Thursday 29 April 2010

Trans-national Cinema

Latin American Cinema has moved outside of the local to become transnational.

It is common for theorists, when analysing Latin American Cinema, to place emphasis on the obvious move towards a transnational mode of filmmaking within a cinema that was originally concerned with the local. As New Latin American Cinema is rooted in the theme of unity, this theory has become increasingly important. Therefore it is appropriate to consider how and/or why the cinema has become transnational. For example, examining the economic and cultural context in which the suggested transnational preoccupations have developed and extracting various examples from New Latin American films.

To begin with, how did a cinema that, since the advent of sound, embraced their individual national culture (for instance, referenced particular traditions of music and dance), come to favour a transculturation, as termed by Fernando Ortiz, approach to film? For Ortiz and indeed Angel Rama, who later adapted the theory, transculturation was not about directly shunning national culture, for example the specifically Argentinian Tango or the Brazilian Samba, or rejecting outside influences but rather accepting the cultural diversities as they exist within Latin America as one unity. It can not be coincidence that Ortiz developed his study, Contrapunteo Cubano del Tabaco y Azucar, at a time when migration of talent was prevalent. The 1940s and 1950s had seen a sharp rise of European and American film practitioners coming to work in Latin America. As discussed by Susan Hayward, Latin American film-makers also went to Europe, Cubans and Mexicans collaborated to contribute to Argentinian cinema and so on, leaving a heritage which influenced ‘the present trend of transnationalism.’1 Thus, for Hayward, migration and the role it has played in increasing collaborations between diverse national talents, is a major factor in the move away from local themes.

However, perhaps a more defining factor was the need for Latin American film to reach an international audience. In simple terms, this need was due to a lack of funding for independent national productions and devalued currency, along with the rise of consumer television. Collaborations, therefore, were as much about sharing financial burden as they were to do with migration. As Renaro Rosaldo observes, cinema does not escape the interdependence of borrowing and lending ‘across porous national and cultural boundaries’2 that is a dominate influence throughout the world in a time of globalisation.
‘Many of the recent feature films considered to be Latin American films, by reason of the nationality of the film-makers, are co-productions with European companies or institutions and first address an international audience.’3
Furthermore, Hayward agrees that with the rise of television, cinema once again became an ‘elitist cultural artefact,’4 with the result of film being aimed at an international audience. With the venues for New Latin American Cinema consisting mainly of festivals held outside of Latin American regions, for example Chicago or New York, it is not difficult to understand how or why the cinema has moved towards the transnational.

It is important to note how this move is reflected in the New Latin American film texts. For example, there is a clear shift away from geographical concerns in general but also some films deal directly with transcultural or migrancy themes at a narrative level. Lucrecia Martel’s La Nina Santa, for example, denies the viewer a clear perspective of geographical location, in contrast to the original Latin American preoccupation with landscape, instead the frame is always tightly shot; focussing on characters and never indicating exactly ‘where’ outside is. Although this is essentially a New Argentine film, the themes, for example relationships or obsession, are universal. The absence of specific location suggests that space and time are irrelevant and that the film is not concerned with nationality. In the case of Argentina, it becomes increasingly apparent that the move towards the transnational was inevitable, if not necessary. To clarify, having taken into account Argentina’s highly developed and strong sense of culture, for example, as Beatriz Sarlo claims, the popular melodrama, farces and Music Hall to name only a few-it seems unlikely that Argentine practitioners would negate their specifically national culture without due cause. Perhaps it was the need for Latin America to be unified in the struggle against underdevelopment?

For now, returning to how the move away from the local is articulated within film texts, it can be seen in Fresas y Chocolate, that, in addition to being a co-production between Tomas Gutierrez Alea and Juan Carlos Tabio, there is also an expression of national tensions in the narrative. This is shown when the protagonist David asks ‘Where is he from?’ in reference to the author of some form of high art and Diego replies ‘Obsessed with nationalities…he is Cuban.’ The conversation is arguably directed at those critics/theorists who still insist on defining Latin American films based on individual nationality. Ann Marie Stock, for example, discusses what she terms as an ‘Authenticity Paradox,’ she proposes that ‘a critical insistence on authenticity prevails,’5 despite globalization and the migrancy of talent. Examples of comments based on Guillermo Del Toro’s Cronos are used to demonstrate the paradox. Despite the obvious international influences on the film’s production and aesthetics, Cronos is considered the ‘very Mexicanness of connecting decay and salvation,’ by Anthony De Palma and described as ‘a very stylish and sophisticated Mexican variation,’ by Janet Maslin. The comments are particularly interesting when u consider the use of linguistics in the film, for example, Toro has the protagonists develop a dual-language to communicate. As Stock discusses, the blending of English and Spanish makes the film more accessible for audiences across the continent and almost eliminates the need for subtitles. Furthermore, Stock suggests that the Spanish/English conversations within the film is in parallel to and acknowledges the diversity of cultures in Mexico and throughout America as a whole.
‘In reproducing polyphonic dialogues rather than constructing singular linguistic traditions, the film acknowledges the porosity of borders, the migrancy of populations, and the hybridity of expressive culture.’6
Stock is suggesting then that the move towards the transnational within New Latin American Cinema, particularly at an aesthetic level is due to an awareness possessed by filmmakers in relation to cultural and political changes throughout Latin America.

Once again returning to Fresas y Chocolate, the film, as well as providing direct narrative discussion of location, also contains various references to outside and cross-cultural influences in the form of foreign books and whisky. Moreover, David brings Diego a picture of the revolutionary image of Che Guevara, an image that arguably embodies the ideal of a unified America; Guevara having believed that national borders were an illusion. This view is fully explored in Diarios de Motocicleta, a pan-American film, in which Ernesto, ‘Che,’ makes a speech regarding the issue. The film’s incorporation of foreign elements highlights Fresas y Chocolate’s acknowledgement of Latin American cultural diversity. If the foreign references are not adequate, the film further reveals that it is transnational by offering direct intertextuality between itself and the mainstream film Some Like It Hot. At the same time the audience is not left in any doubt that the story is set in Cuba, as well as providing shots of the City, there are other references to the story location, for example, in an early scene Diego produces a plastic shopping bag, while sitting with David in a café/restaurant, which has Cuba clearly printed on it. Moreover, the films portrayal of the character’s devotion to Orishas, as a form of alternative religion, is specifically Cuban. For example, Nancy’s worshiping of Santa Barbara and Diego’s bargaining with an image of the Virgin Mary. The practice of Santeria and the worship of Orishas were able to flourish in Cuban homes due to the outlaw of public exercising of conventional religion. The specifically Cuban elements suggest that Alea is acknowledging Cuban culture as it exists within the unity of Latin America.
Zuzana M. Pick also discusses New Latin American Cinema as it may exist in terms of a ‘unified entity’ and considers that the movement has essentially mirrored the way in which Latin America has unified in the struggle of underdevelopment.
‘as a movement, it accommodates diverse practices into a whole in the same way as the term Latin America organizes the heterogeneous formations that stretch from Rio Grande to Tierra del Fuego.’7
In this sense, the cinema becomes a mediator between state and nation. As explained by Julianne Burton Carvajal, dependent countries tend to be caught in the struggle to ‘conquer an elusive authenticity,’8 and in the case of Latin American nations, she suggests that artists, therefore, act as representatives mediating between the national citizens and the state. Carvajal goes on to state that the preoccupation with pan-nationalism, that the New Latin American Cinema reflected, gave a voice to the struggling masses through the safe-guard of the mediator. Pick also suggests that the exile of filmmakers under dictatorship has contributed substantially to the move away from specifically national themes. For example, she claims that exile alters creativity. For instance, if a filmmaker is exiled he is therefore forced to engage with new cultures and audiences, meaning he must change the way he articulates his work in order to become accessible to the new audience. Pick also recognised that even if the exiled was able to return, the nation would not be found exactly as he had left it. She terms this notion as a ‘decentering of views on identity,’9 and argues that the result of exile, permanent or otherwise, is a transference of narrative ideas across borders.

These factors, that is, exile, migrancy and the common struggle of underdevelopment, along with certain economic reasons, have all contributed to the New Latin American Cinema’s move towards the transnational. As discussed before, some of these factors also influence the film aesthetics. For example, Cronos’s migrancy theme, in the form of border-crossing Tom Mix, in addition to the dual-language it presents. What is undeniable is the notion of diversity as it exists within unity throughout New Latin American Cinema. However, this has caused problems for certain critics. For instance, Michael Wood suggests that Bunuel’s use of popular language in Los Olvidados is detrimental to the universal theme, in that, the message may be international but the faces and the voices are Mexican. If you examine New Latin American Film in this way then of course you will come across similar contradictions. Nonetheless, with the inclusion of certain cultural elements, the cinema has found a way of addressing an international audience without completely negating their national history.
[i]




1Hayward, Susan, ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts,’ Second Edition (Routledge: London) 2000, P. 429

2 Rosaldo, Renaro, ‘Authentically Mexican? Mi Querido Tom Mix and Cronos Reframe Critical Questions,’ in ‘Mexico’s Cinema, A Century of Film and Filmmakers’ (Scholarly Resources: Delaware) 1999, P.272

3 Newman, Kathleen, ‘National Cinema After Globalization, Fernando Solana’s Sur and the Exiled Nation,’ in ‘Mediating Two Worlds, Cinematic Encounters in the Americas’ (BFI: London) 1993, P. 244

4 Hayward, Susan, ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts,’ Second Edition (Routledge: London) 2000, P.431

5 Stock, Ann Marie, ‘Mexican? Mi Querido Tom Mix and Cronos Reframe Critical Questions,’ in ‘Mexico’s Cinema, A Century of Film and Filmmakers’ (Scholarly Resources: Delaware) 1999, P.268

6 Stock, Ann Marie, ‘Mexican? Mi Querido Tom Mix and Cronos Reframe Critical Questions,’ in ‘Mexico’s Cinema, A Century of Film and Filmmakers’ (Scholarly Resources: Delaware) 1999, P. 279

7Pick, Zuzana M, ‘The New Latin American Cinema, A Continental Project’ (University of Texas Press: Austin) 1993, P. 2

8 Carvajal, Julianne B ‘South American Cinema, Nation and anti-nation: the new Latin American cinema movement, artist-intellectuals, and the notion of the popular’ in ‘The Oxford Guide to Film Studies (Oxford University Press: New York) 1998, P. 580

9 Pick, Zuzana M ‘South American Cinema, Nation and anti-nation: the new Latin American cinema movement, artist-intellectuals, and the notion of the popular’ in ‘The Oxford Guide to Film Studies (Oxford University Press: New York) 1998, P. 583




Bibliography

Hill, John, Gibson Church, Pamela ‘The Oxford Guide to Film Studies’ (Oxford University Press: New York) 1998

Hershfield, Joanne, Maciel, David R ‘Mexico’s Cinema, A Century of Film and Filmmakers’ (Scholarly Resources: Delaware) 1999

Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: London) 2000

Pick, Zuzana M ‘The New Latin American Cinema, A Continental Project’ (University of Texas Press: Austin) 1993

King, John, Lopez, Ana M, Alvarado, Manuel ‘Mediating Two Worlds, Cinematic Encounters in the Americas’ (BFI: London) 19993

Filmography

Cidade de Deus, Brazil, 2002, d: Mereilles, Fernando, Lund, Katia

La Nina Santa, Argentina, 2004, d: Martel, Lucrecia

Fresas y Chocolate, Cuba, 1994, d: Alea, Tomas Gutierrez, Tabio, Juan Carlos

Auteur Theory and Jean-Luc Godard's Bande a Part

To conduct an appropriate theoretical analysis of Jean-Luc Godard’s Bande A Part, it is essential to establish the social context in which the film was made and to what extent this context has influenced the cinematic aesthetics. Bande A Part was a product which emerged out of the Nouvelle Vague, of which the director is or can be argued to be, due to his modernist approach, a defining figure. Thus, it is appropriate to examine the film with close reference to the new wave movement and the various auteurist debates that the movement fuelled.

Bande A Part was not the first of Godard’s new wave films. However, it seems to be, as suggested by Rolando Caputo, the film in which all of the genres features came together in a more fluid or ‘poetic’ unity. Intertextuality, for example, is a key feature that developed alongside all of the new wave’s apparently ‘counter’-cinematic codes and narrative structures. It was a feature that brought two or more texts into alignment, creating a parallel between the work of the new wave film-makers and classic Hollywood cinema. This element of referencing other cinema is something that Bande A Part embraces, to a point were it becomes a preoccupation throughout the entire production. The first scene, for instance, provides us with a direct reference to the American western, in particular Billy the Kid and Man of the West, which becomes the character Arthur’s inspiration during his theatrical dying gesture. Man of the West is subsequently the muse behind Arthur’s final death scene, where the background setting of forest/trees is very obviously borrowed from the western. With this scene Godard was essentially paying homage to the western films he reviewed as a member of the Cahiers group. The film’s fixation with ‘pulp’ culture resulted in it becoming the model for Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction whose ‘twist’ dance sequence is a direct reference to the interpretation of the Madison dance in Bande A Part, which in turn is paying homage to the classic Hollywood musical.

The silent era is referred to, not just by the intertextuality between Bande A Part and The Immigrant, which is a silent classic but also by the whole cinematic aesthetics of the final scene when Odile and Franz are setting out on a boat to Brazil. For example, Godard chose film stock that was appropriate for the era and even the character Odile’s acting style is relevant to the silent period when exaggerated gestures were the norm. Moreover the repetition that occurs of shots of the canals and water can be argued to refer to the ‘poetic realism’ as described by Caputo, of many films of the 1930s. The continued referencing of other cinema verifies Bande A Part as belonging to a movement that sought to embrace and capitalise on Hollywood conventions. An essay by Francois Truffaut called ‘Une Certain ten-dance du Cinema’ is thought to be the original manifesto for the movement.

The new modernist approach to film making was seen to be a reaction against the established French film industry and its romantic conventions. However some critics have found a problem in accepting the legitimacy of this reaction, suggesting that its very foundation created a paradox. For example, figures of the Nouvelle Vague, including Truffaut, Rivette, Rohmer and Godard, wanted to draw their attention to the auteur and his individual signature in the mise en scene. This ideology, contrary to being reactionary, instead echoed the romantic and conservative aesthetics they were trying to move away from.
‘Paradoxically, given their so-called modernity and innovativeness, this was rather a romantic ideal and conservative aesthetic.’1
Furthermore, the notion of favouring the auteur, as it is discussed by Susan Hayward, causes difficulties because it ‘erases’ context, that is, according to Hayward, history. Despite the criticisms, Godard can be seen as the director to emerge from the Cahiers group who has constantly questioned the ideologies of auteurism, his films, including Bande A Part are equally self-aware.

They worked on the principles of the theatre practitioner Bertolt Brecht, who in theatre encouraged the audience to think, not feel and to spectate without identifying. As suggested by Robert P. Kolker in an essay ‘Contesting the Hollywood Style,’ they made films that took their own ‘textuality’ as one of their subjects. This can be seen in Bande A Part when the characters’ pass a Nouvelle Vague nightspot in the city and again during a scene on the metro/ train when Odile and Arthur observe an unhappy looking boy and decide, based on two alternative contexts whether the package he is carrying is a teddy bear or a bomb. These self-conscious elements contribute to the structural denaturalising Godard achieves by exposing cinematic conventions.
The auteur debate, up until the 1950s, had focussed mainly on sociological analysis. However, the Cahiers group, by paying more attention to American mainstream cinema, caused a re-examination of the notion of auteur. Hollywood had been previously rejected in any debates on the grounds that American directors had a limited influence over production. Despite this, the Cahiers group maintained that true auteurs, such as Alfred Hitchcock, were aware of all aspects of film production and as such could retain an adequate amount of influence over them.
‘The reason these critics appreciated the glimmerings of personal expression in Hollywood movies was because they concentrated on this aspect of the cinema and knew exactly how films were made […] and could by dint of knowledge and force of will control all the significant aspects.’2
It is important to examine Bande A Part in relation to where it fits within the evolution of the auteurist debate, for example, the film was released in 1964 when structuralism was already being established, in that, the underlying structures of the text produced meaning along with the central auteur. For Hayward, structuralism formed the second phase of the debate and brought about a positive change to auteur theory.

It is not difficult to see how this ‘phase’ has influenced Godard. Primarily, given its scientific approach, it allowed the director to create a film form that rejected romanticism. There are differing opinions regarding the value of structuralism. For example, while Caputo comments optimistically of Godard’s focus on ‘plot skeletons’ and the moulding of American conventions by European aesthetics, Hayward suggests that the aesthetic experience is crushed by the weight of the theoretical framework. Bande A Part, however criticised for its ideological limitations and essentially a-political objectives, undeniably offered the audience pleasure, as described by Pam Cook in The Cinema Book, due to the recognition of its Hollywood codes.
Throughout the film, there is a repeated blurring of the lines between fiction and reality. The film is essentially ‘bookended’ by this theme, to clarify, in the first scene we observe Franz and Arthur play with make believe guns, after which Arthur makes a show of an overly animated death. This animation is mimicked in Arthur’s real death scene so that we, as an audience, are not sure if what we are witnessing is truth or fiction. This theme is more obviously present in the metro sequence where, as described by Caputo, a dislocation of time and space occurs. For example, the sequence begins naturalistically but as Odile starts to recall a song/poem and begins singing, her words start to correspond with a montage of shots that progress from day to night and from the metro to the outside streets. As Caputo suggests, the whole scene has a mythic quality and we get the feeling we have descended into an underworld where time and space are irrelevant. The dislocation of time further places the film, with its experimental style, away from the French film industry and into the Nouvelle Vague. It could also be argued that this sequence, due to its gothic elements, is in reference to the genre of expressionism.

Another element, influenced by the new wave that Bande A Part reveals is the characteristic of the fixation with certain geographic locations. For example, the film depicts scenes in the café, airport and the streets of Paris. These are locations that appear in various other new wave film’s including A Bout de Souffle and La Peau Douce. It has been considered that the locations featured in these films, as put forward by Cook, represent ‘a tourist’s view of France. Furthermore, the film also centres on the relationship between Odile, Arthur and Franz and the dynamics within their triangle. Again this theme is typical of the Nouvelle Vague whose story lines were most often based on the relationships between young men and women.

As a product of its social context, that is, emerging at the time of the Nouvelle Vague, Bande A Part is enveloped by the auteur debate that was developing at the time. It was made by a director who is still considered an auteur, despite varying debates surrounding the validity of the term. For example, Peter Wollen places Godard’s work, as not so much originating from the auteur, but from ‘a set of contradictory relationships between structural elements which interact to produce the author’s world-view.’ Therefore, Bande A Part can be seen as a defining film of the period and as such most appropriately analysed in the context of its features that are driven by the objectives of the new wave. As outlined, the defining features arguably include intertextuality, structuralism, capitalisation of Hollywood conventions and the overall self-conscious tone of the film. The film, although debatably flawed due to its lack of politics, does what it sets out to. That is, pays homage to and celebrates the commercial effectiveness of the American mainstream.


[i]

1 Hayward, Susan pg147 Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts, Second Edition (Routledge: London) 2000

2 Hess John, pg 30 ‘Film Quarterly’ volume 27, no.2, JSTOR Archive (University of California Press)


Bibliography

Cook, Pam. Bernink, Mieke ‘The Cinema Book’ 2nd Edition (BFI: London) 1999

Hayward, Susan ‘The Cinema Book, The Key Concepts’ 2nd Edition (Routledge: London) 2000

Forbes, Jill. Kolker, Robert, P. Kramer, Peter. Edited by Hill, John and Church Gibson, Pamela ‘The Oxford Guide to Film Studies’ (Oxford University Press: New York) 1998

Journals

Hess, John (1973-1974) ‘Auteurism and after: A Reply to Graham Petrie’ in ‘Film Quarterly’ volume 27, no.2, pp. 28-37

Wollen, Peter (1972) ‘Godard and Counter Cinema: Vent d’est’ in ‘Afterimage’ volume 4 ‘Movies and Methods II, edition Nichols, Bill, Berkeley: University of California Press pp500-509.

Filmography

Bande A Part, France, 1964, d: Godard, Jean-Luc

Extra Features in Bande A Part, France, 1964, d: Godard, Jean-Luc- Exclusive Audio Commentary on fragments of Bande A Part by Caputo, Rolando





Ends.

Tuesday 27 April 2010

Post-colonial Cinema and The Case of Algiers

As a theory, postcolonial suggests the study of a precarious space, that is, a space that exists post-colonialism. Thus, in the body of this essay, the term postcolonial will refer to the theory/study of post-colonial nations. Therefore the term post-colonial, as in most academic texts, will always refer to the subject and/or space that the theory is examining. In relation to cinema, the theory offers a specific analysis of the films that have emerged from such a space. It provides an unparalleled reading of films which are born out of the colonial struggle and also shares certain characteristics with third cinema, for instance the preoccupation with underdeveloped or conflicted nations. For example, in the case of The Battle of Algiers, postcolonial theory, or a reading of the film as a struggle against colonialism, reveals a clearer understanding of the director’s narrative choices. For instance, why does Gillo Pontecorvo choose to neglect significant historical moments and instead fixate on the conflict between the FLN and the French police? Thus, it is necessary to examine the theory as it is applied to this type of film, The Battle of Algiers in particular, and also to identify the definitional problems it creates.
The benefit of this theory, specifically within the case of The Battle of Algiers, is that it investigates both the period after independence has been achieved and also, perhaps more importantly, it investigates the period of struggle and resistance between the coloniser and colonised before independence is won. ‘Postcolonial theory is not a single theory.’1 It is this struggle, the means and not the end result that interested Pontecorvo and scriptwriter Franco Solinas in the case of Algeria. ‘I was intrigued by the mechanism of the struggle against colonialism and, in particular, by its manifestation in Algeria through tactics of urban guerrilla warfare.’2 Solinas suggests then, that the film, at least in his vision, was about exposing the conflict that colonialism had fuelled rather than celebrating Algeria’s independence or totally identifying with the Algerian people-as it might do, had it embraced the typical third cinema objectives. When postcolonial theory is applied to this type of film, it dissects the mise en scene and makes us more aware that the portrayal of violence, torture, disguise and war tactics in the film is significant and part of the struggle against colonialism.
As a psychiatrist, Frantz Fanon, who is considered the first major writer on the theory, argued that violence was an important part of the struggle, suggesting that the act of violence ‘frees the native from his inferiority complex.’3 The influence of Frantz Fanon on The Battle of Algiers also contributes to the appropriateness of examining postcolonial theory as it is applied to the film. As Susan Hayward notes, Fanon’s texts of the 1950s and 1960s form ‘the foundation of this theory.’4 His influence is evident in the behaviour of the characters, to clarify, while working in Algeria, Fanon studied the ‘effects of colonialism on the psyche of the colonized,’5 and the behaviour of the characters can be seen to correspond with his psychological theories. As Mike Wayne discusses, petty criminal Ali La Pointe, in choosing fight over flight, is able to restore his self respect and subsequently join the war against French rule. The colonel Mathieu, when considered in terms of postcolonial theory, can be seen as representing the rationality behind French colonial tactics. For example, the decision of the French Army to use torture is somehow justified by the sophisticated, civilised character and his rationalisation of the tactic. In this sense, the film refuses to demonise the coloniser and in doing so allows the tone to remain ambivalent. As Solinas argues, there is little use in viewing the French coloniser as the villain simply because he uses torture, he states, ‘The Algerian situation was rotten long before torture became an issue.’6 Moreover to side with the Algerians is to lose sight of the films objective, that is, to portray the conflict and the dynamics of the relationship between both parties. The ambivalent nature of the film also arguably mimics the questions of identity that post-colonial society creates.
In simple terms, postcolonial theory explores the idea or questions of national identity and culture in the post-colonial space. Identity becomes a question for the post-colonial subject, because, as described by Hayward, the subject is by its very nature hybrid. She argues that because the post-colonial subject occupies an ‘in-between’ space, of two distinct cultures, that it is therefore ‘one of contradictions and ambivalences.’7 Furthermore, as discussed by Wayne, culture, along with economic resources, is one of colonialism’s main objects of control. Therefore, post-colonialism is plagued by the search for a new hybrid identity, which is neither rooted in the pre-colonialism culture or the identity/culture of the coloniser. It is argued by Pam Cook that postcolonial theory deals effectively with such cultural contradictions. The divide of the colonial space between the two distinct inhabitants is represented quite literally in the portrayal of the city in The Battle of Algiers, where the European district and the Algerian Casbah are completely set apart by borders and by environment- metropolitan versus poverty.
Although this theory is useful in understanding the focus which Pontecorvo places on the conflict between the FLN and the French military, it is not without it problems. For example, Hayward considers that there is a danger in the application of postcolonial theory, in that, it tends to be or tends to be interpreted to be, what she describes as, a ‘totalizing theory.’ ‘A new kind of totalizing theory that places all post-colonial nations and their cultures on a par?’8 Hayward’s problem then, is that the theory may be used to examine each post-colonial subject as though they were not the product of diverse historical and political situations. She goes on to argue that we must be aware not to place Eurocentric eyes onto the concept of postcolonial theory, a point of view which would assume that ‘history is the west.’9 Hayward is not alone in her concerns with the theory, Wayne also accuses the theory of having little practical application. However, this can not be true in the case of The Battle of Algiers, since the theory has a practical use in analysing the historical Battle and how it is demonstrated by the film.
To begin with, the theory helps to understand the representation of women. The liberation of women is a key point of reference both within the post-colonial space and the postcolonial theory as applied to The Battle of Algiers. It has been argued that in nations were women are oppressed or seen to be oppressed depending on your definition, that colonialism leads to a ‘double colonization or oppression.’9 For example, in the case of Algeria it is noted that the ‘veiled woman’ became a symbolic rejection and/or protest against French rule. Therefore the FLN and extreme conservative groups in Algeria encouraged or enforced the wearing of the veil. Hubertine Auclert, founder of France’s first suffragist newspaper, viewed the veil as a representation of the ‘forced submission of Muslim women. French influence within the nation, on the contrary to encouraging the liberation of these women, only served to increase the extent to which they were oppressed. The French government had attempted to use their so called liberating of Muslim women as a scapegoat for their presence in Algeria. To clarify, as Todd Shepard discusses, by focussing on the veiled women the government were able to avoid ‘responding to the FLN or engaging a debate on the question of colonialism. However, Auclert noted that, the French official’s obscure way of liberating women was to refuse to establish schools for Muslim girls, arguing that it would create ‘a group of educated Muslim women neither European nor Muslim societies would accept.’10
The veiling and unveiling of Muslim women within The Battle of Algiers is rooted in this idea of colonialism. At the beginning of the film, or the first manifestations of the FLN tactics in the film, the veiled women represent a protest against French rule and at a practical level they are able to carry weapons and assist in the battle while remaining anonymous. The unveiling of the women is equally symbolic. For instance, after the French military have become aware that the FLN are using the veiled women, the Algerian’s change tactics and instead let the women unveil themselves and masquerade as Europeans. This way they are able to move around freely and occupy the metropolitan space. In this sense, as discussed by Wayne, the European disguise allows the colonised to use the coloniser’s racism to their own advantage. The unveiling of the women represents their transition from passive to active and we see within the film that with this transition the women almost become equal to the men. When Ali la Pointe is jailed, for example, he finds a commonality with the women as he watches through the physical constraint of the bars. The bars mirror the way in which the Muslim women look out from their veils. In creating a parallel between the prison bars and the veil, the film further highlights the extent to which the veil is a means of oppression. Postcolonial theory raises a question in regards to the women’s transition, will the changes that were influenced by the struggle that made them more active, be continued once independence has been won and Algerian rule is implemented?
Thus, although postcolonial theory helps us to understand the driving forces of war and why colonialism results, at least within the case of Algeria, in violent conflict, it does seem to raise more questions than it answers. For example, the question of identity, culture and to a certain extent, the future. As the post-colonial space is so uncertain, it tends to raise the question of the future. For example, how does a nation find its feet again, post-colonialism? Postcolonial theory offers a particular analysis of nations that have experienced colonial struggle; it focuses on the conflict and the psyche of the colonised and the coloniser. Therefore it is an important alternative to looking at these nations, and their films, from a third cinema perspective. In that, it does not become preoccupied with ideology and favouring identification with the colonialised.
[i]


1 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 271

2 Solinas, Franco ‘An Interview with Franco Solinas,’ in ‘The Battle of Algiers’ edited by Solinas, PierNico: 1973, p. 30

3 Fanon, Frantz ‘Political Film, The Dialectics of Third Cinema’ (Pluto Press: London) 2001, p. 19

4 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 268

5 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 268

6 Solinas, Franco ‘An Interview with Franco Solinas,’ in ‘The Battle of Algiers’ edited by Solinas, PierNico:1973, p. 32

7 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 271

8 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 269

9 Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The Key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000, p. 273
10 Shepard, Todd ‘The Invention of Decolonization, The Algerian War and The Remaking of France’ (Cornell University Press: New York) 2006

Bibliography

Hayward, Susan ‘Cinema Studies, The key Concepts’ (Routledge: Oxon) 2000

Wayne, Mike ‘Political Film, The Dialectics of Third Cinema’ (Pluto Press: London) 2001

Todd, Shepard ‘The Invention of Decolonization, The Algerian War and The Remaking of France’ (Cornell University Press: New York) 2006

Cook, Pam, Bernink, Mieke ‘Postcolonial Cinema,’ in ‘The Cinema Book’ 2nd Edition (BFI: London) 1999

Filmography

The Battle of Algiers, Algeria, 1966, d: Pontecorvo, Gillo.