Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Goya en Bordeos – From One Artist to Another





Velasquez's Las Meninas-one of the most talked about paintings in the history of European Art is a mere reference towards the end of Carlos Saura's film Goya en Bordeos. The young artist examines the painting-as it inhabits a dark go down-with growing realisation with each passing moment. It is a while before he can understand the enormity and the complexity of that painting, where Velasquez has painted representation itself. Subject, painter, canvas and mirrors occupy the painting, bringing to mind Saura's self-confessed ideal form of representation-one which is yet incomplete. "What fascinates me is the process, the preparation for a performance where every step that goes into the making of the final performance, every effort is visible." he said in an interview in New Delhi recently.[1]
Saura plays with light and colour in every frame of his films, seemingly prioritising aesthetics over any other principle of filmmaking, yet Goya en Bordeos is arguably Saura's most direct engagement with art. Not unlike some of his other films, Saura invests a bit of himself in his protagonist. Only this time it is surprising because he manages to find the link between himself - a 20th century filmmaker and Goya - a 19th century painter, that goes beyond the Spanish connection. The link is that of camaraderie of art and artists. Through Goya en Bordeos and a number of other films, Saura deliberates on questions of the relationship between an artist and history, both personal and political, on the meaning of art as expression and art as profession.
There is a central image that binds this film - that of the spiral as Goya etches it on the window early in the film. The fact of a centre from which all else is born and by extension that to which everything is connected becomes a symbol not only for art and also for life itself. And it connects the two artistes-Goya and Saura, both of whom were occupied with ideas of representation (a telling example is Goya's two paintings - one clothed and one naked - in the same posture of one woman who was widely rumoured to be The Duchess of Alba), of social commentary through art, prevalence to aesthetics and of course the question of censorship.
The symbol haunts the entire film. At times literally, at times by the power of suggestion. The film opens on a violent note with the image of a dead animal, hung from the ceiling, and the tools of his demise occupying the foreground in the mis-en-scene. The entire surface is drenched in a red light that looks like blood - in fact we can't tell the red of the light from the red of the blood that is probably on the rope and pail that we see before we finally see the entire body of the animal being pulled up, and hung, not unlike the crucifixion. Biblical undertones return towards the end of the film in a long sequence, beginning once again with deep shades of red, this time with actual crosses, another crucifixion-like image and violence directed at people. Buried bodies, lost, dead children, and people in chains - this sequence is at once biblical and contemporaneous for Goya and Saura both of whom saw violence and destruction in their time. In an attention to detail, we see a number of dogs inhabiting the space of the exodus with the people, signifying the barbaric instinct though somewhat ironically because they are the least threatening presence in the scenario. What it does bring to mind is the presence of dogs in a number of portraits (Goya was known for portraiture) to suggest masculinity and loyalty. However, true to the cycle of life function of the symbol, soon after the carnage in this scene and the death of Goya, the film closes with the image of birth. Just as the dying Goya finishes drawing the symbol in the air for the last time and calls out to his progeny, there is a stunning manifestation of the spiral symbol in the staircase from which his daughter Rosarita comes running down. (see above)
Notions of death occur in different ways through the film, particularly in dreams and paintings. The balance is created perhaps with the closed, womb-like set-up of Goya's room, where a majority of the film is played out. (At the very end of the film, as Goya dies, the same room is transformed and a child is born there). A translucent red wall, made, it seems, of cloth, which at once walls in in a confining sort of way, while allowing a view of the outside. Except for one scene in the park, most of the film is set in closed spaces - perhaps because Saura thinks the outside distracts the audience and is superfluous. Yet, the one scene in the open leads to our realisation of a feeling of being closed-up all this while and for time to come. And since most scenes are played out in the interiors of his house, we see the paintings as Goya meant for them to be seen – in the dark, where the painter has control over the light and the consequent effect on the viewing of a painting.
It is curious that a film which occupies closed spaces opens itself out to a history that is constructed by a heady mix of dreams and reality. Saura plays with the narrative, flirting with post-modern ideas of layered time, fragmented reality and memory - but ultimately comes back to the original idea of the bio-pic. And therefore, the spiral returns to assert its focus, which is the artist and the art. He doesn't abandon his focus but it is clear through this film (and others) and his interview that he is a staunch advocate of a wild imagination. "Reality is not just what we see, but also what we dream." he said. And it is this fluid reality that he presents in Goya en Bordeos. The film uses passageways lit in contrasting colors, from a bare white in the beginning to black as a background for his paintings making a connection between an artist's unconscious and his work. Further emphasising the contentious nature of truth, Saura literalises a few probables of Goya’s life, in particular his relationships. For instance, most biographies of the painter throw open a vague suggestion of a relationship with The Duchess of Alba, but Saura makes her the centre of the spiral of Goya's life - his muse, his subject, his only memory - she was ‘Only Goya's' as her portrait says.
Fluidity pervades Saura's style as well - for in spite of being under the influence of Dali, Lorca and his mentor Bunuel, he has never based his work on any one of these celebrated styles. He found his own way to defy linearity even while working in the most straightforward of genres like the bio-pic. I can't think of a literary enough term to classify Saura's work for he uses light and colour like a painter would, creating something so unique that to call it anything more general than ‘Sauraesque' would be doing it great injustice. And it's just as well, because as he said, he doesn't believe in schools.

[1] Carlos Saura came to New Delhi, India and was in conversation with Aruna Vasudev on the 10th of March, 2008.

Charlie Wilson’s War: The Then and Now of the United States?


This year’s Oscar nominee, Charlie Wilson’s War (Philip Seymour Huffman for Best Supporting Actor) is a puzzle. It could be one of two things: an incredibly clever, subtle scathing comment on the history of American foreign policy, or a fairly uni-dimensional – not to mention jingoistic – addition to the ‘great America’ series that occupies a significant place in Hollywood.
The film is based on the life of Congressman Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks), who, in spite of being a rampant womaniser and a person of generally questionable morals, was greatly moved by the plight of the Afghan refugees in Pakistan during the Cold War when Soviet Russia was attacking Afghanistan.
The US believed in erring on what they considered the side of caution as far as Communist or for that matter any left-wing radical tendencies were concerned. Caution being represented by unsubstantiated accusations, murders, curbs on intellectual, artistic freedom and in more extreme cases, bans and the overall witch-hunt that started in the McCarthy era. One is tempted to admire their handiwork in creating mass-hysteria for generations to come against leftist tendencies or beliefs. Charlie Wilson is upheld as a force that may have changed the history of the world, saving it from drowning in the deep waters of Communism and domination by the godless Soviets.
The film too, at least in its surface structure, charts the journey of this small-time congressman who overcame great hurdles, both political and personal, to make drastic changes in not just US foreign policy, but also diplomatic affairs of other countries like Pakistan. Wilson moves from a courtesy call to President Zia ul Haq to the undying commitment he developed to bettering the plight of the Afghani people and fighting on their behalf. Why this film seems like it might be yet another piece of American propaganda is because like all propaganda films, it shows just one point of view – statistics and images of death and despair selected with a clear agenda — to clarify the good from the evil. Russian pilots are shown for a sum-total of thirty seconds, where they display their soullessness (since they were godless they had to be soulless as well, right?) very satisfactorily. Gradually, Wilson had the US parliament convinced that it is their moral duty to help Afghanistan fight the Soviets. And slowly, the Government of the United States of America increased the arms budget for the Mujahideen of Afghanistan from $ 5 million to a whopping billions dollars.
However, there could be a deep structure to this film, a kind of subtlety we haven’t witnessed in a long time, if ever. And this structure is imaginable only because of the decade we are in, where the US and Afghanistan have once again found mention on the same page, only this time, not so friendly. In this decade, the US graduated to a new pet-hate after Communism – Islam. Signifiers of a critique in the film are so small that in the success story of Charlie Wilson, they can elude us. The keywords are Afghanistan, Mujahideen and the Arms supply and budget from the US to the Mujahideen. The film went as far as to specify that the Mujahideen ran schools that trained students for armed battle against the enemy. What they don’t obviously mention is that Osama bin Laden, 9/11 and a number of world terrorist attacks are a result of the Mujahideen. For once there was a mainstream American film accepting responsibility for arming and funding the Mujahideen. Is there an acceptance of their role in the world terror situation? An acceptance of the partial amnesia that the US has undergone about this little heal-the-world project it undertook? In my opinion, Mujahideen is too topical, too well-known a word for the filmmakers to expect an overlooking. Another contributor to this sneaking hope is one image in the film. Tom Hanks with his back to us, standing with the Mujahideen, holding a big gun, raising it to the sky as if dedicating it to God. I was instantly reminded of so many pictures of terrorists in a variety of media. Once again, too loaded an image to have used lightly. I am reminded of Soldier Blue where dominant images of the Vietnam War (the soldier holding a dead girl) were used in the mis-en-scene of the film’s final sequence.
Like most political films about the US in recent times, this has an opinion – by means of implication – on the Iraq war. In the final scene, when Wilson tries to get funds for education and the rebuilding of Afghanistan, he meets disappointment. US officials weren’t interested in any actual development activity once they had achieved the defeat of Russians. The Mujahideen went on to ruin any semblance of order in the country, ultimately giving rise to the Taliban. The question is: Is history being repeated in Iraq? This sequence of the film doesn’t actively question the fact of interference in the affairs of another country (the Soviet Union was invited by the government of Afghanistan), maybe not even question the US’s hysterical stance on Communism, but it does bring forth their role in the destruction of a country – one they had set out to save.
In the wake of growing sympathy for the US forces stationed in Iraq and in the increasing strength of the demand to call them back, Hollywood is playing its very crucial part by exploring all the reasons why US should retreat from Iraq. Robert Redford’s Lions for Lambs is more explicit since it takes names and is more openly self-critical. I have a feeling, Charlie Wilson’s War has that inclination too, only it does it very subtly, perhaps too subtly. And maybe not at all. But that’s not what I like to believe.