What Happens In The Machine...
“Audiences, I think, tend to be
fairly sophisticated. They don’t go to the theatre for history lessons of the
day’s news…” [Doug Wright]
I must admit that I often change
my mind every time I see a movie begin with the words “Based on real events”. A
few times, this phrase or some version of it has appeared at the end of a
motion picture, and I have immediately felt cheated. I belong to the group of
people who take solace in the untruthful nature of fiction. There is something
about couching the most unimaginable deeds possible by human-kind in the
hammock of make-believe, that makes fiction more attractive than any
documentary could ever be. Even though fiction is arguably based on the
continued study and observation of human beings operating in and out of their
natural habitats, its relationship with what is ‘real’ is clear. Works of
fiction allow me as an audience member to enjoy the story without thinking too
hard about where exactly it came from.
Here, I like to think of
something Stacey Cabaj has often said throughout the course of our Meisner
technique training; “It is true, but it is not real”. When presented with a
piece of fiction, I can comfortably dissolve my emotions and inhibitions in the
stew of its fabrications, because I know that they will be handed back to me in
their original form. With something along the lines of Mike Daisey’s The Agony And The Ecstasy of Steve Jobs
however, what I am handed back at the end of the show is something I do not
recognize. Documentary theatre has a quality that blurs those lines between the
‘real’ and the ‘true’. This quality dissolves my will to participate as an
audience member with my inclination to intervene as a human being. Suspense of
disbelief becomes injected with civil responsibility – and yet this is the very
thing I am avoiding by going to the theatre. Or to the cinema. Or to the world
in between the covers of a good book.
And yet, with its penchant for
instilling the need to act, documentary theatre has another face. The face of
triumphant humanity over insurmountable odds. Documentary pieces often cover
stories about people who faced unimaginable circumstances, and their response
is often saddled with a teaching element. There is always a lesson to be learned,
and an action to be taken. However, unlike agit-prop which gives you the axe
and shows you where to strike, documentary drama shows you the gaping wound and
walks away. How and when to act is left entirely to you. The feature film 127 hours tells the story of Aron
Ralston, an outdoorsman who survived an almost-fatal hiking accident by
amputating his right forearm. The film garnered positive critical reviews, and
James Franco’s performance was hailed by Jeffrey M Anderson as “…a powerhouse
performance in the one-man centerpiece role, humanizing the movie and providing
its emotional core.” Of the movie
itself, Damon Wise of Empire calls it a “A surprisingly fun, effervescent
against-the-odds drama that offers an upbeat moral without the usual punishing
survival-story clichés.”
Damon Wise’s Review can be instrumental in shaping the way we perceive the form and purpose of the
documentary genre. He highlights the specificity of the protagonist, the situation,
and the response to said situation. In short, he covers the importance of
specificity with regards to “…what it means to be human…” [Doug Wright] The
singularity of the human experience is what I think Peter Cheesman was referring
to. It is somewhat ironic that this very singularity provokes the necessity of
directorial intervention. I found what I thought was a short clip of Aron
Ralston’s actual video recording during his ordeal. When I opened the video
however, I was mildly surprised…
The news network responsible for
sharing this story arranged it a specific way, layered in some musical undertones
and timely fades to achieve maximum effect. EVEN THE NEWS WE WATCH IS EDITED TO
ELICIT A RESPONSE! “Something is chosen, so something is not, and in that
streamlining absolute truth is shaped rather than delivered whole, so “fiction”
enters the equation.” (Ain Gordon) Would this clip have been gut-wrenching if
it merely comprised of the raw footage? Maybe to his close family and friends,
but not to a viewing public accustomed to consuming news in a continuously
established and mutually understood way. From this angle, docu-dramatists are
simply transporting what is ‘real’ onto a different platform and making the
necessary adjustments to make the material abide by its structure. What happens
within this structure, and what effects the structure has on the raw
material can only be manipulated to a certain extent. We feed the machine, and
sometimes we cannot explain why the machine does what it does.
The responsibility to provide a singular
truth, lesson, moral or experience can never belong to one person, because they
are limited by their field of perception. If I may make the proposition; I am
of the mind that meaning can never be fixed. Even now, the meaning of something
solid (e.g. a cellphone) or something abstract (e.g. apologetics) is being extrapolated,
manipulated and conducted to fit the needs of their unpredictable creators.
“This is the essence of theatre. It
is a map of the democracy of consciousness. It is a map of humility. It is a
map that leads us to connection by way of our shared confoundedness.” (Lisa
Kron)
It's so interesting to me that you mention the sound underscoring the news footage because one of the things I remember most about 127 Hours is how the director Danny Boyle used sound- such as the "nails on a chalkboard" screeching of a violin to trigger a visceral cringe response from the audience as Aron began the grueling process of sawing off his own arm. I often wonder if those scenes would be as effective without the sound and similarly would the news footage have the same heart wrenching effect? I would venture to say it would, but perhaps I am being naive. I want to believe that audiences watching human suffering without "Hollywood" embellishments would still feel the empathy one hopes for in those circumstances. But perhaps it speaks to where we are as a society that filmmakers and newscasters feel the need to "add" something to a story in order to make sure the appropriate tone is being conveyed. What risk do they take if they just present the facts? Is it a "failure" if people feel nothing when they watch it? Or is it worth debating whether all stories must be understood the same way by all audience members? What risk do we take if we step back as storytellers and truly let the work speak for itself (especially when the material is "true")?
ReplyDeleteHmmmm...this makes me think many thoughts. Can the work speak for itself anymore? In a world where we are only palatable through filters, is it still possible that we can view the world as it is?
DeleteI have a sense that humanity has been weaned off it's inherent visceral-ness. Perhaps that scene without the music would have been too real for movie-goers to handle. Perhaps the audience doesn't want to experience the tragedy through the protagonist, but with the protagonist. As a separate, removed and thus safe entity from the (at least temporarily) distant circumstances of the human experience.
When we step away from the facts and allow them to be seen, we are risking our livelihood. If the role of theatre is to represent life, then leaving life to it's own devices removes the need for its representation. Putting facts on a stage, or through a camera lens, or depicting it with a paint brush allows us to put the stamp of our representation on it.
This post raises some interesting questions. I guess my response would be that it's okay to still "produce" something that is meant to be viewed by a wide number of people, as long as you aren't changing the words and actions done by the people in the piece. So, adding music to underscore a video, while manipulative to be sure, doesn't diminish what is actually happening in the video to begin with. I think there's been an idea that in order to be truly verbatim theater it can't have any production value, and I don't know that I agree with that. Any time you put something on a stage you have to take into account the necessary technical requirements of staging something. Lights, sound, costumes, set...all are necessary, and if handled well don't diminish the effect of the word-for-word nature of the script. If too much production happens, then the form morphs into more of a "based on" nature, like you talked about. The film 127 HOURS is in no way a piece of verbatim work, but rather Danny Boyle telling the story of Aron Rolston in his own way.
ReplyDelete