Review: The Politics and Aesthetics of The Middle Passage

Good, politically charged films are hard to come by in a world of Hollywood tripe and aesthetic pandering. I recently watched the English version (2003) of Guy Deslauriers' film Passage du Milieu as part of a teaching assignment, and was pleasantly shocked that the spirit is alive and well, if only in somewhat marginalized indie films. The Middle Passage is a brutal indictment of the slave trade and colonialism, while explicitly making the link between the past and present experiences of those of African descent. It combines creative cinematographic techniques, various symbols of West African religion, and a clear and concise political message that is powerful, if not especially visually pleasing.

The Middle Passage tells the story of the experiences of the millions of people (250 million according to Deslauriers!) who were enslaved by West African kingdoms (such as Dahomey), sold to Europeans, and forced over the Atlantic ocean to work in the Americas, through the narrative of a murdered slave who still "haunts" the passage. It is a slow, symbolic, movie that aims for effect via the recurrent imagery of waves lapping against the hull of the boat, rats in the slave hold, and the festering wounds of slaves. The director uses an off-focus lens to blur many scenes, and often frames shots of the French slavers in a very depersonalized way, which works to establish the intersection of history (docu-) and memory (drama). The narrative simultaneously, and somewhat contradictorily, emphasizes the diversity of the African captives while seeking to construct a common continental identity among them by referencing a multitude of religious icons and shared social institutions.

While Deslauriers makes a good effort at this, the artistic aspects of the movie comes across as kind of bland, overdone, and even boring towards the end. The emotional response that he is trying to foster somehow didn't materialize for me - possibly due to the cerebral nature of the script. But the real strength of the movie is not its cinematography, but in the political message it advocates. The contradictory message of diverse "Africans" is laid bare in the final minutes when the narrator states that the middle passage was "a kind of vaccination" for the horrors of slavery to come, and that it created a "new race" of people. Although the temporal reference in the movie is deliberately unclear, The Middle Passage seems to be alluding to the notion of the creation of "race" beginning in the 1500s. References throughout the film suggest that it was the brutality of the Europeans that created a shared understanding of the "African", which obviously did not exist in an era of relatively isolated villages and kingdoms. This is powerful because it links the political claims of those of descendants of slaves in the present wholly to the atrocities of, and interaction with, the Europeans. In other words, the racialized identities of both Europeans and Africans are dependent on the longstanding historical relationship between these two broad groups, and thus any solutions dealing with present problems necessarily require the recognition of this historical interrelationship.

And this is precisely what Deslauriers unequivocally emphasizes. The narrator reminds the audience that it is not the descendants of those that suffered the horrors of the Middle Passage and beyond, or those who suffered under the ineptitude and greed of corrupt African "princes" that should be blamed for their current plight. Rather, blame should be placed on those who gained from this cruel institution and system of relations - and their descended beneficiaries. The institution of slavery is still with us, embedded in our postcolonial societies. If it is not prevalent in overt practice (though existent), it can still be seen in the inequality, discrimination, cultural denigration and remnants of a genocidal past that still flaunts itself in all of our faces. Deslauriers calls for - quite simply - a meaningful dialogue that actually seeks to address the past, rather than those noncommittal people who hope that the kinks will iron themselves out as time transforms memories into forgetfulness. He is much more critical of those who know, and yet actively seek to silence those memories. Ignorance is complicity, and to be complicit is to actively pick up the muskets and whips that European slavers and African kings wielded against so many human beings.

The Middle Passage is a refreshing political manifesto seeking to bridge historical memory with our present political praxis, and I argue that it does so quite effectively. However, this is likely to be lost on the very people that Deslauriers is trying to reach most, due in large part to the cerebral nature of the script and abstract imagery and symbolism. Moreover, from a purely aesthetic point of view, although the film flirts with genius, in the end it delivers a product somewhere between cliche and monotony. Unfortunately, I fear, the effect of the urgent political message greatly diminishes as a result of these failures. The general lack of interest in the film, though it it is available in both English and French, likely confirms my fears.

Knocked Up

I just finished watching Knocked Up and thought I would make a few critical points about the movie. After chatting with a number of people, I was told the movie was extremely funny and decided I would check it out. Besides a few jokes here and there, I didn't find it particularly hilarious, and instead was struck by the arguments the film made about marriage, childbirth, and responsibility.

The first major point of note is how the movie effectively rules out abortion as a possible solution to unwanted pregnancy. The word is never mentioned in the movie directly, and only twice in a "rhymes with" reference. This option is quickly shut down, by a 'Canadian' of all people (and likely from Vancouver of all places, the same city as the main male character) . While it is true that the Canadian equivalent to Roe v. Wade did not come until 1988, there has not been the same kind of agitation for abortion criminalization in the mainstream public discourse as has recently occurred in the US, least of all in a relatively progressive city like Vancouver, which has active pro-choice organizations that routinely advertises on public transportation. The film attempts to fabricate a cross-national consensus that abortion is not an option by choosing the Canadian to decry that possibility, and then quickly assumes that the only option is to follow through with the birth, despite other potential alternatives (e.g. adoption).

The story quickly shifts to the explicitly unlikely scenario that the expecting parents, Ben and Alison, will try to form a viable relationship (that is, not one for the sole sake of the child) despite the lack of similar values, professional paths, lifestyles, and age. In the process, a complicated, but clearly identifiable statement is made about "taking responsibility for oneself". Ben, a young, unemployed, carefree, pothead, generally uninterested in conspicuous consumption and suburban family living (at least with the little of his personal aspirations that we get to know), is slowly directed to grow up and be "responsible". What this is codeword for is falling in line with the capitalist ethos - work hard, avoid illegal indulgences, engage in conspicuous consumption and the acquisition of wealth, and more generally, submit to the dominant norms of your time.
Consistently throughout the film, Ben's 'immaturity' creates difficulties for him in his pursuit of a relationship with the future mother of his child, which he must overcome in order to be a respectable member of society, a competent father, and an appropriate husband. But all the symbolic representations of this immaturity, described above, point to a certain construction of a worker-citizen that is conducive to the general project of capital accumulation.

Second, formal relationships are held up to the highest ideal, even when they must be achieved at all costs. There is a moment as the plot develops where Alison questions this ideal - she makes the point that relationships should not have to be forced, but must be 'natural'. Yet, as they break off their fledgling relationship, things begin to go sour for each of their individual lives (cue the sad music), and they aren't happy. The only way for them to be happy is if they form a family union (with marriage ultimately in mind) and give up their single lives. This of course reinforces the social reproduction funtions of the family that capitalism requires.

There is also a debate over relationship strategies between Alison and her sister. While the former argues to accept the irksome characteristics of her partner, the latter opts to criticize her partner until he conforms to her standards. It is quite clear which strategy wins out in the end. Ben becomes the responsible person that Alison wants him to be, while her sister's husband foregoes any form of social friendship (such as a scandalour fantasy baseball pool) and conforms to the dictates of his wife: he becomes the selfless 'family man'. Together, both couples reaffirm the concept of marriage and the nuclear family, leaving little room for potential alternative relationships (not necessarily gay marriage, which could conceivably fit into this mold, but single parenthood, extended families, etc.).

Knocked Up romanticizes the stressful realities of child rearing by those in precarious financial situations, or who, at a particular point in their lives, are ill-equipped and unenthusiastic about the prospect by creating a personal conflict between the two future parents during the pregnancy whose climax and resolution occur with the childbirth. The birth of the baby automatically produces the rebirth of their relationship, and the rest is happily ever after. Many points that the movie brings up are important ones, such as the difficulties in negotiating personal and social relationships, and the need to constantly reflect on one's life. But it ultimately works to regularize coupled relationships, encourage reproduction at any cost, and attain a specific form of responsibility - all of which directly and indirectly support the capitalist system. This is not to say that coupledom, babies and responsibility are bad things in and of themselves. But given the historical prejudice of Hollywood towards a certain class and ideology, one should always think critically of the messages movies are actually giving.