Perspectives from Paris

On the 14th, I woke up  to find out that something bad had happened in Paris. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but I knew that people had died. Sensational headlines: I remember getting my preliminary dose of information from an article called “Multiple deadly attacks on night of terror.” With mixed feelings I proceeded to message a few of my friends living in the capital city wondering how they were doing. One response stood out of me, the reason I thought that the attacks in Paris really put “Imperialism” in perspective for me. he said “It’s ISIS, we’re used to it. Everyone is used to it.”

Apparently their reason was that France is the “capital of prostitution and obscenity,” but ISIS really didn’t need a reason, did they. For a long time, no one knew whether their near and dear ones were alive or dead.

Then the media began to cover the event. Cities coloured their most famous monuments with the colours of the French flag and everyone changed their display pictures on facebook. The 12th will go down in the annals of history the largest atrocity that has been committed on French soil.

Then people began to question why there wasn’t anyone #prayingforBeirut which had been attacked the day before. Questions were raised as to whether the lives of individuals with a lighter skin colour were more valuable than those who weren’t as fair. It then became evident that the media had indeed covered the event, but the people and their government, possibly desensitised to the atrocities in Beirut were actually not taking notice.

In journalism, we learn about a concept called framing. This means that a media piece does not only determine what a person will think about an event, but exactly how they will think about it. It is like inception, so so powerful – and I imagine film is the same. It is not just the matter that has been presented to you, it is the nuances and context, the filmmaker and the subject. It is about their relationship. We just have to choose to see.

 

Ju Lyn & Jun Yan’s assignment again

In case you guys still cannot see the link, try this one (I hope we’re not spamming the blog..)

Ju Lyn’s and Jun Yan’s creative assignment.

If the embedded player does not work, try the link below.

Waltz with Bashir: The function of animations in depicting reality

In the first leg of the lives of most children, we grow up watching cartoons to put into bite sized bits a mishmash of fantasy and reality. We had the Powerpuff girls fighting crime, Dexter concocting in his lab and the list goes on. Then they are introduced to cartoons which do a little more than just entertain: they see to satirise a lot of things we take for granted in society. South Park is a perfect example of this, or even family guy for that matter.

What Waltz with Bashir does takes it one step further. Trying to watch the horrors of the 1982 Lebanon war in the form of Folmam remembering and forgetting. The reason why the film resonated with me was the medium by which it was told. Sometimes, what makes war stories so incredibly difficult to look at is the medium via which they are told. This is not to say that it was easier to watch – it wasn’t. It just clicks with you on a level that is instinctive, just as we did as children. This is in my opinion what makes this film so powerful.

Waltz with Bashir paints Israel with many brushes. One is that of it as a colonial state. Then there is the sepias and browns and sometime very neon almost harsh yellow colour tones of war, remembering and forgetting.

The most striking part of the story is when the movie transitions from the surreal images of Folman’s memory into actual pictures, which puts everything into context. Waltz with Bashir for me, made it very clear that animation isn’t just for children, and when used as well as it has been here, can be a powerful tool to make very powerful emotions like loss and trauma relatable.

“You’re firing flares, not killing people” – Does it really matter?

The entire film is centered on the idea of distance: between then and now, between reality and dreams/memories/hallucinations, between the Israel and the Lebanese, between life and death.

Folman starts off being completely removed from the massacre, both physically and mentally. He doesn’t have any memory of being involved in it. As he slowly regains his memory over the course of the film, he comes closer and closer to the event. Yet, at the end, the distance is restored, as he finds out he isn’t actually complicit in the massacre. The quote in the title of this post is his friend making clear the distinction between Folman and those directly involved in the massacre – the so-called Nazis. What Folman says about him being in the “second or third circle” also speaks of this idea of distance.

Another explicit metaphor for distance used repeatedly in the film is the image of the sea. The first instant this metaphor is used is Folman’s only memory about the massacre where he and three other friends come up on the beach. The four of them look in horror at the massacre happening in the distance (there’s the word!). Another instant is a man floating on the water on top of a giant naked woman (what does this scene even mean, by the way? Is she supposed to be a motherly figure or an erotic one?) while his ship explodes right in front of his eye. All of these scenes present the sea as the antithesis to the war on land. The sea offers a refuge for these soldiers. The calm waters keep them safe from the fiery shootings and bombings.

Yet, this safe distance is but temporary. These soldiers can’t hide from the battles forever. They are a part of this war whether they want to or not. And so is Folman. He may not be directly complicit in the massacre, but it doesn’t mean he can now shed the guilt. He doesn’t kill anyone that night of the massacre, but there is blood on his hands long before that. This is not me condemning Folman. He is already condemned the moment he picks up the gun.

Quite out there: Iraq for sale

I understand capitalism and I sympathise with the those who identify with the principle behind it, but I simple can not understand what would be the motivation behind becoming a “war profiteer” or how a corporation’s moral conscience could even allow them to engage in such a thing. Clearly the documentarian must have shared the same emotions as I did, which is why “Iraq for sale” has very clear one sided narrative.

The documentary captured my attention for a number of reasons, the first being the fact that is is markedly different from the other films we have watched this semester, by the in-your face way the information was presented to us. Made in collaboration with Robert Greenwald and Brave New Films, the film aimed to shed light on alleged malpractice and profiteering during the war efforts in Iraq. I would like to begin by saying that subtlety isn’t really one of Greenwald’s strong suits. The way the film is made is almost tabloid-esque, depiction of the war, with superimposition of the company logos over scenes of destruction. After all he did come up with other gems like “Walmart: The high cost of low price.” Which is something that would look perfect in bold pink and yellow letters on The Sun or something similar.

As a student of journalism, I have to admit that I was confused about the authenticity of the film for how in your face it was, saturated with teary interviews from the victims’ families and people working on the inside, and then I began to realise that this indeed is Greenwald’s style – almost embodying his political activist nature.

One of the shots that stood out for me was towards the beginning of the film, that depicts the female members of one of the fallen soldier’s family smoking. I pondered for a long time what the significance of this could be, and came to the conclusion that it is pauses like this which helped chunk up the outrageous data that is presented to us into bite sized bits. IT was almost as if the clunky editing, too good to be true interviews and bold claims made sense, because of these very human pauses that come up almost unexpectedly.

Iraq for sale hence, is  one of the first films this semester, which portrays the shortcomings of the coloniser in a very prominent way. What is even more surprising is that I kind of disliked it, but was very convinced in the end of Greenwald’s agenda. Which makes him pretty successful at what he does, doesn’t it?

Depicting the Inhumane through the Humanoid

by Chloe

Waltz of Bashir reminded me of Maus by Art Spiegelman, a graphic novel (or comic book basically) of the artist interviewing his father about the holocaust. The comic is so iconic because it combines such a grave topic with a conventionally lighthearted form. Also, it portrays the Jews as Mice and the Germans as cats. Similarly, Waltz presents a story of war through animation, a form more often used for young entertainment. There is a certain incongruence between the subject matter being represented and the method of representation in both works.

On the most basic level, the humanoid shows the dehumanisation of people that have perpetrated and been victims of such inhumane violence. I use the word “humanoid” not in the scifi robot sense, but in the way Spiegelman’s animal characters possess human qualities and Ari Folman’s characters are incomplete representations of real life people. These texts show us that nobody is spared from the dehumanising qualities of war, whether you inflicted violence (Waltz) or had it inflicted upon you (Maus).

However I find that there is also something restorative and respectful about representing inhumanity through the humanoid, as these two works have done. Referring to Yuchen’s concept of concentric circles of complicity, I would like to add that portraying the characters as humanoid increases the the dissociative space between each circle even further. Rather than seeing it as just another repercussion of generational trauma, I would like to suggest that this space allows families dignity and privacy in their grieving and healing.

Furthermore, the use of the humanoid adds a layer of artificiality to their own work. This artificiality in turn exposes their own, as well other ‘official’ histories as constructs that should be taken with a pinch of salt. This self-reflexity is a very post-modern in the way it deconstructs the meta-narrative and validates multiple experiences of a single event, which I find is particularly apt for postwar literatures.

Lebanon, The Sin City

Watching Folman’s Waltz with Bashir made me consider the significance of animation to discuss the theme of psychological instability in the film industry. For me there were many parallels with films like Tarantino’s Sin City and the animated scenes in Snyder’s Sucker Punch. The use of animation to discuss psychological instability is important for the various reasons.

The use of animation brings out the fantasticistic nature of psychology and how characters deal with the psychological anxiety by constructing a metaphysical world to come to terms with the issues they face (in this case the guilt of participation in war). In Waltz with Bashir these metaphysical world is manifested in the dreams Folman has with regards to his participation in the war. Folman’s inability to come to terms with his role in the massacre, albeit indirectly, results in his inability to remember the war. His repression of these memories results in the numerous dreams he has about the war which ultimately come back to haunt him. The is a parallel between the films style of animation and the dreams which haunt him. Both serve as a medium of truth which does not harshly reveal the facticity of the horror of war but makes it more palatable to both the audience and the protagonist. The genre of animation gives a pseudo-reality to the content making it debatable to what is the truth and it is through reconciliation with this debate that a solution or truth may be discovered. The use of animation and dreams parodies the subconscious and gives a physical appearance to it.

The real focus of Waltz with Bashir

I find that the most prominent aspect of the film was the animated form, which made me think of a similar situation that I was witness to a couple of years ago, when I visited the Nanjing War memorial museum in China that was built in order to remember the soldiers that had fallen during the war against Japan. I remember how the museum was distinctly segregated into two sections- one section was for tourists, and another section was solely for the local Chinese people. In the section for the tourists, there were hand drawn pictures of the atrocities committed during the war, with a couple of sculptures depicting the torture that the prisoners of war had to undergo. It was also stated that the reason why drawings were used instead of the actual photographs was because the photographs were too gory for the public to see, yet on hindsight, I cannot help but think that the reason for hand drawing these gory images is the same reason why Greenwald decided to portray the Lebanese war through animation.

Pragmatically speaking, the animated form enables for a wider audience because images of the torture itself is not depicted, shielding the audience from the pain of the war by using animation as a means of creating distance between the viewer and the war itself. This distance then results in an inevitable trivialisation of the war because the individuals involved become reduced to two dimensional figures, while the war became almost video-game like. For quite a while, I was frustrated by this particular presentation of the war because I thought that a war film needs to pay a form of respect to the fallen by presenting it in as authentic a manner as possible, even if no re-representation of an event, especially an event on as large a scale as a war, is accurate. Then it occurred to me that the reason for this particular animated form had something to do with the notion of the false memory, which was a prevalent theme throughout the film. We notice how there are certain scenes that remain continuously repeated, such as the scene of the soldiers rising from the unnaturally yellow water and walking towards the city, which then becomes a recurring scene that was used when there was a lapse in the memory of a particular soldier- Folman, in particular, who barely remembers anything from the war. Perhaps then the use of animation was a means of highlighting that it is impossible to represent the war in its true entirety because the animation simplified version of the war parallels Folman’s memory of the war.

As such, what the film’s animated form then appears to be drawing attention to is the fact that an accurate, detailed representation of the war itself is not important. Rather, the film draws attention inwards, by looking at the trauma that the individuals suffered during the war. By simplifying the details of the war through the use of animation, the focus is then drawn to the individuals such as Folman himself and the suffering that happened not only during the war, but more importantly, after the war itself. Perhaps the focus on the post-war is the reason behind the final scene, where we see real footage of the aftermath of the war itself, because that’s what’s important- the aftermath.

The Depersonalized Spectator

Waltz with Bashir was confusing to understand- was this supposed to be some sort of cartoon where a man’s story was told? Or was it trying to send a political message to its viewers? However, as the movie began to pick up in pace, it became clear that the film meant to show to destructive and senseless tragedy of war, not only on a national level but on a personal level.

Despite its grave message and themes, Waltz with Bashir had an almost pervasive flippant tone in its presentation of those themes. For example, a song suddenly comes on after one of the characters escapes from the beach. The song is completely out of place from the other themes of the film, and almost seems to make fun of the war, turning it into a joke. Another song comes on as the characters enter into a city via tanks, the lyrics going, “I bombed Beirut today, I bombed Beirut everyday.” The death of civilians are also treated lightly, the voice over emotionlessly mentioning, “of course we killed some.” Lastly, the presentation of such a tragic film in a comic book style animation not only makes the film seem a lot more light hearted than it should be, it confuses viewers about its true intention.

On the other hand, all these also reflect the depersonalizing, traumatic effects of war. The therapist tells the protagonist that he is going through dissociative experiences, where he feels like he is watching the war instead of having participated in it. The comic book style of the film dissociates the audience from the film (except for the last scene), placing distance between viewers and the film. We have a lesser chance of sympathizing with the victims of war if we watch this cartoon instead of real life actors. The spectatorship of the viewers reflect the spectatorship of the protagonist and his own memories. The confusing, intrusive, out-of-place songs mimic the intrusive, traumatic memory patterns of the trauma the protagonist is experiencing.