. He believes in justice and due process. Mr. Horman believes what American officials tell him. He does not question their authority.

Ironically he accuses his jaded, quarrelsome, critical daughter-in-law (she had two weeks of run- around prior to her father-in-law’s arrival) of being uncooperative and idealistic. Who’s the idealist? By film’s end, Mr. Horman is resigned to her attitude—actually admires her after his experiences and observations.

By mid-film and to the end, Mr. Horman is no longer polite. His own sense of idealism has been shattered by the details—or lack of details and a few outright lies is fed by American officials. His faith in institutions, due process, and justice is shattered, though the final collapse occurring off screen when his lawsuit against American officials he deems responsible for his son’s death is dismissed.

The filmmaker portrayed the US as rather shady and reticent; less than forthcoming—which is how I interpreted it. American officials appear cooperative, but they do not offer much information. My interpretation is that the Americans were something like an organized crime ring, a spin machine. Mr. Horman is given the run-around—blanket “we don’t know” or “if we can’t find him that he’s not here” statements. Later in the film, Mr. Horman is given contradictory information, and what seemed to be an outright well-conceived lie. It definitely looks like a cover-up. At the film’s end, even as the truth came to light (his son’s body actually was there—and he’s dead), the director does not attempt to redeem American officials. When the Hormans are asked for transport fees associated with the body, the American officials insensitively demand the money up front, at that very moment, in an airport coffee bistro.

Argentina: The Official Story

I liked Official Story, and I agree with the critics that the film has a dark, claustrophobic feel to it. Though I liked the film, it made me feel smothered and warm; kind of like being over-blanketed and sweaty. The film is somewhat boring but it makes its point: Argentina was being governed by a corrupt regime and many suffered losses, with much of its population burying its head in the sand.It difficult to distinguish particulars about Argentine society because the film is mostly hemmed into closed indoor spaces with a lot of close-up camera shots. Nevertheless, the viewer observed a rather complacent society; a society that

did not ask a lot of questions. Not only did Argentine society seem complacent, but was also in denial—a “what I don’t know can’t hurt me” attitude. Since the regime is on the brink of falling—fear is beginning to break out. Paranoia and desperation are felt by the regime’s powerbrokers. Public demonstrations are dramatized. The education system teaches a biased history. Argentina’s youth is being indoctrinated into the regime’s principles. We learn there are dire consequences for those who ask questions or disagree with the current regime: torture, disappearances, kidnapping, and death. We learn that the offspring of subversives have been handed over and adopted out to the regime’s loyal members—thus the thrust of the story. Overall, we have society characterized by a varied mix of complacency, paranoia, desperation, and anger. 

The world view of the main character changes over time as she learns more and more about her child’s origins, her husband’s business affairs, and her country’s corruption. Where she was once comfortably ensconced in an affluent, conservative  lifestyle—herself a history teacher ironically enough—she  learns the world around her, to include her husband, is corrupt. She discovers that she teaches history that is full of holes and skewed, the adoption of her daughter was brokered from death and loss, and her husband negotiates shady financial deals on behalf of a corrupt government. Most importantly, she discovers that she is an actor, a player, within a large-scale scheme of violence, death, and vice. And she feels complicit mainly because she is complicit. I’d like to point out that there is nothing “business as usual” about being handed a baby with little or no explanation of its origins. If someone handed me a kitten, I’d have significant questions: Where is its mother? Where did you find it? Is there anything wrong with it? In other words, I’m not really sympathetic to the idea that Alicia is totally innocent. How can anyone not ask questions about a baby? But that’s the point of the film: Argentina’s complacency and denial transforming into reality.

Somalia: Black Hawk Down

I was surprised that I liked Black Hawk Down as much as I did. I began viewing the film with much bias after reading the reviews ahead of time. I anticipated a not-so-subtle propaganda film—flag waving, Islam bashing, and maudlin American patriotism.  I am a staunch critic of the Bush dynasty—the engineers of Somalia mission. If given the opportunity, I’m stepping right up to have my ticket punched. Reviews of the film were varied, probably much of the divergence due to political leanings. I’m simply going to review the film, pointing out how my points differ from ones provided for our reading.

Is Black Hawk Down a propaganda film—a product of the post 9-11 hoopla machine? Of course it is, but it’s no guiltier of celebrating or underscoring heroic American military involvement than any other “militainment” films that came before it. Propaganda films are not new to American audiences. During WWI, Hollywood offered titles that included Sergent York, 13 Men and a Gun, The Red Baron, and Two Minutes of Silence. WWII gave us Mrs. Miniver, Foreign Correspondent, and Chaplin’s The Great Dictator. The list lengthens as American military history unfolded: Korea, Vietnam, Operation Desert Storm, Somalia, and most recently—Operation Rumsfeld’s Hubris in Iraq. Hollywood realized a long time ago that there is money to be made by dramatizing war. There is nothing new under the camera’s eye.

Larry Chin asserts that our involvement in Somalia was based on a lie, and therefore the film is a lie. He further asserts that Black Hawk Down is the government’s carefully concocted propaganda engineered to stir up our inner war-monger. Mr. Chin: let’s “set things straight” for you. Are you so idealistic (read: stupid) that you subscribe to a belief that the Department of Defense’s machinations are, always have been, and should be perfectly noble? Mr. Smith does not go to Washington—power and money do. The idea, nay, the fact that government pulls the wool over eyes isn’t new nor a singular, magical revelation—so what’s your point? Lie or no, the film is what it is.

                        So what’s the point of this film? Black Hawk Down is a film about heroes without victory, heroes in defeat. Since the film precedes the debacle in Iraq (Operation Flimsy Pretext), we might say the film is more about our unsound involvement in Viet Nam or Operation Oil Profits (Gulf War I) or any other badly conceived, poorly executed shoot-from-the hip military operation in the post WWII era. If the film has any purpose at all, it’s to reveal that American foreign policy isn’t necessarily sound, we don’t always get it right, but that the men and women on the ground should not be criticized for it. We must recognize and applaud their instincts, thorough training, and courage that saved the day—not to mention their asses. It’s what the Marines mean when they preach “improvise, overcome, adapt.” American film audiences are not watching movies to become better policy makers. We’re there to be entertained.

I am hard pressed to believe that the film attempts to glorify America. The film does not offer flattering images; I am reluctant to invest in the idea that the director is conveying a statement that our presence Somalia was an “imperialist intervention, a noble incident of grand significance.” Hardly. What the film reveals is bad military intelligence and poor planning, along with military leadership at a loss as to what to do next. We see American soldiers shooting willy-nilly into crowds and killing civilians—women no less. The fact that we are getting  our asses kicked is hard to miss. But isn’t that the point?

Personally, I think the directors were channeling and likening the heroes in defeat on the grounds of the World Trade Center with the heroes in defeat on the ground in Somalia. Basically, it was about invigorating our sense of victimization. We did that a lot immediately following the 9-11 attacks.

Clearly, Larry Chin discounts what the film truly showcases: individuals responding to and surviving a worst case scenario. I think the film redeems the soldier on the ground executing orders that require a relinquishment of sanity and morality. Now, most might criticize that, but I would ask those individuals, namely Mr. Chin, “Where you there? What would you have done?” I’d also like to point out that military misconduct—if any—is the stuff of military tribunals, not candy-assed painty-waist journalist.

            Does the film make a point? Yes, as stated before, the film is about heroes in defeat; the usual hero manufacture fare. But passed that, overall, it I think it’s a shallow, two-dimensional blockbuster, shoot ‘em up vehicle designed to capitalize on the early 2002, post 9-11 American climate.  Thus, it’s about profits. It’s about box office draw. Remember, it was a tense time in American history. American audiences were tense and Black Hawk Down’s timing assured high dollar box office returns. Victimized Americans were ripe to shell out ticket and popcorn money with Somalia as the perfect venue. We were a captive audience, recent victims of the 9-11 attacks. At that time, we really did not a face or a name to blame for 9-11, but Hollywood gave America a bad guy—at least for a couple of hours. Who cares about historical accuracy—just give the audience something to cheer about. As I have said so often, all film is artifice. If the viewer wants a true account of Mogadishu, then Google it. How many historical films really are accurate? Ridley Scott and Jeff Bruckheimer are not the first to take artistic license. They won’t be the last.

Bottom line, the release of Black Hawk Down was all about the money— but just about everything coming out of Hollywood is. The Mogadishu debacle offered a storyline that was just too irresistible to ignore. It’s the perfect premise for a big-screen special-effects driven film with ancillary opportunities for graphic gore and schlocky scripting the likes of “in the heat of battle, politics go out the window” and “Hey—who’s hungry?’ 

The way Larry Chin converts innocuous statements into inflammatory proclamations  is absolutely ridiculous. One might manufacture an infinite set of subtexts from any line from any movie ever made. More often than not, the screen play—the actual dialogue in blockbuster films, is merely filler between jerky storyline advances and special effects. America laps this stuff up. Why do film critics assume a thoughtful, informed audience comprised of diction teachers, rhetoricians, and grammarians? Why do film critics assume a contemplative audience at all?

Of course the Somalians are portrayed as “crazy black Islamists.” They are presented to the audience as “the enemy”. Unless a director employs a conspicuous device to distinguish Vice (black extremist, Aryan goose-stepping Nazi, long-coated Soviets, black hats, the fat racist southern Sheriff) from Virtue (neatly uniformed FBI agents, white hats, white guys) American audiences really aren’t going to “get it.” In other words, a director utilizes visual devices to convey a story. Directors frequently resort to caricature.

Larry Chin presents the statement that Black Hawk Down is dangerous and those who love the film are dangerous. That reeks of Tipper Gore priggishness. The film isn’t any more dangerous than an Eminem CD. In fact, there are far more dangerous media out there—i.e. The Fox News Channel (“We distort, you comply”). The film doesn’t pretend to be anything else but a film. Fox News actually claims to be credible.

For Mr. Chin, I’ll leave you with this: here’s an AK-47, a band of journalists, and a hostile city with the entire populace trying to kill you. Get in there, and go at it—let’s see how you do. And if you survive the day, tell us about it. Oh, and please be prepared to answer for every move you made while on the streets.  And if you can, tell us the truth.

Chin, Larry. “Black Hawk Down: Hollywood drags bloody corpse of truth across movie screens.” http://www.uncg.edu/-jwjones/world/reado]ing/rvwsbhdown.html . Accessed 15 July 2012.

South Africa: A Dry White Season

I thought the film was quiet and poignant, without guile, pretense, or special effects.  It presented the facts and social norms of South African Aparthied clearly.



Overall, there was a profoundly unequal distribution of wealth, power, and opportunity. The film reveals obvious inequalities between blacks and whites in South Africa. The norms include lack of individual and group power within black populations. The white population considered themselves responsible for the creation and maintenance of anything good and prosperous in the country. The whites seemed entitled to their superiority due their race and European origins. Blacks worked menial low or no skilled jobs while whites were presented as teachers, lawyers, and police officials. Whites perceived blacks as capable of spontaneous and random violence, savage animals with no self-control. They could not understand why blacks were incapable of perceiving themselves as anything but savages and why they could not accept their inferiority as a fundamental truth.  Whites were the decision-makers and power brokers. Blacks had no civil rights or liberties, often arrested and tortured on drummed up charges. Questioning Apartheid almost always meant arrest, imprisonment, torture, and possible death.  Blacks were told where to live and where to go to school.  The film showed the striking contrast been the affluent white neighborhoods versus the poverty stricken environs of the blacks.

Mr. de Toit’s worldview changed dramatically over the course of the film. In the beginning, we see that Mr. De Toit  never second guessed society’s views and institutions He seemed to think the staus quo was right and true. But after experiencing the prevailing injustices of Aparthied close-up, through events unfolding within his own household, he was transformed from a comfortble sense of white entitlement to civil rights advocacy --at the risk of his relationships, his life, and the lives of his loved ones. Not only did his views of segregation change, but his opinion and view of his fellow whites changed as well,  to include his perception of self. Thus, transformations permeated self, society, the nation, and prospects for the future of all South Africans. 

Rwanda: Sometimes in April

I chose to view Sometimes in April because I already viewed Hotel Rwanda. Though Hotel  Rwanda is a great film, its focus is too narrow with the horrifying events of the Rwandan genocide kept somewhat the background. Hotel Rwanda does not reveal the day to day struggle of the man on the street. The true horror of Rwanda is a bit glossed over in the film. The reason for that, perhaps, was to make the film viewable, digestible and sterile enough for American audiences who prefer popcorn Indian Jones blockbusters and mind numbing TV programming. Most Americans have probably never heard of Rwanda. Some may consider the genocide as nothing more than a vigorous housecleaning.

Sometimes in April left me more than stunned. I was flabbergasted and speechless. To comprehend an average of 8500 deaths per day is more than what can be imagined. Sometimes in April does not spare the audience of the rapes, slaughters, body heaps, and infanticides. The film is not easy to watch.

From the film we discern that Hutu feel hatred and resentment towards the Tsotsi. The resentment is a consequence of the Belgian colonists’ beliefs and imposition of those beliefs that Tsotsi (minority population) is a superior race of African; above the Hutu (majority population). When the Belgians left, the angry Hutu sought vindication and vengence, resorting to violence to assert their power. Since that time, the racial violence has unfolded many times throughout Rwandan history.

In the film, Hutu and Tsotsi relations are obviously strained. There is a feeling of apprehension. When the Rwandan president's plane is shot down by rebel forces, all hell breaks out—the violence gets underway. The genocide was fast, sweeping and merciless. No class, gender, or lifestage was spared. If you were Tsotsi, you were dead. Popular participation was recruited thru radio broadcasts and propaganda. Warlords, militia,  and farmers “went to work” each day with the goal of killing Tsotsi in mind.

Sometimes in April implicates the international community for their failure to respond. As the film shows, Rwanda doesn’t have any marketable extractive resources and the United States has no interests there. Thus, the international response was minimal; only Americans and Europeans were evacuated. The film illustrates the prevailing American perception that it was just Africans killing Africans, a sentiment fueled by recent memories of the Somalian conflict and our failed mission there.

It’s hard to observe any clear “norms” in the film because the film’s focus is  the 100 days of genocide. It is observed that the population was required to carry ID cards to indicate one’s race: Hutu or Tsotsi. I observed fairly nice middle-class neighborhoods, good schools, happy kids, friendly neighbors. With the exception of the tension and uncertainty among the film’s characters, the  few minutes of film before the genocide resembled any middle-class neighborhood anywhere. We heard of the characters’  historical consciousness; they had already suffered violence and loss of family members in previous violent outbreaks. We also watched husbands packing up kids and wives while they remained at home to defend.

Palestine: Paradise Now

I think Paradise Now is an extremely important film. It represents a credible, sincere voice for the Palestinian people and their struggles, one that was recognized on platforms the likes of the Golden Globe and Academy Awards. Granted, these aren’t powerful entities, nor are they policy making bodies, but nonetheless, they are vehicles for an important film such as Paradise Now to capture the attention of an international audience.

Palestinian life is bleak. Unemployment runs rampant. Resources are controlled and doled out by Israeli settlers. Palestinians are cordoned off like subclass citizens, segregated from the Israelis. Hatred for the Israelis is extreme—militant. Any Palestinian who advocates peace between groups is considered a traitor and subject to execution.  The removal or elimination of Israeli settlers is foremost in Palestinian thought.

Palestinians live in bombed out, graffiti’d, filthy environs. The Isrealis, in contrast, live among high rises and vacation resort -like conditions. The Palestinians exist each day in lack and poverty. Israelis lead pretty comfortable middle to upper class lives.

Unemployment, anger, and frustrattion with a population that has nothing to lose is a recipe for violence. Thus, acts of terrorism are social norms in Palestinian life. The Palestinians have no other weapon to wield against the Israeli settlers except their bodies, their lives. Hamas selects its suicide bomber candidates and the candidates are honored to oblige. To refuse the honor is to be a coward, possibly a traitor.

Thus, Paradise Now is a film that traces the lives of two young male suicide bomber candidates, and their preparation and execution of an attack. My interpretation of the film's ending is that the attack occurred, though we don’t see it. But the direction of the ending was unambiguous: the suicide bomber appeared unequivocally invested in his task, and totally justified in executing it. The scene was unapologetic. My conclusion is the Palestinian people will continue to fight (as well they should, in my opinion) and the violence will never end.

Does terrorism work? Well, yes—sort of. It drains resources. It puts a dent in a system’s funds and opportunities—so yes, there is some victory and purpose to it.  I don’t think it’s anyone place to make value judgments for the Palestinians. It is not fair to criticize or condemn since we have no common frame of reference.

Iran: Zinat

I think the film is a convincing glimpse into Iranian village life. I enjoyed it because it was without fanfare, perfect actresses, rock star looking male counterparts, unrealistic sets, and overdone costumes. The film felt authentic and sincere. I was shocked to later discover it ran about 2 hours. I was completely invested in this quiet little film. The subtitles weren’t translated into English very well, but good enough to convey the story.

The film shows us that Iran is a male-dominated society. Fathers and husbands decide the fate of women in the family unit. Men work outside the home and are free to move about the city.  Their needs come before the needs of women. Women seem to be mostly confined to domestic spheres.

The life experiences of women are confined to growing up within a male-dominated childhood home only to marry into and live in another male-dominated home. Marrying, having children and housekeeping is the scope and limit of opportunities for women. They have no input into their outcomes. Their opinion may or may not be factored into decision making. A woman’s identity is her father’s then later her husband’s. To behave in a contrary way is a show of disloyalty and disobedience. On many levels, women are treated like children.

What perplexed me was the wedding scene: how can an Iranian marriage be cause for women to celebrate? Getting married means a lifetime of servitude and subservience. We also observe that Zinat should be relieved and comforted by the presence of a suitor and possible future husband (she’s not). But that was life for Iranian women after the revolution.

The film does not convey what kinds of sweeping political, ideological, or religious changes are underway. Zinat is a film that focuses on changes at the individual/personal/family level—though it highlights a much larger issue. Basically, an Iranian husband learns that his wife’s worth far exceeds the conventional roles of servant and brood mare. Obviously, the film’s ending  is a both a lesson and a warning to Iranian audiences that social change—to wit, women’s rights, are valid and their ontributions valuable.

Soviet Union: Enemy at the Gates

I agree with Mr. Cheshire’s general assessment that Enemy at the Gates is a “large-scale popcorn movie” –good guys, bad guys, battle scenes, blood, guts, gore, and tobacco use. But that’s about where our consensus ends. Mr. Cheshire has obviously missed the whole point of the movie. In fact, if Mr. Cheshire is going to throw accusations at his peers the likes of “faux critics” then he can start squarely with himself.

Despite Mr. Cheshire’s opinion, I don’t think Enemy at the Gates is a propaganda piece, nor is it an endorsement, tribute or celebration of Soviet communism. In fact, the film gently and tastefully conveys Soviet communism as a flawed and futile system.  During the last fifteen or twenty minutes of the film, Commissar Danilov asserts there will always be inequalities (“rich in love, poor in love”), therefore concluding that a communist utopia can never be achieved, will never exist. Earlier in the film, we see the Soviet army as badly equipped and poorly prepared; the film clearly depicts that. We observe that every other soldier is issued a weapon, with his mate to remain behind him to retrieve the weapon if the front man goes down. Desertion meant immediate, on-the-spot execution. None of these images are flattering. There is no paean to Soviet leadership in this film.

Nevertheless, the battle of Stalingrad would and did decide the fate of the world . What’s the crime in characterizing Soviet soldiers as “good guys”? The Soviet army earned that designation by holding the eastern front under brutal conditions while effectively stopping and defeating the German army. Yes, we all agree that Joseph Stalin was a vicious butcher, and an ironfisted fascist who murdered and imprisoned his citizens. However, in the winter of 1942-1943, the men and women on the ground in Stalingrad saved the world. The idiot who reviewed Enemy at the Gates fails to understand that.

Mr. Cheshire criticizes the film as insincere “Europudding” –that is to say, another quasi-pan-European project that produces insincere film. Mr. Cheshire misplaces this term, and rather clumsily. Well, it just so happens that WWII was also “Europudding.” The nationalities that collaborated on the making of Enemy at the Gates were major players in the World War: France, Germany, Britain, and America.  Go figure.

Mr. Cheshire indicates that present-day Russia might be offended by Enemy at the Gates for its apparent celebration and memorialization of Stalinism. My immediate response is who the hell are you to speak for the Russians? followed quickly by the film is not about Joseph Stalin or Soviet communism. In fact, the film featured Bob Hoskins as a screaming Nikita Khrushchev, a Premier who was notoriously anti-Stalin and responsible for initial movements toward de-Stalinization. I think the director’s point was to present a Stalin-lite, or 97% Stalin-free product thus focusing on our sniper hero and the Soviet army, thus distancing the tragedies and atrocities committed by Joseph Stalin from the audience and from the Russian people—at least for two hours—a welcome break from all the Soviet baggage, yes? Perhaps the Russians need something to be proud of, a legacy to call their own. I think they deserve it. There is enough room in the world for every hero, not just American ones.

To consider the French director’s casting of an American to play a Nazi as a vindictive  ploy is shallow, far-fetched, and silly. In fact, it is almost adolescent. Mr. Cheshire leads  his readers to believe that Ed Harris’ selection as the chisled, cold-blooded Nazi Sniper  is a deliberate, snarking thunk on the head to American audiences, but I am not persuaded. Why? Like Mr. Cheshire said “follow the money” –I seriously doubt Paramount is going to jeopardize box office returns for the sake of indulging French snit-fitting. It seems far-fetched that Paramount would allocate a multi-million dollar budget to create a venue for the French to villainize Americans and aggrandize Soviets. Is there any sense to this line of thinking?  Mr. Cheshire is pulling things out the air. He later asserts the film is reactionary (huh?). You really have to dig deep to find enough feathers to knit that duck together, if it’s even possible at all.

On another level, American film audiences, especially ones who flock to blockbuster style popcorn films, are not sophisticated animals. Subtle propaganda will simply sail over their heads. What would be the point? Remember, it is Mr. Cheshire who labeled Enemy at the Gates a popcorn movie—and I agree. Thus, who is the film’s audience? Answer: the average American who knows very little and cares very little about the French resistance, French socialism, Vichy versus DeGaulle, and everything in between. Mr. Cheshire presumes a thinking, paranoid audience. What he’s got mainly is an Everyone Loves Raymond audience.

Later in the article, Mr. Cheshire back-peddles and attributes the film’s major flaws to its “Euro-style international co-production” phoniness. Really? Well, of course it’s phony—all film is artifice. I think the phoniness resides in the fact that American film is characteristically slicked up, glossed over, and shiny; it’s a normal kind of phony  in the United States.  The actors are perfect. Scenes are special effects heavy. That is the hallmark of American blockbuster filmmaking. If he expected art, than he’s an idealistic buffoon. Euro-style? Uh, no. Thus, in my opinion, there is very little Euro-style in it.  European films are more realistic, more human; they contain more substance, less flash and boom. I find Mr. Cheshire’s remarks to be well off the mark. He’s looking through the eyeglass in reverse.

Overall, I enjoyed the film. I don’t think it’s a French propaganda vehicle. I don’t think it’s excessively or abnormally phony, nor is it a memorial to Stalinism and Soviet communism. Godfrey Chesire is short-sighted  and completely full of himself. Perhaps Enemy at the Gates will be purposed  to honor the  legacy of the Soviet Union’s defeat of Nazi Germany, to memorialize the suffering and sacrifice of the Soviet army and people.

 

China: Xiu Xiu The Sent Down Girl

Xiu Xiu The Sent Down Girl is unsettling, ethereal, brutal film about the life experience of a 15 year-old girl during the latter days of China’s Cultural Revolution. I think the film asserts three major themes: the submission of the individual to an ideology, the loss of innocence, and the exploitation of women.

Mao's little red book

Chinese society was completely under the iron fist of the Chinese communist regime. As we read in the unit material, Chinese society was aroused by this propaganda to absurd magnitudes. The success was largely due to the prevailing passivity of Chinese society, though fear and threats were factors, too. There was little instinct to rebel or second-guess the regimes plans. In the event that one did, the repercussions were severe. In sum, this was a fearful society without any control over individual outcomes, without personal choices.

 

Xiu Xiu



The norms were well presented in the film. After completing a primary education, Chinese youth were shipped to work camps for a year, and then perhaps sent on for additional six months of rustifiction training to remote parts of the China. These practices were not questioned. As we saw in the film, this rite was actually regarded as not only honorable, but a cause for celebration. The individual was to submit to the ideology with no individual input about one’s needs or preferences.



Lao Jin



In the latter days of the Cultural Revolution, the system was disintegrating. Xiu Xiu was an unfortunate victim of the collapsing system. She was promised a city job after completing her rustification education in remote China, but then forgotten by the regime’s dissolving bureaucratic system. She was left to languish away int the Chinese steppes without any hope for rescue, to pick up the pieces of her life and find a way out.

The disintegration of the Cultural  Revolution had a tragic effect on the film’s main characters. Xiu Xiu allowed herself to be seduced, and then later sexually exploited with the hope of earning her way out of the grasslands. She used sex as currency. Xiu Xiu’s innocence and expectations were totally corrupted which culminated into her death—a death she chose.

Lao Jin, her father/protector and mentor, watched Xiu Xiu’s progressing corruption, but lacked the personal power to oppose or intervene. He turned a blind eye, though it wounded him very deeply.

In the end, the only available choice  left to them was death: homicide/suicide. Sadly, these characters could not imagine any other way out of their circumstances. I think this speaks volumes about their lack of self-worth, personal power, and individual choice.

India: Earth

My reaction Earth is lukewarm. The film felt contrived and superficial.  There was little character development; I just couldn’t invest in any of the characters except Lenny, the crippled child, mostly because I felt sorry for her. The script (and therefore the characters) wasn’t witty, insightful, or interesting. The use of symbols was heavy-handed. Though Mehta shows the audience what occurred on Indian Independence Day, we don’t know what was felt or seen.  Mehta offers a few cliché devices: burning buildings and angry mobs. But overall, I think it’s a fluff film that completely glosses over a devastating day in India’s history. In fact, I think it’s completely candy-assed, similar to the Disney-esque Hotel Rwanda with both films guilty of pre-digesting and sugar coating weighty subject matter. But all film is artifice, so we’ll just leave it at that.

Obviously I agree with the negative reviews.

Earth reveals a highly stratified Indian society: Britons, Indian Briton-wannabes, and the working class. The film also features  Muslim, Hindi, and Sikh populations. The film’s timeline is a month or a few weeks prior to Independence Day. Citizens are paranoid. Rumors are flying; there is much uncertainty. As Independence Day approaches, tensions rise, tempers flare, even  among heretofore peaceful friends—a group comprised of three different faiths.  Fear and potential loss ratchets up the stress levels amid the group.

The forthcoming change underway amounts to the cleaving off of a piece of India, then renaming it Pakistan. Muslims will migrate to Pakistan. Hindis will migrate to India. Sikh will—I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. But it goes without saying that changes are coming, and no one will like them. And indeed, Indian Independence Day unfurled  a massacre: Muslims killing Hindis and Sikh, Hindis and Sikh killing Muslims.

It was difficult to observe the characters’ reactions because they were not well-developed. Shanta seemed confused and like so many others—unsure about what to expect.  We know that she is “neutral” because she is Parsi. Unfortunately, Mehta  misses an opportunity to present any real perspective because Shanta’s story line was primarily romantic. We are deprived of a main character’s entire experience.

Hassan, a Muslim,  reacted by remaining tolerant and loyal to his friends. He loved Shanta despite the fact that her religion is different from his. He proposed to her. Later, he hid the Sikh zookeeper and his family from angry Muslim mobs. 

Ice Candyman, a Muslim, became angry, embittered,  and vengeful.  But Mehta misses another opportunity to advance any real perspective: is his vengeance personal or religious? We don’t know.

Overall, I “liked” the film, but Mehta doesn’t offer much more perspective on Indian Independence Day than a Wiki page.

I loved the music and clothing.