
Imagine waking up one day, getting dressed, eating your breakfast, and then hearing the phone ring. Fearfully, you pick up the receiver and before speaking, you think twice just in case you say something inappropriate and the conversation is being recorded. You speak quietly too, because someone might be listening through the door.
Now stop and search on a map of the world the possible places where people have to live in such conditions today, in 2011. One might be the country of two names: Myanmar (for the military dictatorship and for the UN since 1989) and Burma (for ex-colonizers).
It is no secret that Myanmar has been a living hell for several decades now. Every year, newspapers inform us about crimes against humanity which are taking place there. Recently, there was the peaceful 2007 Saffron Revolution - in which civilians and monks were killed, the 2008 typhoon - during which there were 250 000 deaths and international help was blocked by the Burmese government, and the 2010 rigged elections. Even if many NGOs are trying to improve the situation, Myanmar hasn’t faced any kind of official warning or embargo.
The documentary Into the Current by Jeanne Hallacy synthesises recent Burmese history by putting a spotlight on the active resistance which uses non-violent methods against the dictatorship, both from the inside and the outside. The peaceful struggle for the right to freedom of speech in Myanmar is the central subject here. Nevertheless, the fact that the film lists a mass of absurd and dreadful sentences imposed by the authorities gives an image of these activists which is tantamount to martyrdom: a characterisation which is more than a little uncomfortable. It seems that in order for us to understand that a dictatorship is something wrong and that we have to stop it, Hallacy needs to give us the example of people who consent to be hurt in the fight against the system. Yet a dictatorship is something wrong in itself, and absurd sentences are a direct consequence of it. Activists are subjected to punishment, not the opposite.
It’s interesting then to think about another documentary, This prison where I live by Rex Bloomstein. With an unashamedly British way of making non-fiction, the director focuses on the figure of Zarganar, a famous Burmese comic. The story is built as follows: Bloomstein narrates in the first person that he wishes to make a documentary about Zarganar. The latter is presented as a hero, because he fights the dictatorship by creating and distributing controversial comic films, sketches, written works and songs. Bloomstein thinks his subject is an extremely courageous person. But when he shares this feeling with the comic, the reaction is one of surprise: is he a courageous person because of his work? Zarganar disagrees. For him, the essential thing to report is the action of bringing democracy to Myanmar, no matter who succeeds in doing it. The action is more important than the subject.
In this case, one can’t help but wonder if it’s really necessary in a documentary about common action against a dictatorship to use the main character-hero-martyr figure as a way of explaining a socio-political situation. Could it be possible to make a film without this traditional narrative structure, in order to better fit what is happening in real life?
Let’s face it; in a world with 7 billion individuals, it’s not realistic for one person to represent the whole. A network-like narrative might better suit the depiction of a real crisis event, and without pathos. Just one current example is the excellent and innovative Standby Task Force Online Volunteer Community for Live Mapping. Collecting and combining information from citizen reports, the association has created an interactive visual crisis map for response and recovery. The aim is to connect calls for help to aid providers, and vice versa. Here, as Zarganar feels, the action of making links is more important than the subject who made them.
Even if this is too abstract to transform directly into a documentary narrative yet, it might be a first step to creating a new kind of storytelling in non-fiction films. But of course, if you are looking for a traditional melodramatic spectacle, please help yourself to feature films such as Luc Besson’s latest fiction, The Lady.
By Lydia Castellano