Australian Cinema Presentation- Documentary Ethics

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Features and Concepts of Dennis O’Rourke’s The Good Woman Of Bangkok (1991) utilising the first reading, “The Ethics Of Documentary Intervention” By Linda Williams

\  The ethics of Intervention: The question of when a journalist or documentarian should cease to occupy the position of objective observer to intervene in the lives of his or her subjects.

\  The representation of reality - “The shift from a more conventional expository and observational mode of documentary to a “witness-centred voice of testimony” leads away from arguments about the world to arguments about the ethics of the filmmaker’s interactions with witnesses: what do they reveal about the filmmaker and what do they disclose about his/her subject? 

 6 types of gazes

1) The clinical or professional gaze - objective reportage, refraining from any kind of intervention in the situation
\  Example: the interviews with Aoi’s Aunt in the rural town, which O’Rourke does not portray romantically, just as an alternative the lifestyle of Bangkok

2) The accidental gaze – such as the Zapruder footage of the JFK assassination and the Rodney King video by George Holiday, where the event is captured unintentionally
\  Example: -
\  QUESTION: Do you think the accidental gaze has a place within documentary film? If so, can you think of any examples?

3) The helpless gaze - intervention is desirable but impossible, passivity to accept powerlessness
\  Example: O’Rourke’s participation in Aoi’s life, but powerlessness to stop her seeing other clients, and in the end, powerlessness to change her way of life at all

4) The endangered gaze - showing the documentarian’s/camera person’s own risk at being part of the situation, such as in The Battle Of Chile where the cameraman is shot dead whilst still filming
\  Example: O’Rourke’s submersion into the lifestyle of Bangkok, which is in itself dangerous, but also metaphorically exposing himself to the critique of participating in the prostitution industry

5) The humane gaze - when the film conveys a comprehensive subjective response to the moment or the process of death
\  Example: Metaphorical death of Aoi’s former lifestyle, where her previous life breaks down (divorce, single mother, death of her father, loss of rural simplistic life)


6) The interventional gaze - when a filmmaker abandons the distance between themselves and their subject, placing the filmmaker on the same plane of historical contingency as its subjects
\  Example: O’Rourke filming/interviewing the ‘drunken johns’ whilst still participating as one of them, showing their opinions, but still acting upon the same decisions, “O’Rourke is received by them not as an objective, clinical observer, but as a fellow reveller”

A Seventh Gaze? The Participatory Gaze
\  Example: O’Rourke functioning on the same level, in the same situation as the drunken men he is filming, thereby not intervening, “this participatory gaze makes no effort to prevent activities which abuse and objectify women – in fact, it encourages them”.

 
\  Through intervention an audience is allowed to question the authenticity of the documentary and the interactive forms it incorporates. The ethics of irresponsibility, in which intervention is participatory rather than oppositional, is possible, although deplorable. But we must keep in mind that the situation is only available to us, precisely because O’Rourke is participating in it. It is a quality of documentary’s interactive mode to either be activist and oppositional (responsible intervention) or to be complicit in situations and actions that should be opposed rather than recorded (irresponsible participation)

Documentary truth/ Documentary fiction? 

TRUTH: “Truth isn’t guaranteed”
\  The medium of documentary - even ‘fictional’ documentaries seek some highly relative, contingent, non- guaranteed form of truth, otherwise they would be simply fictional. O’Rourke himself has stated that “that there is no neutral objective view; it is implicated in truth and in fiction”. This can be where the power balance between the filmmaker and the subject comes into play. And as explored by Williams, in The Good Woman Of Bangkok this can be dealt with in a colonial discourse.

\  Prostitution itself, needs to be initially established as an interaction between two parties, and then can be explored in terms of O’Rourke representing the coloniser, and Aoi, the colonised. The ‘woman’ is the metaphor of the film, where the sexual language concerning postcolonial societies imitates the internal sexual division of labour of a dominating power.

\  “The issue is not simply whether or not to intervene but to intervene without so radically altering the original situation that one is no longer true to it”. Intervention can spoil the truth he is trying to capture, but by not intervening, he is becoming somewhat of a participant in her abuse. Documentary filmmakers have a responsibility to tell the truth of the situation they represent. The perfect example of this is how O’Rourke reveals at the end that he purchased a rice farm for Aoi, but in reality, he had purchased the rice farm prior to the commencement of filming, which makes you question both of their motives. This is not indicated in the film, therefore those who watch it without questioning, or really researching would believe it was so.

\  “O’Rourke’s purchase of the rice farm at the beginning of his relationship with Aoi, then acting out the fiction that it will be proffered at the end, is one solution to what we night call the vulture problem. In effect, it allows him to depict Aoi’s vulnerability to vultures without leaving her entirely their victim. And it allows him to acknowledge his own complicity with vultures without completely being one”.

\  THERE IS NO WHOLE TRUTH BECAUSE THERE IS NO OBJECTIVE PLACE TO STAND AND SEE IT 

 \  How did O’Rourke’s withholding information about the rice farm change the power balance of the film? In hindsight, does this change the way you viewed it?
 

The Good Woman Of Bangkok (1991) – Dennis O’Rourke

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This week I thought the debate in class was a really great thought provoker, being placed on the ‘against’ side for if a documentary should be educating and truthful, it made me think from a different perspective as to if I were to just answer the question. The couple of points that intrigued me the most was the notion of ‘truth’ and that in our defence, we ran with the postmodern theory that really, there is no one truth, everything has a bias, and argument, is pushing some sort of motive or purpose. As well as the other team’s assumption that audiences take what documentaries say as the complete and utter truth. There must always be questioning, one must always question what is given to them, what they see and hear because everything is never as it seems. In terms of society, it scares me a little to think that people have the perception that documentaries are the utter truth and even worse, that current affairs television shows fall under the same biblical category. Our key point for the debate was that the documentary is an argument, like Greg explored in the lecture, the filmmaker is inevitably presenting a view on a topic, that virtually, nothing can be objective. Objectivity and subjectivity are quite dense subjects and the themes can turn quite philosophical quite quickly. So here I would like to move into the issue of my own personal documentary viewing pattern, or lack thereof. Out of the list Greg placed up in the lecture of recent Australian documentaries, Antarctica (1996) IMAX, Africa’s Elephant Kingdom (1998) IMAX, Bra Boys (2007), Australia: Land Beyond Time (2003) IMAX, Sydney: A Story Of A City (1999) IMAX, Cane Toads (1988), Unfolding Florence, Forbidden Lies, Sacred Sex and God On My Side, I had only seen one, and no prizes guessing which one.

I thoroughly enjoyed Bra Boys precisely for the reason that it presents a differing perspective to that which the media pumps out. Having always been heavily criticised continuously throughout the media (and I’m not saying it wasn’t justified), just in dialect at the most primitive level (the use of the word ‘gang’ by the media and ‘brotherhood’ by boys themselves) but also even just the selection of stories to tell. One of the things that got me the most about the documentary was that I was never aware of how successful the Abberton brothers were in surfing on the international circuit. I had never heard one positive thing about them through the mainstream news, which is why I think it illustrates why documentary holds such great value for society. As long as you are aware that the filmmaker created it, and know it is therefore from their point of view, there should be no problem in interpreting the message, to prove the point. It is so significant, if only because we can hear their point of view, because that was the only way they were going to get people to listen, tell their story themselves.
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Beneath Clouds (2002) – Ivan Sen

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Having little to no expectations approaching Beneath Clouds, I was pleasantly astounded at the quality of the film itself, and at the extent to which I enjoyed it. There were many aspects of the film I enjoyed, including the innumerable amount of juxtapositions within the film (both in terms of cinematic techniques and in narrative structure), the surprising and somewhat uncanny references to Ireland, but most prominently the characterisation of and relationship between Lena and Vaughn. I think the dialogue between the two was the most effective technique for me personally as a viewer, and whilst I can see why some audiences may have found it drawn out and tedious, I thrived in it (surprisingly) and appreciated the role it played within the larger context of the film. This is probably an affectionate interpretation for me, because I have always been relatively fond of the unofficial dialect and slang used by Aboriginal Australians, that they have the kind of peculiar accent and the way they speak so fast, and I thought it was a clear manifestation of the attitudes of the characters as well.

The only part of Beneath Clouds that frustrated me was the ending, because I personally prefer at least some level of closure at the completion of a film, but here we are left with a massive gap in the narrative in terms of Lena’s continued journey through to Sydney to see her father. And I also would have rather that Vaughn got on the train with her, and this left me asking many question as the credits rolled. Why didn’t he get on the train? Why didn’t Lena ask him to? What happened to Vaughn’s mother? Surely he would be caught and be sent back to jail, but wouldn’t he have a better chance of escape by leaving his home town and heading into the city where no one knows him? How is Lena going to survive in the big city, alone? Even with her hard attitude, she still has a small-town outlook.

I feel that Beneath Clouds didn’t necessarily play up to stereotypes exactly, but somewhat consolidated the view some non-indigenous Australians would already hold of them, mostly within the scenes where the Aboriginal men are in the car talking about drug use, that they are instantaneously aligned with any other aboriginal because they are deeply entrenched with anti-white ideals and that they are one with the land (this is a given but is still represented through Vaughn, the teenage, urbanised, Indigenous criminal), this aspect here particularly in the scene where he steals the corn and starts the fire, whilst Lena merely watches. But the difference I perceived here was that it was somewhat justified, because we can see Vaughn as a character similar to that of the ‘Aussie Battler’ who has had a hard life and his actions within the film are all motivated, not just off his whim or at his own accord.

The other main aspect of the film that I appreciated was that every scenario had a two-fold reaction, meaning that consequences were enacted and different emotions were felt on the varying sides of the coin within the film (mostly representing the differences between black and white). For example that there were some ‘whitefellas’ who treated Vaughn with disdain and rejected him (the lady who stopped for Lena but not for Vaughn, the police brutality and the men in the bar), but others were relatively civil and even lent him a hand (the elderly man who gave them a lift). And then again this goes in the other direction in terms of the treatment of Lena as well, when we see the first Aboriginal group in the car to pick them up, the driver termed her as Vaughn’s “lady” and “woman” implying ownership, and this was juxtaposed with the two white males who offer Lena a lift, and when she refuses, they attempt to still her bag and abduct her, as well as her attempt to get them a ride by making conversation with the young white male in the bar. This vulnerability they experienced at the side of the road can also be tied into the way the landscape is represented in many Australian films, as a severe place of isolation. As hitch-hikers, they were virtually prey to whatever and whoever stopped for them or drove past, black, white, male, female, police officer, citizen or friend. They needed to be selective in who they trusted, and here it could be argued that they could only trust each other.  
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