Submitted by Anne Marriott on 17 December 2008 - 9:54pm.
This December festival covers a wide range of topics exploring various aspects of what it is to be human: some cute, some amusing, some dark and confronting, and some distressing. I’ve picked out two which I see as portraying hope.
Amal’s story, in Hope so simply and eloquently told through her own images, is confronting when juxtaposed against the story we have all been told from the government’s point of view. What does this say about us as people? What does it mean we have become as a nation? Amal speaks of ‘recording’ the lives of those around her, about to drown as the boat begun to leak, and we see the event through her bird’s eye view, above the unfolding drama. This makes it personal, and makes us accountable. Daring to hope against these experiences is raw and powerful.
By contrast, The Shaman is much more light-hearted: a little bit The Mighty Boosh meets Dr Phil. Impressively shot in 48 hours, it follows a familiar story line: Gormless and socially clueless character obtains guide to negotiate life, learns to reject his own self-doubt and fear and listen to the ‘universe within’ and, now enlightened, lives happily ever after. The meaning of life, the universe and everything in a compact 6 minutes and 15 seconds: therein lies the comedy.
We know this guy is a loser from the first shot of him finding himself the recipient of an empty roll of toilet paper – and can laugh, knowing we’ve all been caught in that situation. His ‘fear phantom’ whispers negative thoughts as he blunders his way around the party, encountering the masked and fearful would-be actors. The stereo-typical characters are over-played in a similar way to a sit-com.
However, I find there is a confusing switch between tones, which renders the film corny and undermines the ‘message’ that is given. When Howard ‘opens the door’ to his inner guide, the tone becomes instructive and when watching the film, the quandary is then whether we are to laugh or to suddenly begin taking his message seriously. The problem is that the Shaman’s observations reduce the characters even further to the masks that they are portraying, and so make it less believable at the time when it needs to be more so. No one is ever just a mask. The Shaman’s point of view becomes imposed upon the characters. Consistency of tone would allow us to then laugh at the Shaman rather than make him the hero, as in The Mighty Boosh. As it is, it seems a little Disney-fied.
Having said that, The Shaman is an endearing character and the final tranquil scene by the ocean prompts me to make a mental note to revisit St Kilda beach. His parting words are particularly joyful and resume the playful tone: “You just live in a little rock in the galaxy – what are you afraid of?” On this hopeful note the film ends.
Hope, of course, has a long tradition in the history of Christianity. Here I would like to pose some questions when you are watching these short film that come out of my own faith tradition. As a favourite Christian writer of mine, Bob Goudzwaardz states, it is important not to impose our own view on an existing reality if we want to understand it, as this is risky for ourselves and others, because we then fail to uncover our own prior assumptions. Beginning instead not with our own ideas, but with reality itself, observed truly and verifiably, is key: “This attitude of radical openness to reality is also a matter of faith.”
So here are my questions: Do the producers of The Shaman really engage with the material they are presenting, or impose their own set of views and values on the material? Are they open to what the material is saying to them, in order to come to more understanding of it?
Two tales of hope
This December festival covers a wide range of topics exploring various aspects of what it is to be human: some cute, some amusing, some dark and confronting, and some distressing. I’ve picked out two which I see as portraying hope.
Amal’s story, in Hope so simply and eloquently told through her own images, is confronting when juxtaposed against the story we have all been told from the government’s point of view. What does this say about us as people? What does it mean we have become as a nation? Amal speaks of ‘recording’ the lives of those around her, about to drown as the boat begun to leak, and we see the event through her bird’s eye view, above the unfolding drama. This makes it personal, and makes us accountable. Daring to hope against these experiences is raw and powerful.
By contrast, The Shaman is much more light-hearted: a little bit The Mighty Boosh meets Dr Phil. Impressively shot in 48 hours, it follows a familiar story line: Gormless and socially clueless character obtains guide to negotiate life, learns to reject his own self-doubt and fear and listen to the ‘universe within’ and, now enlightened, lives happily ever after. The meaning of life, the universe and everything in a compact 6 minutes and 15 seconds: therein lies the comedy.
We know this guy is a loser from the first shot of him finding himself the recipient of an empty roll of toilet paper – and can laugh, knowing we’ve all been caught in that situation. His ‘fear phantom’ whispers negative thoughts as he blunders his way around the party, encountering the masked and fearful would-be actors. The stereo-typical characters are over-played in a similar way to a sit-com.
However, I find there is a confusing switch between tones, which renders the film corny and undermines the ‘message’ that is given. When Howard ‘opens the door’ to his inner guide, the tone becomes instructive and when watching the film, the quandary is then whether we are to laugh or to suddenly begin taking his message seriously. The problem is that the Shaman’s observations reduce the characters even further to the masks that they are portraying, and so make it less believable at the time when it needs to be more so. No one is ever just a mask. The Shaman’s point of view becomes imposed upon the characters. Consistency of tone would allow us to then laugh at the Shaman rather than make him the hero, as in The Mighty Boosh. As it is, it seems a little Disney-fied.
Having said that, The Shaman is an endearing character and the final tranquil scene by the ocean prompts me to make a mental note to revisit St Kilda beach. His parting words are particularly joyful and resume the playful tone:
“You just live in a little rock in the galaxy – what are you afraid of?” On this hopeful note the film ends.
Hope, of course, has a long tradition in the history of Christianity. Here I would like to pose some questions when you are watching these short film that come out of my own faith tradition. As a favourite Christian writer of mine, Bob Goudzwaardz states, it is important not to impose our own view on an existing reality if we want to understand it, as this is risky for ourselves and others, because we then fail to uncover our own prior assumptions. Beginning instead not with our own ideas, but with reality itself, observed truly and verifiably, is key: “This attitude of radical openness to reality is also a matter of faith.”
So here are my questions: Do the producers of The Shaman really engage with the material they are presenting, or impose their own set of views and values on the material? Are they open to what the material is saying to them, in order to come to more understanding of it?