Monday, April 29, 2013

Blood and Guts in Living Colour: Mondo Cinema and Authentic Death on the Screen



Death of Cinema
            Ever since its birth, cinema has personified two concepts: the Eros and the Thanatos. In the days of the Lumiere Brothers, viewers went to the theatre to see this balance of life play out. The viewer revelled in this act, watching a still image of a train come alive and approach them or a photograph of a factory suddenly come to life and expel out a group of people. What was less celebrated, or perhaps even unnoticed, was the thanatotic element of the cinema; the ability to watch that photograph, which had moments ago come into life, go back into a state of death. Of course, these elements were not merely paratextual. They also found their ways into the diegesis of the films themselves, again with portrayals of life taking precedence over those of death. However, there is a lesser-known history of death on the screen. In the earliest days of cinema, “realistic” portrayals of real death, often executions, were produced for popular consumption. In 1901, for example, the Edison Company released Execution of Czolgosz with Panorama of Auburn Prison, which depicted the execution of Leon Czolgosz, the assassin of American president William McKinley. What set this film apart from its predecessors, however, was that it was released soon after the real execution, causing people to believe that it was genuine. It would not take long for people to see a genuine execution. In 1903, the Edison Company filmed the electrocution of Topsy the Elephant in the aptly-titled Electrocuting an Elephant. The first genuine footage of human death was less than a decade away. In 1912, Franz Reichelt’s fatal jump from the Eiffel Tower, an ill-fated attempt at testing his parachute suit, was captured on film, becoming the first genuine footage of human death. All of this makes it evident that not only was death an important part of early cinema, but also that the viewers were, and still are, interested in seeing death. Despite this, death disappeared from the silver screen for many years. In 1962, audiences were treated to Mondo Cane, the first introduction to the Mondo genre.
This unusual genre, a mixture of documentary and exploitation cinema, has unfortunately been ignored by the academic community. There seems to be a clear reason why this genre is maligned, however: the Mondo film, or the cycles thereof, has always reflected the world that the viewer lives in. Mondo cycles always appear during times of extreme social violence or panic, usually within the United States and the United Kingdom. As a result, the viewer is reminded of the failures of the world around him or her, shattering the sheltered view that people prefer. On top of that, the academic viewer, specifically, tends to reject the Mondo film as immoral, which further brings up the questions of the morality of the documentary. Furthermore, each Mondo cycle takes advantage of the innovation of its time to update the works of the previous cycle and create a new, seemingly distinct style of Mondo. The three cycles that will be discussed here, for example, created a new genre, a more artistic representation and a wider distribution, respectively.

What is and what isn’t Mondo
            Before anything else can be discussed, one must have a working definition for Mondo. The word mondo is Italian for world. This genre designation comes from the film that started this genre, Mondo Cane, which translates to “Dog’s World”. This clearly is not enough, but the bigger problem is that every writer has his or her own definition for Mondo. David Kerekes defines Mondo as a “documentar[y]…where fact often runs secondary to exploitation”1, while Mark Goodall, avoiding giving a proper definition, places Mondo somewhere at a crossroads between documentary, exploitation and art cinema2. The best way to define Mondo would be somewhere between these two definitions: Mondo is a documentary-style film which exploits footage of allegedly authentic death footage. The word allegedly is important here, as the use of false footage does not necessarily negate the label of Mondo. Some of the most important Mondo films, including Faces of Death, consist heavily or almost entirely of falsified sequences. Usually, when this deception is discovered, the filmmakers claim that the false sequences were inspired by true events3. As a side-note, it should be mentioned that the Mondo genre also consists of films which focus not on death, but rather on other taboo subjects (sex, other cultures, the hidden nightlife of one’s own city, etc.). In fact, it is often stated that the first culture shock of the Mondo genre was an image, in Mondo Cane, of an African woman breast-feeding a pig. However, the focus here is specifically on the Mondo films that focus on death.
            With the Mondo genre, it is often more important to comprehend what is not Mondo than what is Mondo, as the detractors of Mondo spread plenty of disinformation about the genre. For example, Mondo is not snuff! Many detractors of Mondo have tried, and continue to try, to equate the two. However, a snuff film is one in which “a filmed account of an actual murder, specifically commissioned, recorded and supplied for the gratification of the paying spectator(s)”4 and is generally accepted as an urban legend. A Mondo film often comprises entirely of found footage and in the few instances where the footage was captured by a film crew filming specifically for such footage, events that are filmed are not committed specifically for the purposes of the film. Furthermore, the exploitation element is an important part of Mondo. So, films which document real death would not be considered Mondo if they are made for reasons other than the documentation of taboos. One would be hard-pressed, for example, to call Allan King’s actuality drama Dying at Grace a Mondo film. Finally, while scenes of genuine death have found their way into the works of Michelangelo Antonioni, Michael Moore and the Maysles Brothers, that does not make them Mondo films, as a Mondo film must, obviously, consist entirely of death sequences. So, Mondo is in fact a very restrictive genre and this may be the best way to describe it.

Proto-Mondo: Art and Slaughter
            In his influential book Film as a Subversive Art, Amos Vogel names films dealing with death, which he calls the “ultimate [cinematic] secret”, as one of the types of subversive filmmaking, one which he further states has been underutilized5. He goes on to claim that the fact that this universal concept does not exist in contemporary cinema…reveals taboo in its purest form”6. It is rather telling, though, that even in this work, the bible of anti-canonical cinema, Vogel refuses to discuss the Mondo genre, which had taken off a decade before the publishing of this book. However, this book does discuss works which eventually influenced Mondo cinema. There is one film and one subgenre of documentary cinema which, taken together, essentially moulded Mondo cinema.
            George Franju’s Blood of the Beasts is the basic framework for the Mondo film. Released in 1949, Franju’s film shows the slaughter of a series of animals at a Paris slaughterhouse, in excruciating detail. The images are accompanied by an unusually calm narrator, alternately explaining the images on the screen and waxing philosophical about life, death and the very act of existence. This formula has been used again and again in the Mondo genre, where, in the majority of cases, the viewer is not allowed to formulate his or her own opinions. Instead, he or she is forced to listen to a pre-written script, which tells the viewer how to feel. This calm demeanour is also an important aspect of the narrative as the Mondo film, just like Franju’s film, attempts to show the images as just elements of everyday life, ones which should not be shocking (despite the fact that they are). Furthermore, animal deaths have always been an important part of Mondo. The simple answer as to why would be that they are easier to film. As evidenced by Franju, it is as simple as walking into a slaughterhouse or a kill-shelter or even one of the many bullfights and cockfights which are still freely available in many parts of the world. It is also much easier to have an animal killed specifically for the camera, as animal cruelty laws are much more lenient than similar laws against “human cruelty”. Mark Goodall offers an alternate explanation for this discrepancy. He believes that animal cruelty is often used as a metaphor for the social ills in human society7. This may be true to some degree, but, as will be evidenced later, animal cruelty is often presented as just another form of cruelty, since Mondo films, especially ones of the first cycle, portray many of their subjects as non-human animals.
            The other proto-Mondo subgenre which influenced later Mondo films, particularly the second cycle, is the concentration camp film. Soon after the liberation of the Nazi concentration camps in 1945, a young Billy Wilder was commissioned to take the footage of the death camps and make Death Mills. This became the first such film, a subgenre which utilizes freely available found footage, in the form of photographs, short footage shot by news sources at the time of liberation and German propaganda films, and creates a film which often contains extra, personally-filmed footage and a philosophical narration. These films were the first form of widespread death-based filmmaking, being made everywhere from Germany and Poland to Russia and Canada, consisting not just of the malnourished, skeletal victims and survivors of the Holocaust, but also of executions, war crimes and other such atrocities. In a few cases, such films were even made as propaganda, which also became a later trademark of Mondo.

First Cycle: Mondo Colonialism
            When Mondo Cane was released in 1962, American society was on its way towards a sudden onslaught of visible violence. One year after its release, John F. Kennedy, president of the United States, was assassinated. He became the first American president to die that way in sixty-two years. This death was captured on a variety of cameras and the resulting footage became one of the most seen of all time. In the next ten-year period, American homes became host to a large variety of violent footage, whether it was the assassinations taking political and cultural figures, the massacres of the people of Vietnam or the beatings and killings of their own people at anti-war protests and race riots. It was not just the United States, either, as, at this time, many African nations were fighting for their rights to independence. Mondo Cane, a collaboration between Paolo Cavara, Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi, was released to great acclaim to the American audience and it was a product of its time, one in which, with the advent of television, people were becoming aware of the world around them. The job of this first film of this Mondo cycle was to act as what John Cohen describes as “a new type of journalism”8, which its creators meant as a response to neorealism9. Mondo cinema was going to show people things that they have never seen before. The reason that these films were different from journalism was that they were more sensational than the news of the time. In a way, this was a return to the cinema of attractions, where viewers were coming to see what they had not been able to see before10. Mondo Cane was focused on the differences between the society in which its viewers (middle-class westerners) lived and the “foreign world”. This gave way to offensive sequences which juxtaposed the “normal” behaviour of Europeans and Americans with the “barbaric” behaviour of the inhabitants of Africa and Asia. In order to conceal their racist bias, the filmmakers would also include sequences of western individuals who were acting strangely, but this was different in two ways. First, the western subjects were themselves members of repressed groups (i.e. members of the queer community) and secondly, the western individuals were mocked, but not dehumanized. Mondo Cane was followed by an uneventful sequel and then came Africa Addio, which was also known in English-language markets as Goodbye Africa and Africa Blood and Guts. This was also the film that caused Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino to call Jacopetti, the face behind the brand, a fascist11. While Mondo Cane contained scenes of death, they were often serene and calm, exemplified by the footage from the house of death in Singapore, where the old go to die. Africa Addio, conversely, contained some of the most brutal slaughter ever caught on film. The film was framed as a humanitarian objection against decolonization, indicating that the Africans were not ready to govern themselves. This was followed by sequences where Africans destroyed the natural world around them, slaughtered animals without purpose and attacked, killed and mutilated each other. All black Africans were portrayed as violent, animalistic cannibals.
            Mondo Cane and Africa Addio not only set up the style and premise of this cycle, but they also set up the conventions that later cycles question and modify. The main aspect of this first cycle was the gaze, where the ethnographers hold the gaze over the people that they portray as animals. What furthers this is that the images are not left to speak for themselves. Instead, the viewer is told what he or she is or should be seeing, with many scenes set up or inaccurately described. In Mondo Cane 2, for example, a monk committed suicide in much the same way as Thich Quang Duc in 1963. This shot was clearly a recreation of the original sequence, but since the viewer is told that it is authentic, the filmmakers leave the burden of proof on the viewer. That brings up the question of “how much is real?” The films of this first cycle, including such titles as Slave Trade in the World Today and Savage Man, Savage Beast, often included never-before-seen sequences of supposedly genuine events, which were usually explained as being captured by hidden cameras (a trope of Mondo), which could not be proven or disproven due to a lack of information. There is debate to this day about whether a sequence in Savage Man, Savage Beast, where a tourist gets mauled and partially eaten by a lion, is authentic. Further complicating matters, some genuine (or seemingly genuine) sequences become questionable, because the filmmakers’ responsibility comes under question. In Africa Addio, a gruesome sequence where tribesmen slaughter a hippopotamus was deemed inaccurate by anthropologists who studied the tribes of the area12. Near the end of the film, where the crew “manage” to capture a sudden execution, one must ask if this is in fact journalism and if these events were not set up beforehand in order to capture footage13.
            The other aspect that was prevalent in this first cycle was the concept of normalcy. As Goodall explains, these films worked with perverse politics, which he describes using a tagline from Il Pelo nel Mondo, “visions of primitive rites and civilized wrongs”14. The very strict definition of normal shown in these films is heteronormative, white, phallocentric and, above all, Christian. A sequence in Mondo Cane showed a group of black Africans taking communion, while the soundtrack described how only through Christianity could these “savages” hope to become good people. This is the basic premise of most of the films in the first cycle of Mondo filmmaking. With religion and civilization becoming synonyms, the films revelled in the white man’s place in his world, over other races and species, strangely similar to the Hollywood western.
            On July 15, 1974, Florida newscaster Christine Chubbuck went on the air like any other day. During the coverage of a shooting, the tape player jammed. When Chubbuck was informed of this, she shrugged and instead read a statement: “In keeping with Channel 40's policy of bringing you the latest in blood and guts, and in living colour, you are going to see another first—attempted suicide”. She then proceeded to pull a gun out of her purse and shoot herself in the back of the head, live on air. Death had found its way into the American home. Footage of that incident no longer exists. However, due to advances in technology, the next such incident would live on. 

Second Cycle: Faces of Human Death and the Social Mondo
            By the late 1970s, Mondo films had become repetitive and the audiences were tiring of them. The release of John Alan Schwartz’s Faces of Death in 1978 was about to change everything. There are a few factors at play in the beginning of the second cycle. Firstly, Stan Brakhage’s 1971 film The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes caused a new style of filmmaking focused on the fragility of the human body. It also led to autopsy footage becoming a mainstay of Mondo cinema. Second, the films shifted away from animal slaughter to human butchery and carnage15. Finally, the availability of cheap video technology resulted in both the creation of more Mondo films and the creation of more original footage16. As the first cycle began with the on-camera death of John F. Kennedy, the catalyst of the second cycle was a societal change. The 1980s was a time of social conservatism in the United States and the United Kingdom, with even Canada electing a conservative Prime Minister in 1984. In Reagan’s America and Thatcher’s Britain, youths rebelled in any way that they could. This conservatism is responsible for punk rock, video nasties and the second cycle of Mondo, which lasted until well into the 1990s. It was also during this period where moral panics occurred frequently with accusers falsely claiming the discovery of satanic rituals and snuff films.
            Faces of Death works as a connection between the past and the present. Like its predecessors, the film begins in Africa and includes a philosophical narrator, Dr. Francis Gross, a surgeon who wishes to understand death after a recurring dream of a funeral. However, Africa is nothing but a beginning. Soon, the film jumps into footage of murders, suicides, accidents and a variety of other ways to die. While the majority of this film consists of inauthentic footage, it is the way that everything is put together that is a matter of interest. The footage is a mixture of authentic and fabricated footage, the authentic taken from archives, legitimate documentaries or shot by the filmmakers, while the fabricated footage is made to look like it is from the news and from police dashboard cameras. One sequence in particular, one showing the suicide of a young woman is itself a mix of true and false. The footage of the woman jumping is real, while the aftermath was created and shot by Schwartz, along with a backstory and identity for the unknown woman. Furthering the idea of Faces of Death as a bridge, Mikita Brottman believes that this film works as an homage to the “classics of accidentally captured amateur or home video footage”17. Since many of the sequences were similar to other, well-known footages, this film works like a library housing copies of canonical works!
            Faces of Death led to two Mondo traditions. The less interesting of the two traditions followed a philosophy of showing any footage of authentic death that could be found, be it video, crime scene photos or any available images. These films often accompanied still images of carnage with deadpan, comedic narratives or harsh heavy metal music. This tradition led to the well-known “franchises” of Mondo, including the rest of the Faces of Death series, as well as the Traces of Death and Death Scenes series. These films were often sloppily gathered together, with no underlying theme, other than death. They also often reused the same footage over and over again. On January 22, 1987, politician R. Budd Dwyer was about to be convicted and imprisoned for bribery, a crime that he adamantly denied. After calling a live, televised press conference, Dwyer resigned, still asserting his innocent, and pulled out a gun, which he placed in his mouth and fired, killing himself instantly. This footage was from a time of inexpensive, easy-to-use video technology. Dwyer would become Mondo’s first “star”, his suicide appearing in practically every Mondo release. Dwyer became so prolific that he even became the subject of a feature-length documentary.
            The other tradition was one which could be described as Social Mondo. In arguably the most successful attempt at legitimacy for the genre, these films were characterized by sequences of authentic death and related subjects, a narrator with a misanthropic tone and facts and figured utilized in an attempt to create social change. Furthermore, this new cycle accused the western world of violence and debauchery that had been relegated to Africa and Asia in the first cycle and the attitude towards religion had changed, from being seen as a source of salvation towards being equalized with cult activity and violent behaviour.
 The two archetypal examples of this genre are 1981’s The Killing of America and 1995’s Executions. These are two films that take a contemporary social problem, gun violence and capital punishment, respectively, and attempt to use the bluntness and graphic imagery of Mondo to attempt to inform the viewer. Unfortunately, this particular tradition of Mondo never truly caught on as the average Mondo consumer, at this point, was usually looking for shock value, while academics refused to give these films a fair evaluation. The result was that these films were ignored, with Executions even abandoning its ethos and releasing a sequel that resembled films from the first tradition.
            The Killing of America was unlike any Mondo film that had come before it for several reasons. This film was not separated by methods of death, nor was it focused on showing gory footage. Instead, it was focused on showing what it considered to be the truth of the world around it, exhibiting archival news and police footage along with events captured on American streets. The footage was also reinforced by American crime statistics, which paint a very grim picture. This footage was, unusually, interspersed with footage and photographs from other aspects of American culture which do not have active footage, including interviews with serial killers, aftermaths of political assassinations and images of young thrill killers. This film, an obvious predecessor of the successful Michael Moore film, Bowling for Columbine, was an actual attempt at understanding violence by attempting to understand and sympathize with individuals on both sides of the issues, the killers and the police. The two groups were both accused and recognized as being victims of the violence in which they were themselves involved. This film almost comes off as a normal documentary, but it does contain the Mondo elements of exploitation and sensationalism. The grim narrator, conveying a misanthropic message, delivered a view of an almost post-apocalyptic America, one where “elections were being decided by killers”. The most problematic element of this film, though, is identified by Brottman. Killing of America attempts to not fall into the trappings of a gore film. Unlike almost every other Mondo film, this film does not even save its “best” for last, ending on the most recent tone instead. However, it still revels in its footage of death, repeating and slowing down its footage over and over again. As Brottman puts it, this is a film that is not at ease with itself18. This is a film that lacks an identity as it is too “unusual” to really be placed in a proper genre.
            A social Mondo film which is more at ease with itself is Executions, a film which immediately justifies its content by questioning the concept of the immorality of showing such footage when the act itself is so prevalent in the world. This film furthers the idea that there is no such thing as a humane execution. Furthermore, the film equates all executions from American prisoners to Holocaust victims creating its base rhetoric. Just like The Killing of America, this film attempts to unnerve the viewer with facts and statistics mixed with more gruesome footage of a variety of execution methods captured around the world, forcing the viewer to look into the eyes of the condemned with the goal of changing his or her mind about capital punishment. Of course, this film also saves the “best” footage for last. What differentiates the practice here from elsewhere is that the footage, a man shot in the face and struggling to breath, is accompanied by text which informs the viewer, among other things, that this man took sixty seconds to die, while other execution methods take even longer, effectively disproving the concept of a humane death. Executions is the first Mondo film which worked as a didactic piece because of its shocking violence, rather than in spite of it.

Third “Cycle”: Decline of Mondo and Birth of the Internet
            In 2005, the creators of a series of videos known as “Bumfights” released a film called Terrorists, Killers and Middle-East Wackos. Utilizing the availability of such footage on the internet, they created an hour of footage, consisting mostly of video which had previously appeared on other Mondo films. This film was artistically void and did not make any attempt at making a statement. It was simply a series of unrelated videos accompanied by music. It became well-known, having no competition in a devoid Mondo market, but, despite that, it did not do well financially. In the age of the internet, the Mondo film is no longer a viable genre.
            As with the previous cycle, this pseudo-cycle resulted in two different paths, neither true to the nature of the genre. The first path that resulted from this was the faux-snuff film. In a time where it has become so easy to create realistic deaths, some saw fit to create snuff films without having to commit murders. This period saw a lot of film releases, including the August Underground and Snuff Perversion series, claiming to be real footage from actual snuff films. The other path led to the internet, where websites popped up, dedicated solely to images of death. Some of these websites, such as “the Young News Channel” and “Ogrish” attempted to advertise themselves as attempts to show the truth to the world, an argument that Sue Tait refers to as the “looking-as-civic-duty argument”19. Basically, these websites disposed of any artistic notion, instead choosing to host stand-alone footage with minimal commentary, allowing the footage to speak for itself and then allowing the viewers to discuss it. It makes sense that this would happen, since this footage is being made and discovered much more quickly than it could be incorporated into Mondo films. After all, footage has become much easier to create. On a base level, most cell phones are equipped with cameras and there are security cameras everywhere. Whenever a disaster or death occurs, it seems like the security footage and eyewitness videos show up online almost immediately. On top of that, the internet has made it easier to gather and share footage that would be otherwise inaccessible to the mass population. In the last five years, at least two genuine thrill-killing murders have been posted online, each becoming famous under an offensive moniker, namely “3guys1hammer” and “1lunatic1icepick”. These videos, along with many others created by Islamist terrorists, soldiers in war zones and Mexican drug cartels, also spread much more easily, as their potential viewers are not hindered by censorship and they cannot be effectively removed, as they will be quickly re-uploaded20.

Death of Mondo
            Ultimately, it could be said that Mondo reached its logical conclusion with the advent of the internet. As a genre, Mondo began as a cinema of attractions and ended as a cinema of attractions, with the ending being more violent, more abundant and more “real”. However, with a dead genre, it would be important to take a look at its legacy. Where has the Mondo genre gone since then? For one thing, Mondo has become much less shocking! What used to pass for Mondo, before the more gruesome images were relegated to the internet, started appearing in reality television in the 1990s21. Furthermore, currently, all of the films discussed in this essay, films which were considered unwatchable and disgusting in their times, are available for free viewing on YouTube. Nonetheless, despite losing its shock value, or perhaps even because of it, Mondo continues to be marginalized as a genre and shut out of academic discussion. In this day and age, where footage of real death has become easier than ever to access, this genre could not be timelier.
            However, it is possible to look at all of this another way. The new mutation of Mondo cinema simply continues to reflect the world around it. After all, this is a time where visible violence and death are so prevalent, that a televised suicide on Fox News does not create headlines. Violence and death, from wars to random acts of violence, are so visible that their “viewers” (simple voyeurs separated from cinematic viewers) are no longer repulsed by them, even though they continue to claim the opposite. This is reflected in the absolute abundance and accessibility of death footage and the self-righteousness that voyeurs continue to use as a defense mechanism. This tends to push the argument into a metaphysical territory, as the death of Mondo continues to prove its relevance from beyond the grave!


Notes
1.      David Kerekes and David Slater, Killing for Culture. (London: Creation Books, 1995), 72.
2.      Mark Goodall, Sweet & Savage: The World through the Shockumentary Film Lens. (London: Headpress, 2006), 11-14.
3.      This was also used very often in faux snuff films, such as the Guinea Pig series, where filmmakers would claim that their film was based on an authentic snuff film that they had viewed.
4.      Kerekes and Slater, Killing for Culture, 223.
5.      Amos Vogel, Film as a Subversive Art. 2005 reprint ed. (London: C.T. Editions, 2005), 263.
6.      Ibid.
7.      Goodall, Sweet & Savage, 109.
8.      Mark Goodall. “Shockumentary Evidence: The Perverse Politics of the Mondo Film,” in Remapping World Cinema: Identity, Culture and Politics in Film, eds. Stephanie Dennison and Song Hwee Lim. (London: Wallflower Press, 2006), 121.
9.      Godfathers of Mondo, DVD, directed by David Gregory (Blue Underground, 2003).
10.  Tom Gunning, “The Cinema of Attractions: Early Cinema, Its Spectator, and the Avant-Garde,” in Early Cinema: Space, Frame, Narrative, ed. Thomas Elsaesser. (London: BFI, 1990), 57.
11.  Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino, “Towards a Third Cinema,” in Movies and Methods 1 (1976): 53.
12.  Kerekes, Killing for Culture, 72.
13.  The directors of Africa Addio were brought to trial for one act of killing that appeared in their film, but were acquitted of all wrongdoings.
14.  Goodall, “Shockumentary Evidence,” 120.
15.  Kerekes, Killing for Culture, 113.
16.  Ibid., 77.
17.  Mikita Brottman “Mondo Horror: Carnivalizing the Taboo,” in The Horror Film, ed. Stephen Prince. (New Jersey: Rutgers, 2004), 185.
18.  Ibid., 172.
19.  Sue Tait. “Pornographies of Violence? Internet Spectatorship on Body Horror,” in Critical Studies in Media Communication 25, no. 1 (2008): 93.
20.  Sue Tait. “Visualizing Technologies and the Ethics and Aesthetics of Screening Death,” in Science as Culture 18, no. 3 (2009): 346.
21.  Kerekes, Killing for Culture, 111.



Bibliography
Brottman, Mikita. “Mondo Horror: Carnivalizing the Taboo.” In The Horror Film, edited by Stephen Prince, 167-188. New Jersey: Rutgers, 2004.
Godfathers of Mondo. DVD. Directed by David Gregory. Blue Underground, 2003.
Goodall, Mark. “Shockumentary Evidence: The Perverse Politics of the Mondo Film.” In Remapping World Cinema: Identity, Culture and Politics in Film, edited by Stephanie Dennison and Song Hwee Lim, 118-126. London: Wallflower Press, 2006.
Goodall, Mark. Sweet & Savage: The World through the Shockumentary Film Lens. London: Headpress, 2006.
Gunning, Tom. “The Cinema of Attractions: Early Cinema, Its Spectator, and the Avant-Garde.” Early Cinema: Space, Frame, Narrative, ed. Thomas Elsaesser. London: BFI, 1990: 56-62.
Kerekes, David and David Slater. Killing for Culture. London: Creation Books, 1995.
Solanas, Fernando and Octavio Getino. “Towards a Third Cinema.” Movies and Methods 1 (1976): 44-64.
Tait, Sue. “Pornographies of Violence? Internet Spectatorship on Body Horror.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 25, no. 1 (2008): 91-111.
Tait, Sue. “Visualizing Technologies and the Ethics and Aesthetics of Screening Death.” Science as Culture 18, no. 3 (2009): 333-353.
Vogel, Amos. Film as a Subversive Art. 2005 reprint ed. London: C.T. Editions, 2005.




Filmography
Africa Addio. Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi, 1966.
August Underground. Fred Vogel, 2001.
Le sang des bêtes (aka Blood of the Beasts). Georges Franju, 1949.
Bowling for Columbine. Michael Moore, 2002.
Death Mills. Billy Wilder, 1945.
Death Scenes. Nick Bougas and F.B. Vincenzo, 1989.
Dying at Grace. Allan King, 2003.
Electrocuting an Elephant. 1903.
Execution of Czolgosz with Panorama of Auburn Prison. Edwin S. Porter, 1901.
Executions. David Herman, Arun Kumar and David Monaghan, 1995.
Faces of Death. John Alan Schwartz, 1978.
Il Pelo nel Mondo. Antonio Margheriti and Marco Vicario, 1964.
Mondo Cane. Paolo Cavara, Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi, 1962.
Mondo Cane 2. Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi, 1963.
Savage Man, Savage Beast. Antonio Climati and Mario Morra, 1975.
Slave Trade in the World Today. Maleno Malenotti,  Roberto Malenotti and Folco Quilici, 1964.
Snuff Perversions: Bizarre Cases of Death. D. J. Kary and Marcus Koch, 1999.
Terrorists, Killers and Middle-East Wackos. 2005.
The Act of Seeing with One’s Own Eyes. Stan Brakhage, 1971.
The Killing of America. Sheldon Renan, 1981.
Traces of Death. Damon Fox, 1993.
 

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Make Way for the Homo Superior: The Perfect Human and the Five Obstructions


Introduction
            In 1967, Jørgen Leth, a young Danish filmmaker, directed a short film called The Perfect Human. Leth’s film was a mock anthropological study of the perfect Danish man and woman living their normal lives within an enclosed environment. Topics of discussion include how they eat, how they dress, how they jump and how they fall. Since its release, Leth’s film has come to be recognized as one of the greatest experimental films ever created. In 2003, Lars von Trier, the current poster child for Danish cinema, decided that The Perfect Human must be remade. In the Leth/von Trier co-directed film, The Five Obstructions, Lars von Trier “forces” one of the inspirational forces behind his own films, to remake one of von Trier’s favourite films five different times. Each time, von Trier adds several obstructions, making Leth’s job more difficult and seemingly trying to make him fail. The Five Obstructions is, technically speaking, a documentary which tells the tale (and shows the final products) of the creation of these five remakes. However, the film also works as a biographical documentary, taking the viewer deeper into the lives of these two individuals and their rivalry-laden friendship.
            The Five Obstructions poses a lot of questions about the nature of remakes, the nature of filmmaking and even the nature of life and humanity. In this film, henceforth loosely known as “the remake”, some of the questions that Leth and von Trier ask include what can the remake tell about the “remaker”? If a film is remade by its original creator, is it the same? Is it more authentic or is it corrupted? Do age, experience and life changes distort the original idea, for better or for worse? The questions are taken even further when it becomes obvious that von Trier’s role in the film process is not a passive one. Then, the question becomes, who is the filmmaker anyway? Lars von Trier plays the role of a sadistic producer attempting to restrict Leth, in order to get the film that he wants, while Leth attempts to inject his own views into a “studio” film. It is almost like the situation of the Hollywood auteurs of the 1940s and 1950s. Is the filmmaker in this case the artist or the financer? The Five Obstructions is a fascinating look at The Perfect Human, the mind behind it and the man who wants to play the role of Frankenstein and bring it back to life.
The Five Obstructions, the Perfect Human and the Aging of Jørgen Leth
            In his study of Alfred Hitchcock, Stuart Y. McDougal claims that Hitchcock remade scenes, shots or sometimes even whole stories throughout his illustrious career (McDougal, 53). Hitchcock only technically made one acknowledged remake. In comparing the original The Man who Knew Too Much from 1934 to its remake of the same title in 1956, Hitchcock claimed that “the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional” (Truffaut, 65). Putting these two together brings about another truism; a director who remakes his or her own work is essentially remaking his or her own self. In other words, when a filmmaker returns to the well and remakes an earlier work, he or she is recreating it with all of the added ideas and experiences that have been acquired over the last years. This would explain why Michael Haneke’s cast a big star in Funny Games, why George Sluizer removed the important cynicism from the Vanishing and why Howard Hawks decided to remake Ball of Fire as a musical. Since The Five Obstructions is so self-aware, it ends up answering this same question, this question of why, for Jørgen Leth. It should, however, be noted that this film could very well be lying to its audience, as certain sequences, which will be mentioned in time, seem a little too uncharacteristic or out of place.
            Before one can study the effects of a remake, one must dissect the original. Jørgen Leth’s The Perfect Human seems to dispel the myth that the human being, even the perfect human being, is anything special. The films shows that these “perfect humans” are just as fragile as anything else, as they are visually vivisected, their body parts displayed and their faults exposed, while an unseen narrator asks a series of questions about what makes a perfect human. The perfect human is vulnerable and self-obsessed. The perfect human wants attention, but fails to notice when others are watching him or her. The perfect human is rich enough to spend his or her day in a tuxedo or an expensive dress and eat a gourmet meal nightly, but the money has not brought him or her happiness. The perfect human is insecure, depressed and bored! In short, it becomes clear that Leth, the thirty year old artist making short films, did not have a very positive view of humans or perhaps even the world that they inhabited, in general. Then, the question becomes whether, in the thirty six years after completing the Perfect Human, Leth has changed his mind?
            The Five Obstructions’ mission statement seems to be clear to Lars von Trier, who simply states that the original film is “a little gem we will now ruin”. By the time the first film is finished, it becomes clear that Leth has definitely changed. The first obstructions were that the film had to be filmed in Cuba, with no set, shots no longer than twelve frames (which was described as an attempt at being destructive) and, in order to remove all subtlety, the film had to answer all the questions that were asked in the original film. This first obstruction does not push Leth towards many boundaries, but a new visual style becomes clear. For example, this film is much more glamorous than its predecessor, with a larger focus on the erotic. A feeling of leftist revolution is still visible in the film, but it is overpowered by the techniques of the imperialists, which makes sense when one realizes that Leth has left Denmark since the filming of the Perfect Human, residing in Haiti while filming was occurring. It is only with the second obstruction that the repressed surfaces.
            While “snacking” on caviar and vodka, von Trier tells Leth that he wants to take away his perfection. His plan for this is to send him to the most miserable place in the world. This obstruction, which ends up filming in Bombay, India’s red light district, will be filmed in the middle of misery, but it will not show it. Furthermore, this completed film will only consist of the man, who will be played by Leth himself, and the meal. This obstruction may be one of the most unethical films ever put on celluloid and even this lack of ethics has several layers to it. As Susan Dwyer explains, one of the main issues within the ethics of documentary filmmaking is the level to which the subject of the documentary is exploited (2). This becomes an issue when the filmmaker attempts to be sympathetic to the subject. However, in this case, where von Trier is actually attempting to be unethical, that becomes a whole new issue. When von Trier sets these particular obstructions, the most important part is that the suffering should remain on the peripheries and be entirely invisible. In other words, this film could have very easily been filmed in the richest neighbourhood of Luxembourg, in order to avoid the ethical implications involved. However, Leth, in a brilliant twist which he credits to his director of photography, Dan Holmberg, decides to subvert this particular obstruction by placing a clear barrier between himself and the suffering masses, so that they will appear on the film. This is obviously Jørgen Leth’s attempt at fighting back his personal sense of wrongdoing. That still ignores the question of whether even accepting such a task is moral. The artist’s job is often to break taboos and do the unthinkable, but how far is too far? In a segment later in the film, von Trier asks Leth if he would be willing to film a dying child in a refugee camp, but Leth states that even he is not that perverse. Meanwhile, the Bombay segment is filmed in front of several children, either young prostitutes or children of prostitutes, and a woman with a child. Eating a gourmet meal in front of the suffering, even if it is to make a point, is an objectively disgusting activity. Especially when one adds in the fact that these people and their suffering is used merely to point out that Leth is affected by it (Dwyer, 9). Leth was the one who picked this particular area, because he felt that it was a “horror show”. Obviously, even if he claims that he was unaffected by it, that can be ignored as a lie. So, the questions again becomes, what’s the point? Why must one prolong suffering in a neo-colonized country just to prove a paltry point? Another interesting item of note is that, while this activity is being prepared, Leth is having another ethical crisis. According to Leth, the meal sequence from the original film was almost entirely improvised by Claus Nissen. So, the problem becomes whether he can use Nissen’s lines and mannerisms without committing an act of plagiarism. This will be discussed in more details later.
            After the Bombay obstruction, von Trier chastised Leth, since he had not made the film that was requested. Von Trier decides that Leth must go back to Bombay and shoot the film that von Trier asked for, which Leth refuses (again, why could he not refuse this obstruction the first time around?). Leth’s ethical side comes out here when he claims that he shot the film “cold-blooded and unscrupulous[ly]” and that, after filming this sequence, he felt that he had made a “Faust-like deal”. So, as a “punishment”, Leth has to make the third film any way he wants to, without any obstructions, unless he is willing to go back to Bombay. So, the third obstruction, filmed in Brussels, Belgium ends up being a film shot almost entirely in a split-screen format, with the latest technologies on display in perhaps the most commercial obstruction in the series. This film, the first to be shot in English with a crisp look missing from any of the others, looks like the film of an artist attempting to sell out to a community that refuses to buy. Another thing that shows in this particular obstruction is just how old Leth seems to feel now. If one were to look at the original man in the Perfect Human as a surrogate for Leth, which becomes more blatant when Leth plays him in the second obstruction, one can trace Leth’s evolution since the filming of the original film. Then, Leth was a young artist; he was cynical, but he was still full of life. In Cuba, he was still young, perhaps a decade along, and still able to dance and move. By Bombay, when Leth takes over his own role, the audience is offered a vision of a man past his prime; a man who cannot fall down and who gets lost trying to navigate the world. By the Brussels obstruction, Leth decides to cast Patrick Bauchau, an actor who worked with Erik Rohmer at the age of 29 and has since washed up, relegated to roles on television and cheaply-made B-films. The fact that Leth and Bauchau were born within two years of each other seems to send the message home: Leth is afraid of aging. He is afraid of becoming an imperfect human. While he used to loathe that perfect human in his thirties, he now envies him.
The fourth obstruction, a cartoon constructed in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, only furthers this old man hypothesis. Leth and von Trier both admit to hating cartoons, a symbol of childhood, and Leth more or less refuses to truly commit to the obstruction. In the end, he creates a rotoscoped film using footage from the previous obstructions and several Danish films. Again, like in Brussels, Leth embraces technological advancements, while refusing to return to his childhood.
The Fifth Obstruction
            The fifth and final obstruction brings up many questions that are not asked in the earlier obstructions. This final obstruction is to be directed by Lars von Trier, but still credited as directed by Jørgen Leth. This obstruction will be composed of film shot while shooting as Leth prepared and filmed the first four obstructions. All Leth has to do is a voice-over consisting of a fake letter, written by von Trier in the guise of a letter written by Leth to von Trier. The final product looks like an in memorial video shown at an awards show, with black and white footage of Leth taking part in various activities. However, the audio tells a different story. The audio tells von Trier that he failed in his mission. While he attempted to make Leth stumble and fall, Leth simply became more and more confident and in the end, it was von Trier who stumbled. This final obstruction brings out another question about the film. How much of this film is real, unscripted documentary and how much of it is scripted fiction created by a man who wishes to tell a conventional story.
Blurring between Fact and Fiction
            By the end of the fifth obstruction, the Five Obstructions starts to look like a narrative feature. While the Perfect Human and its remakes are made, the in-between segments tell the story of a superhero by the name of Jørgen Leth and a super villain by the name of Lars von Trier. In his director’s statement, von Trier mentions that with this film, he was “searching for something between fiction and fact” (Hjort, xvi). These segments between the films suggest that von Trier is perhaps that perfect human that Leth hated, who has come back to destroy him. This may be a bit farfetched, but fictional elements pop up throughout this film, including the ending, where the von Trier character (a character that he has been developing throughout his filmmaking and interviews) admits defeat to the greater Leth, going so far as to write a fake letter to himself.
            A more important blurring element in this film is related to Leitch’s idea of disavowal. Disavowal, in its original sense, involves the relationship between a remake, an original and a source material, where the remake attempts to show the errors that the original adaptation has made, in its adaptation of the source material, as a betrayal which the remake will avoid (Leitch, 51). In this case, in a more fictitious state, von Trier attempts to show that this same betrayal has occurred. However, while the source material is the Perfect Human, the original adaptation is Jørgen Leth, the decrepit, old man who is as far away from perfection as possible. Von Trier mentions that he knows Leth better than even Leth knows himself and that the Five Obstructions is an attempt to help him. So, the remake then takes the form of the true remake, in an attempt to remake Jørgen Leth and bring him back to perfection. In the end, von Trier’s letter mentions that Leth is the perfect human (the line “this is how the perfect human falls” is accompanied by an image of this old man falling) and that his perfection was never lost. So, the disavowal that was attempted resulted in a failure!
Authorship: Whose Film is it Anyway?
            As a final question, the subject of authorship is brought up several times throughout the Five Obstructions. This is to be expected with most remakes, as the creator of the original is held as somewhat responsible for the creation of the remake. However, in this case, these matters are complicated owing both to the fact that the creator of the Perfect Human is, obviously, at least half-responsible for its remake, but also because the two creators are in a constant power game for control.
            There is something of a subgenre of films which one may call the master-student co-productions. Essentially, these are films like Lightning over Water and Tigrero: A Film That was Never Made where a protégé (Wim Wenders and Jim Jarmusch, respectively) gets the opportunity to co-direct a film with one of his or her cinematic heroes (Nicholas Ray and Samuel Fuller, respectively). However, these films often take the form of reverence films, where the protégé spends most of the films basking in the glory of the individual who inspired him or her and whose brilliance he or she wishes to, one day, reach. The Five Obstructions is nothing like that. As has been mentioned so many times already, this film is, at least in a fictional sense, about disrespect; this film is about von Trier’s attempt to treat Leth like some kind of fraternity pledge. So, if there is no mutual respect, who becomes the author? Is it the creator of the original or is the original unimportant in this context? This question is probably closest to the question of producer versus director in the struggle for control. Von Trier acts as the producer who gathers the finances and gives Leth ridiculous demands, while Leth takes the role of director, closer than anything else to the early Hollywood auteur, who takes these demands and makes them fit his own agenda. So, who comes out dominant?
In a way, this is the manifestation of the author versus the critic that was brought up in Roland Barthes’ “the Death of the Author” (129), although Barthes’ author/critic relationship was not quite so vehement. Barthes’ view of this authorship question could be interpreted in two ways: faithfully or in a more subverted fashion. The obvious Barthes opinion would be that the Five Obstructions, just like the Perfect Human, has no author. The original film can be de-authorized by the mere fact that the film is a parody (or perhaps pastiche) of a previous film form, the anthropological study film, and is thus rendered as a simple part of an intertextual continuum (Barthes, 126). The mere use of language in both films would render them as non-authored film (Barthes, 126). Besides that, both films would also lack authors because they are up to the viewer to discover and comprehend (especially thought-provoking and experimental films like these two) (Barthes, 129). However, one could also claim that, using Barthes ideology, the remake and its obstructions make Lars von Trier the author. While Barthes would certainly disagree with that sentiment, one must look at von Trier’s role in the production of this film. Von Trier may give Leth the obstructions, but he is not an active participant in the creation of the five short films. His only participation involves viewing the films and judging them, giving his opinion on their meanings and shortcomings. As far as the death of the author gives birth to the reader (Barthes, 130), Leth’s death gave birth to von Trier. On a final Barthes-related note, one of Barthes’ main issues with giving authors credit is that the author becomes an absent figure during the consumption of the finished product (129). Since the author is simply leaving (objectively, speaking) undecipherable writings, then the author’s importance must become a thing of the past (Barthes, 128). This ideology, however, becomes problematic in this scenario where the author is right there. It is very difficult to remove the author when the author is sitting at the other end of the couch! If one humanizes the author, does that not simply turn the author into another reader? Barthes leaves more questions than answers, so it may be necessary to look at authorship through other means.
            The most convincing position is that Leth is the author of the remakes, just as he was the author of the original. This position may go against most established ideologies, but it becomes clear when one looks at the six films. All six films were made with almost-entirely unique cast and crew, with new innovations and evolutions coming from Leth and the final results always seemed to be the brainchild of Leth, in that they all seemed to have that Leth-ian look and feel to them, even if they did stray towards the edges sometimes. Another figure who was also in all of the obstructions, but absent in the original, is the director of photography, Dan Holmberg. Does he have any claim to the authorship of the remake? That is a question for another essay entirely. Using this theory, that the auteur can always manipulate those around him or her and make the film that he or she wants would place Jørgen Leth as the author of both the Perfect Human and the Five Obstructions.
            However, just because it is fun to answer questions with questions, one must look at the role of Claus Nissen in the whole making and remaking process. As mentioned earlier, Nissen played the perfect man in the Perfect Human. During the filming in Bombay, Leth wondered aloud whether it would be ethical for him to simply copy Nissen’s actions, when his actions were his own creation and not in Leth’s original script. So, one must wonder, is Nissen owed some credit as an author of this film? It is mentioned by Richard Dyer that stars can often take the form of the auteur, through their mannerisms and characteristics that later define them and any film that they make (483). So, since Nissen was in many of Leth’s early films and his screen persona and mannerisms defined the Perfect Man and said mannerisms were transcribed into the remade obstructions, Nissen is a star who may transcend towards author. Due to this and the fact that his mannerisms were what defined the film, particularly in the meal sequence, and gave it its surreal effect, perhaps Claus Nissen should be given some credit as an author of both films, alongside Jørgen Leth.
Conclusion
            The Perfect Human held a cynical view of humanity. More than thirty years later, that cynical view has not changed. Except now, the perfect human is extremely rich and he has the ability to use this money to play games, in which he will attempt to humiliate and destroy other perfect humans. The Five Obstructions really creates many questions that it, perhaps, was not planning to ask. Where are these directors headed? Since the creation of this film, Leth wrote an autobiography where he confessed to drug smuggling and sexual escapades with the underage child of one of his Haitian workers, followed by a documentary detailing his sexual conquests in the “underdeveloped” world. Meanwhile, von Trier went on to create one of the most self-consciously misogynistic films in recent memory and to botch a joke, ending with him calling himself a Nazi. Leth’s cynicism may have been a foreshadowing of things to come. After all, these individuals are now the perfect humans. They have grown up, gained experience, become rich and are now important cinematic figures. However, these are not the only perfect humans. Right now, the perfect humans are politicians, police officers, business owners and CEOs. The perfect humans are all around and they are running everything and, just like in the ending of the Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, they are coming for you!



Works Cited
Barthes, Roland. “The Death of the Author.” Authorship: From Plato to the Postmodern. Ed. Sean Burke. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1995. 125-130.
Dwyer, Susan. “Romancing the Dane: Ethics and Observation.” On the Five Obstructions. Ed. Mette Hjort. London: Wallflower, 2008. 1-14.
Dyer, Richard. “From Stars.” Film Theory and Criticism. 7th Ed. Ed. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. 480-485.
Hjort, Mette. Preface. On the Five Obstructions. London: Wallflower, 2008. xiii-xxviii.
Leitch, Thomas. “Twice-Told Tales: Disavowal and the Rhetoric of the Remake.” Dead Ringers: The Remake in Theory and Practice. Ed. Jennifer Forrest and Leonard R. Koos. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2002. 37-59.
McDougall, Stuart Y. “The Director who Knew Too Much: Hitchcock Remakes Himself.” Play it Again, Sam: Retakes on Remakes. Ed. Andrew Horton and Stuart Y. McDougal. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998. 52-69.
Truffaut, Francois. Hitchcock. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1967.