A formerly cross-continental & cross-apartmental, now cross-town discussion on film featuring Owen and Matt

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Adaptation and Accuracy

THE ENIGMA OF KASPAR HAUSER

The issues we've discussed about historical accuracy, the filmmaker's role as adapter, and whether the combination of history and art creates propaganda remind me of two movies I saw recently. In The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (trailer), Werner Herzog tells the true story of a young man who appeared in 1828 in the town square of Nuremberg, Germany, without the ability to speak and barely able to walk. After learning to speak, Kaspar related how he had lived his entire life in a small, windowless cell, tied to the floor and brought food while he slept; until he was suddenly released in 1828, he had never seen another human being or anything outside the cell, and had never heard speech. Why he was imprisoned, by whom, why he was released, and his ultimate fate remain much debated mysteries to this day.

As a film, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is stunning. Kaspar is played by Bruno S., a Berlin street performer with no acting experience, who touchingly conveys Kaspar's mixed sense of fear and wonderment at the world he's never seen before. (No doubt this was partly thanks to the fact that Bruno's own early life in some respects paralleled Kaspar's, having been savagely abused by his prostitute mother at a very young age and grown up in a series of orphanages and mental institutions.) Herzog underscores the unsettling and, well, enigmatic nature of the events depicted with scenes of haunting, dreamlike imagery seemingly unrelated to the story. His eye for strange, beautiful visuals is on full display; the cinematography is characterized by stillness, natural beauty, and expert composition.

Herzog's always been interested in people outside of normal human society and experience, so it's easy to see why he wanted to tell Kaspar Hauser's story. Although in most regards the film stays close to historical events and even directly quotes Kaspar's own words several times, it is at least as much an expression of Herzog's creative desire to explore themes that interest him as it is a straightforward depiction of the actual events. A clue to his intent may be found in the film's title in German, Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle, "Each for himself and God against all"; Kaspar is depicted as radically cut off from everyone around him and often feeling threatened and confused by what he sees. Having never interacted with other people or seen any of the world prior to his release from captivity, he's developed his own ways of seeing and thinking about things (a good example of that here). This clearly interests Herzog very much, as he underscores it with a wholly invented scene of Kaspar interacting with a logician. In another unhistorical scene (seen in the trailer), Kaspar is put on display in a carnival freakshow. Though these scenes add to the film as a piece of art by illustrating the themes of social and mental isolation and the socialized, even unnatural, character of normal human understanding and experience, they make the film's role as a depiction of a real man's life somewhat murky by infusing that depiction with the artistic vision and interests of a filmmaker living over a hundred years later. I don't think that detracts from the film as a piece of art (and a great one at that), but it introduces a tension based on that contradiction, one that can be alleviated but never fully resolved.

The approach to factual accuracy taken in This Is England (trailer) contrasts with that taken in Che and The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser. Screenwriter and director Shane Meadows tells the story of Shaun (Thomas Turgoose), a twelve-year-old working-class kid in the economically struggling '80s English Midlands who recently lost his father in the Falklands War. He's befriended by a group of skinheads, but trouble arises with the appearance of Combo (Stephen Graham), representing the new nationalistic, white-supremacist element in skinhead subculture in conflict with the apolitical, racially inclusive old-school skinheads represented by Shaun's friends. The group is forced to pick sides, and Shaun falls in with Combo, who assumes the role of father figure missing in the boy's life. The film is both moving and intense, depicting the warmth of Shaun's new friendships and the anxiety, animosity, and eventual terror that Combo brings. All the performances are excellent, especially first-time actor Turgoose who perfectly conveys Shaun's adolescent uncertainty and longing beneath his tough-kid exterior. If nothing else, I learned a lot about skinheads, namely that they originally had nothing to do with racism and in fact were influenced early on by Caribbean music and culture (the Jamaican rude boys). This movie is powerful in every possible way.

What makes This Is England relevant to this topic is the fact that Meadows based it on his own childhood, with Shaun acting as his stand-in. However, he never makes the claim, even implicitly, that there is any one-to-one relation between the film and the events of his own life. In this way it avoids the dilemma in which Che and, to a lesser extent, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser find themselves. Meadows is freer than Soderbergh or Herzog to include only those elements of fact that assist the film as a piece of art, without the nagging questions of whether to compromise the art by adhering to fact or compromise fact by adhering to art. As I mentioned in the second paragraph of my previous post, perhaps changing names and events, thereby definitively divorcing art from fact, is the way to avoid these contraditions. As someone who likes history-based movies I don't really like that solution, but it may be the only one that resolves the dilemmas of historical accuracy, the propagandistic aspects of art, and artists' responsibility to things other than art itself.

10 comments:

  1. This may be a bit jarring for you to hear, but I don't believe that the artists are responsible to anything but the art itself. This is a tough reality. A filmmaker has absolutely no responsibility to strictly adhere to the source material, historical or not (unless the filmmaker is creating a documentary, of course). To claim that Meadows is freer than Soderbergh or Herzog is clearly a reflection of your learned expectations. What separates this medium from a documentary is precisely that "freedom" that gives you pause whilst evaluating the merits of these films. Without this freedom "wings could never take dream."

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  2. I will retroactively name that post: "HE OWES US NOTHING"

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  3. Ah, so we meet again, Anonymous, if that is your real name. You mention documentaries, but I actually think the problem is even worse for them than it is for movies like Che and Kaspar Hauser. While with those movies the claim to accuracy is usually just implicit, with documentaries it's explicit. But documentarians face exactly the same dilemmas as regular filmmakers, having to decide what to focus on and what to leave out in making their point. Remember, Leni Riefenstahl was a documentarian; if she hadn't claimed her movies were just records of the facts, I think people wouldn't have as much of a problem with them and could just look at them as art and nothing more. The same could probably be said for Michael Moore as well. So documentaries, whether you agree with the point their makin or not, end up being even more propagandistic than history-based fiction.

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  4. Oh I love that I was able to spark some conflict on the issue -- thank you "Anonymous" (seriously, is that a pseudonym?) for that. I take umbrage with a couple of things you said. As Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan said, "Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not his own facts." No film has to follow all of the facts but any film that uses facts as its basis not only is in my opinion irresponsible for putting false information in the world (something that I detest) but lessens the effectiveness of its message. Like finding out after watching A Beautiful Mind that John Nash and his wife separated for many years -- contrary to the theme of their love being more strong than his illness. In this age of the Web, to create a movie that plays loose with the facts allows people to find out the truth and lessens its effect on the viewer. What can one believe? Is it just full of crap? I was not as strongly moved by the movie as Owen was, but I found Soderbergh to be an untrustworthy narrator of Che and that detracted from my respect. It is especially jarring considering his talk of how much research he did -- obviously he thinks some realism is important just not the realism he doesn't want. I'm find with interpretation and didn't think this movie was over the top -- just what he said. And I think separate documentary from narrative films is to call a genre something completely different. Art can be just as informative and educational and to say it has none of the same needs for accuracy and history strips it of the effects it has outside of simply entertainment.

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  5. And good call on the retroactive renaming. I dig it.

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  6. I think my point has been missed, and it is my fault. I love films based on history. I love them even more when they are accurate. What I am saying is that a filmmaker in this genre can do whatever they want. That being said, what they decide to do can hugely influence how their work is received. If I want FDR to have a 5-way, bisexual affair as a sub plot in my New Deal era period piece, I should, by all means, do that. People who want to see that will take the movie for what it is and enjoy that scene (God help them). It would be up to more discerning moviegoers and the media, critics, and gentlemen like yourselves, to give me a Uwe Boll sized beating into submission. If everyone hates the movie and I am exiled to to an island somewhere, that is an acceptable outcome. But at least I was able to express myself through my art and, depending on my initial ignorance level, I will probably be quite happy with the result.

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  7. I realize my last comment wasn't really addressing your main point, I just kinda decided to go off on a little tangent and take issue with your use of documentaries as an example of movies that "strictly adhere to the source material." Despite how anti-inaccuracy my posts and comments have mostly been, I'm actually pretty torn between my desire for historically accurate movies and my desire for filmmakers just to follow their artistic visions and let their wings take dream. After all, who wants to see a movie that's 100% accurate but artistically dead? It's just that they wouldn't even have to think about accuracy issues if they did what Meadows did in "This Is England" and just made up a story that has bits and pieces of fact. And I agree that filmmakers are more likely to make accurate movies because of the reception a grossly inaccurate movie like your "Delano Does Dallas" would get than because of finger wagging from history nerds like me. But I'm still concerned that people who see a movie like "Che," which isn't grossly inaccurate as far as I know, will think they're getting all the facts when they're not.

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  8. Sir, if you read my first post I did not say that documentaries are films that "strictly adhere to the source material." I said that they have a RESPONSIBILITY to "strictly adhere to the source material." Kudos on giving my hypothetical movie a name. I like it.

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  9. And my point on that subject is that it's impossible for documentarians to do that for the same reasons that it's impossible for other filmmakers. I also think that creating a dichotomy of documentaries on the one hand and history-based fictional films on the other doesn't make much sense, since they're both making the claim, either explicitly or implicitly, that they're depicting the facts. Frankly, I don't see much difference between documentaries and fiction other than the fact that documentaries have non-actors and usually have narration. They're still trying to convey a vision or message, and will pick and choose what they show and how they show it based on that vision or message; any difference that exists is one only of degree, not of kind. That goes both for sensationalist stuff like Michael Moore's docs and for more meditative, less beat-you-over-the-head docs like Herzog's. So I really don't see why some films have this responsibility because they call themselves "documentaries," while others don't because they're "history-based fictional films," when they all face the exact same dilemmas.

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  10. I do understand your point. As one final volley i offer the following: genre selection is an important part in the filmmaking process. Choosing the lens that you want to view the material through and then executing it determines to a large extent how your film will be received. To combine the genres, which you argue is an acceptable outcome, is to say that there is not much difference between comedy and drama except that one is funny. The entire expectation changes based on the genre that you choose -- which gets back to my original point of different expectations for documentaries than for historical or biographical films...

    I know you may say that dramas and comedies are too dissimilar and do not fit the point you were making concerning documentaries and historical films. I simply disagree.

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